Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Brook


He arrived at the edge of the wood.  Miles and miles of hard forest lay behind him.  Wild beasts had attacked and met their end at his hands.  Cliffs rose high and daunting, and he climbed them.  Lacerations covered him.  Filth of sweat and dirt and blood stank on him.
            His soul was tired.  His body was weary.
            At the edge of the wood was a field.  A friendly brook divided it.  Sounds of delicate water flow woke his thirst and tingled his wounds.
            Cautiously, he stepped from the forest, but stopped, stone still.  He was not alone.
            Remembering back through the months of wandering, no other person had been there.  Nobody had been seen.  Further back in his memory, back to the very earliest, he had not seen a figure of such striking beauty.
            Sunlight shimmered in her hair.  Her skin looked delicate and soft.  Radiance reflected from her dress which twirled as she danced barefoot in the light.
            Cowering behind a tree, he watched.
            She stepped lightly to the brook and dipped in her toe.  She crouched and drew water to her lips.  Delicately she pulled a daisy and placed it in her hair.  And then she danced again.  
            Her loveliness astounded him and, losing his balance, he fell with a thud.
            She looked his way.  "Who is there?" she said.
            "No one."
            "But I heard something."
            "Just ignore that."
            "I know you are there.  Who are you?"
            "No one.  No one."
            "You sound like someone.  Step out where I can see you."
            "I'd rather not."
            "Please?  Are you shy?"
            "No.  But I'm filthy."
            "I don't mind.  Please come out so I can see you."
            "OK."
            So he stood and came from behind the tree.
            "Please step into the light.  I want to see you."
            He did.  Slowly.  
            She observed him quietly.
            "You really are very dirty."
            "I know."
            "And you have many wounds."
            "Yes, I do."
            "And your clothes are in tatters."
            "Very true."
            "You look thirsty."
            "I am."
            She held out her hand.  "Come with me to the brook."
            He followed without holding her hand.
            "It's deepest there at the bend," she said, her dainty finger extended.  "Go in."
            He began to remove his shirt.
            "Oh, no," she said, "There's no need to do that.  Just go in as you are.  You'll see."
            Carefully, he waded in.  Exhilaration filled each body part as it entered the water.  Toes tingled with life.  Knees were renewed.  The water was delicately cold.  He dove toward the deep spot.  Every muscle sang out in relief.  Every wound's pain chilled to silence.  Grime pulled away by layers.  He stood and breathed the clean air deeply.  His clothes, now mended and new, shone in the sun.
            "This is miraculous!" he said.
            She laughed delicately.
            "I feel marvelous!" he said.
            "Yes.  Isn't it wonderful?"
            He walked out of the brook.
            She reached out her hand to touch his, “Let’s dance,” she said.  But he flinched away.
            "What is the matter?  Would you like to dance with me?"
            "I can't dance.  Not with you.  I'm only a boy?"
            "Oh."
            "I was left in those woods to wander.  I have seen and done many horrible things." 
            "Oh." 
            "I may look clean.  But can't you see I'm just a boy?  I cannot dance with a woman."
            She smiled kindly.  "Come with me," she beckoned.  "Come."
            She moved to a place where the water moved slowly.  "Look," she said.
            He looked at the water.
            Looking back at him he saw familiar eyes.  But they were in a face more square than he remembered.  The hair was a similar color but fuller with highlights of white that glistened.  Broad shoulders and broad chest replaced the narrow ones he remembered.  He examined his hands.  They were thick and strong.
            "Did the water do this?" he said.
            "No."
            "Then how?'
            "This is how you came from the wood."
            "But not so clean."
            "True.  But how you are now is what I saw under your wounds and rags and grime."
            "You saw this, and I did not?  
            "Yes."
            "You saw how I was before and wasn't afraid?"
            "Yes."
            "How?"
            Because I was once like you were.  I was lost in the forest.  I also saw and did many horrible things."
            "I don't believe you."
            "This because you did not yet drink from the brook."
            "But I was in there.  You saw me."
            "I saw you bathe.  You did not drink.  Please.  Drink."
            He crouched, dipped his hand, and drank.
