November 8, 2012 § Leave a comment
Life is like a rainbow.
Or is it more like the thundercloud?
Dark and ominous
to my soul
We’re birthed in pain
And in Pain we must return
the jagged little pieces
to their Master.
For we are more than the sum of our parts.
Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.
And I believe it.
At least that’s what I say.
Life is like a rainbow
or is it more like
shrapnel in this war
not knowing what against?
Even in this election-time.
But then One
Like a Son of God
-or was it Son of Man?-
Soldiered on, but differently.
His life, like shrapnel,
tearing through the Human Heart.
this beast and burden of selfish regret.
After all, they say,
Love conquers all.
But do they know what they’re saying?
Love conquers all.
But it has to start
Can it be
October 31, 2012 § Leave a comment
I remember when
broken hearts were enough
to carry us through
life throws our way
back when it was enough
to simply weep
Who in the beginning
His broken heart
to carry us
through these storms
through churning nights
and sleepless days
But there’s more to it now
are no longer
So we bind up
the hearts that break
and in so doing
bind the hands
that feed us
in the name of our religion
And God wept
July 19, 2012 § Leave a comment
three times broken
What is this love that stares unblinking?
Straight through the burning sun
Naked, bleeding, trusting, feeding,
hopes and dreams to die for.
Anger burns, and stomachs churn
a sense of justice yearned for.
Piercing eyes as black as night
sift the sin from shadow.
Gorge themselves on waking thoughts
hang with them on the gallows
Unblinking Stare, with golden hair
stand with me on the gallows
Righteous one, I am undone
beside myself with longing
July 2, 2011 § Leave a comment
Not birds of prey, but scavengers seeking out the refuse of this world.
Weak and dying flesh of broken dreams and failed expectations filling bellies voided by flight.
All-consuming yet mere mortal, Hope flies to and fro seeking sustenance in the most un-seemly places.
Conversion is this bird’s business, however unglamorous it might be.
Bite by bite, ripping flesh from bone, the withered vine bears only the sun-bleached remains of a fruit once promising.
Yet now only this vulture, Hope remains picking flesh from seed, head turned down, now raised to heaven in a prayer of thanks.
We turn our heads but cannot turn our eyes from the revolting spectacle before us; the grisly reminder;
Hope feeds best on broken dreams.
June 1, 2011 § Leave a comment
Footprints of carbon across the sky
tell of struggle etched from stone.
Our place carved from cold granite
In between, humility and tender struggle.
It’s all-weather; the biomass of this planet.
Granite and air mixed like 2-cycle engine oil.
Shaken, not stirred.
Fuel for revolution
one step at a time.
Forward or back, nobody knows,
for our carbon footprints lead us
Away from here.
Away from this time, this place, these people and these opportunities.
Towards something for sure, but not here.
And the tender storms rage from age to age
through passing time,
trackless wastes but no stars to steer by.
Only footprints of carbon; leading us on.
Through this foamy sea of reality and the quiet noon
Boots of lead fueled by desire,
one carbon foot leads the next.
We wrestle to be known
though our struggle is not of flesh
nor of bone;
chilling echoes of liberty ring
April 23, 2011 § 1 Comment
that I washed your feet.
I know it’s a symbol.
I know it’s not real.
But something happened there
as I knelt down
and touched your naked foot.
something came loose inside-
like an over-ripe fruit
falling from a tree
It’s a dark and liquid place,
shapeless and void
Mystery over the deeps
like raindrops of sweat
mixed with new wine
the redemption of time
So dream on
through the morning
and into the night
After all, we’re all dreamers here.
Or else we’re asleep.
April 17, 2011 § Leave a comment
with your corner on truth
and your pie in the sky ideals,
got time for a question?
Where you goin’?
You and your answers.
self-assured and certain
you’re an ecosystem to yourself
you and your pat answers
spreadin’ the word like wildfire
But your answers while true ain’t Truth.
Can you see?
with your corner on truth
jagged edges bleeding
all over me…
You–the one wrapped in wool
dyed crimson and blue
You’ve got it all, that much I see
Hey you, with your corner on truth
Wanna touch the rounded edges on mine?
it’s worn down, you see–worn smooth to the touch
not as sharp as it used to be
It’s not broken down
just broken in.
That’s what questions do to
Take the edge off
like a stiff drink.