Poetry

A Life Lesson from a Near Death Experience

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Why the rescue of the Russian sailors is a recipe for personal growth

Submerged beneath the icy depths
a Russian crew was caught.
Their sub was trapped in fishing nets
both weighted down and taut.

Just like the Kursk, their plight seemed doomed.
Those men had little air.
But this time Russians asked for help
admitting their despair.

And since they did, the crew was saved
as time nearly ran out.
The outcome gave the waiting world
good cause to cheer and shout.

And in this rescue there’s a truth
we’d all do well to see
of what to do when we need help
in some catastrophe.

Our pride might prompt us to pretend
that everything’s okay.
But then the fear we hide inside
won’t ever go away.

But if we own up to our plight
and let our need be known,
we’ll find the joy of being loved
through graces friends have shown.

We’d best resist the tendency
to handle life solo.
When we act like we’re self-contained,
we miss the chance to grow.

It’s a Bloody Shame

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

A lament for the victims of terror in Iraq

I’m weary of the carnage
that each day Iraqis face.
A dozen dead. Two score blown up
and even more displaced.

The Tigris and Euphrates
flow with blood like Pharaoh’s Nile.
And chances are it will get worse
when Saddam’s at last on trial.

The plagues of ancient Egypt
stole the lives of their firstborn.
And though their tears declined with time
those moms and dads still mourned.

And now Iraqi parents
are heard weeping through the night.
A plague called terror kills and maims
while mocking freedom’s light.

Dear God of Israel’s children,
of every tongue and race,
please bring about a settled calm
and dry each tear-stained face.

The Pain of Parting

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Unpacking the personal emotions of packing up and leaving town

The time has come to say so long,
but I don’t know quite how.
In ten short years I’ve put down roots.
I’d love to stay. But now,

a church out west has called my name.
They claim that I’m their man.
And though it hurts to pack and move,
it seems to be God’s plan.

I’ll miss our home and neighborhood,
our church and friends and school.
And though my mind has settled peace,
emotions often rule.

When memories come, my eyes tear up.
My gut knots in a ball.
To leave a place you’ve grown to love
is like a death. That’s all.

And yet I know such sorrow’s sweet.
The pain means lives have touched,
that love’s been offered and returned,
not seldomly, but much.

This hurt’s a sliver in my heart
I don’t want tweezered out.
The ouch will help not forget
a town I care about.

As strange as it might seem to some,
I’m grateful for the pain.
It means I felt embrace by you.
Perhaps you feel the same.

Such sadness is a part of love
for those who risk to care.
It is the proof that those who reached
found ways to really share.

So thanks for letting me draw near
to share my heart with you.
And if you would, please pray for me
as I begin brand new.

Tiger’s Victory and England’s Defeat

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Putting the significance of the British Open in perspective

Not even the British Open
could close the gaping wound
of a bleeding Empire
rocked by terror.

Although a hungry Tiger
taunted us with his under-par rounds,
the underground destruction caused
by beasts of another stripe
could not be appeased
by Saint Andrew or any other.

One remains a game
for which there is no rival.
The other finds grieving loved ones
identifying remains
while embracing a pain
for which there is no killer.

The Londonderry air is heavy.
The sky is dark.
Mac Arthur Park is still melting,
but not for the reason you might think.
No one left a cake out in the rain.
Nonetheless, there are birthday candles on a few
that will never be blown out.
These unlit wicks belong to mommies and daddies
who will never be coming home again.

A single bomb took out a double-decker bus.
Three others went off in carriages
beneath the streets of an unsuspecting city.
As with September 11th,
the 7th of July is a date that shall live in infamy.

Ironically, only three days after we Americans
were celebrating our political independence
from our cousins across the pond,
we were reaching out to them
with open arms and understanding hearts.
Pledging our allegiance
we were only too quick
to acknowledge our emotional dependence
and a common goal.

United we will stand
to knock Al-Qaeda off its feet.

There’s a Whole Lot of Shaking Going On

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Faith lessons in the face of impending natural disasters

The conflict over in Iraq
is not the only war.
The frontlines on the weather map
show skirmishes galore.

The right coast reels from hurricanes.
The left coast burns and quakes.
The Midwest is Tornado-ville
and  in the South it bakes.

We’re all on edge this time of year.
And though we think we’re strong,
it only takes the things we fear
to prove to us we’re wrong.

We like to think we’re in control
and do the things we please.
But it’s a wake up call of sorts
to hear Mom Nature sneeze.

From coast to coast we run the risk
of suffering real harm.
So why not learn to walk by faith
while leaning on God’s arm?