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The Java Joe Machine
My jiffy Java Joe machine
Allows me to make only one
Cup of coffee when I please,
Convenient when I’m on the run.
But in the seconds as it brews
I recall my coffee pot
Dripping cheerfully while news
I read. The Post, which I pre-bought
So it would on my porch appear,
Unfolded to me sports and thugs
And shared advice from Abby dear.
I then partook from my best mug.
I shake myself from my day dream
To grab my insulated flask
And stir in unsweet, cow-free cream.
I rush to start my daily tasks.
Should my friends stop by to drink
Coffee, we can choose our own
Plastic pod and in a blink
We drink together yet alone,
Sipping, staring at our screens,
Breaking from the cyber world
Now and then to share a meme.
No second cup is ever poured.
.
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Drop in a Bucket
“Behold the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and
are counted as the small dust of the balance.”
—Isaiah 40:15
Everywhere I look there is mess.
So many are experiencing distress—
Towns are wrecked by unexpected floods,
Homes and businesses are full of mud.
Loss of property and hope and life
Have left a wake of heartbreak and of strife.
This nation nearly seems beyond repair.
I’m tempted to depression and despair
By borders and the streets “woked up” with “pride.”
Have fear of God and holiness both died?
Elijah, too, looked round and felt a dearth
Of people that would honor God on earth.
But every week I press on to His House.
Together with the saints, the chosen spouse.
We will worship, hear the Word, and pray,
And partake of bread and wine. A ray
Of light will put us all in mind of those
Millions who are there around the throne,
Which we will join. Perhaps it won’t be long
When Jesus comes and fixes all these wrongs.
What seems impossible to man is not
The same to God. The nations are a drop
In the bucket to Him. He rules still;
And no matter what He always will.
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Gigi Ryan is a wife, mother, grandmother, and home educator. She lives in rural Tennessee.
Gigi, your poetry always sparkles with sincerity and skilled writing. Friends used to talk to each other when there was no cyberworld. Now we miss the conviviality and problem solving, not to mention gossip, experienced in days gone by. Thank you for sharing and providing the introductory scripture for your second poem. That was the perfect anchor for God versus man perspectives of nations as you so greatly said.
Dear Roy,
Thank you for your comment and being sensitive to my true heart coming through my writing. While I don’t prefer my java joe machine (I am currently into “pour overs”) I do have one, and it does get used, I admit with a sigh.
Writing about how current events in my life and the world relate to Scripture keep me grounded – an anchor as you say.
Gigi
Thank you, Gigi, especially for “Drop in a Bucket”. It does seem like a strange idea to us that all the things that are happening that naturally get us down and seem more like a flood than a drop, are simply a drop to God. “the streets ‘woked up’ with ‘pride’ ” is a wonderfully descriptive line. I, too, am tempted to despair that there seems no (human) way that all of this can be fixed; from our point of view, our nation does seem beyond repair. Thank you for reminding us that that isn’t God’s point of view.
Dear Cynthia,
Thank you for commenting. I agree that the events seem more like a flood than a drop. Writing about Scripture’s application to life keeps me meditating on the truth, and I can never do that too much, especially these days!
Gigi
My best friend and I still occasionally get together over a pot of tea. Conversation is what we really want, but ceremony over the cups and cream and sugar count for a lot, so I feel the glum cost for choice and efficiency in your jiffy “Java Joe Machine.” It deserves to be followed up by the reminder of a “Drop in a Bucket.”
Dear Margaret,
I, too, feel that the ceremony around the cups and cream and sugar are important. I bought a pretty tea pot and small tea cups to have tea with my granddaughters and the little girls next door.
While the “Java Joe Machine” is meant to be a social commentary, I am encouraged by the trend of coffee shops. There is one in our town that thrives as a meeting place for catching up around a special drink. There are plenty that go there to study and use the internet, but I see enough real conversation to have hope that we won’t all succumb to our own little worlds. Perhaps that ought to be the subject of my next coffee themed poem.
Gigi
I’ve gone through several coffee systems over the past couple of years. We’ve had 2 Nespresso systems, a Keurig machine, a “regular” coffee maker, a pour-over Chemex system and now a fancy Jura one-push system. The Jura is the easiest and probably makes the best (and most consistent) coffee. The Chemex system takes the most time but is probably the most satisfying because of the “ceremony” that goes with it. Having said that, I enjoyed this poem while sipping a joylessly produced cup from the Jura machine.
Warren,
I appreciate your quest for the perfect cup of coffee, even when “joylessly produced,” and your sense of humor. Thank you.
Gigi
I only rarely drink coffee, usually a cup of black on the hottest day of summer, but I get it. My morning cup is always white tea. I could not help wondering whether “Towns are wrecked by unexpected floods” in the second poem was a reference to the flood of unassimilated illegals in many American towns. No amount of coffee or tea could ever put a polish on that sneaker.
Dear C.B.,
Honestly, the towns wrecked by floods from hurricanes was prominently on my mind, having had my mother’s home town among them. However, I find your possible application to be quite appropriate.
Gigi