            Joy filled him.  It shot through him.  The sky grew more deeply blue.  Clouds were more radiantly white.  Grass brightened its green, and delicate songs came from the trees. 
            “Goodness,” he said, “Goodness.  What is this place?”
            “This is the place he made for us.  This is where we were meant to be.”
            “Who is he?”
            “I don’t fully know yet.”
            “I would like to stay here.”
            “And I would like you to stay here.”
            He held out his hand.  “Will you dance with me?”
            She hesitated.  “Are you sure?”
            “You were dancing alone before.”
            “Yes, I was.”
            “Would you rather dance alone?”
            “No.”
            “Then dance with me.  I will lead.”
            “Do you know how to dance?”
            “No.”
            “Then how will you lead?”
            “Simply pay attention to what you need and stay one step ahead.”
            She smiled broadly.  “You may step on my toes.”
            “Very true.”
            “We may trip and fall.”
            “That is possible, too.”
            “I am sometimes clumsy.”
            “So am I.  But if we fall and get dirty, we will simply go back in the brook.  If we are discouraged we will drink deeply again.”
            “Then I will dance with you,” she said, and took his hand.
            They twirled and bowed and tripped and drank and bathed and danced all through the day.
            Suddenly, she stopped.
            “What is it?” he said.
            “I saw something move.  Just over there.”
            He looked.  There was a child.  Filthy.  Bleeding.  They walked hand in hand to the forest.  He crouched.
            “Don’t be afraid, little one.  You have come to a good place.”
            “It looks nice here, mister,” said the child.  “May I stay?”
            “Yes,” he said.  And he said to the woman, “Will you clean the child?”
            “I would love to,” and she did.
            He stood at the edge of the wood, watching the woman and child.  He also gazed deeply into the forest, looking as if he was very concerned.
            The woman came back with the child clean and radiant and joyful.  “See how clean and full of joy?” she said.
            “Delightful,” he said, then picked up the child and kissed its cheek.
            “Then why are you less full of cheer?  Do you need another drink?”
            “Possibly,” he said.  “But that is not what bothers me.”
            “Then what does?”
            He sighed deeply.  “I came from far across the forest, and so did you.  Now this child comes to us.  I think there could be more.”
            “Yes.  There probably are.”
            “Seeing you and the child, now so clean and joyous causes me to remember how frightened we were in the forest.”
            “Yes.  Me, too.”
            “There is plenty of water here for many, many more just like us.’
            “Yes, there is.”
            “Men and women and children.”
            “I believe they are out there.”
            “I think we should go find them.”
            She blanched.  “What about the child?”
            “The child will come with us.”
            “What about the sun?  There is no sun in there.”
            “We will climb to the tops of trees and cut away the branches.”
            “What about water?  There is no healing water.”
            “We will bring some with us.  When we run out we will come back to refill.”
            “And what about the beasts?”
            “I fought many alone.  So did you, and so did the child.  If we are together, no beast will stand a chance against us.”
            “I see,” she said.  “And as we find other men, women, and children, our strength will grow.”
            “Yes.”
            “And many will see the light and drink the water.”
            “Yes.”
            “And you will lead us.”
            “Yes.”
            “Then I will go with you.”
            They furnished a way to carry the water.  They furnished a way to cut the branches.  And they went.
           

Sunday, December 4, 2011

A Penny

An old man met a young boy on the street.

What do you have in your hand?
Said the man
To the boy.
What do you have in your hand?

It's a penny I hold in my hand.
Said the boy
To the man.
It's a penny I hold in my hand.

What are you going to buy?
Said the man
To the boy.
What are you going to buy?

Some candy or gum or a toy.
Said the boy
To the man.
Some candy or gum or a toy.

Is that what you get for a cent?
Said the man
To the boy.
Is that what you get for a cent?

I can't buy very much more.
Said the boy
To the man.
I can't buy very much more.

The old man scratched his chin.

I believe I see something more there.
Said the man
To the boy.
I believe I see something more there.

I believe that your eyes are not right.
Said the boy
To the man.
I believe that your eyes are not right.

It's magic you hold in your hand.
Said the man
To the boy.
It's magic you hold in your hand.

Just copper is all that I see.
Said the boy
To the man.
Just copper is all that I see.

It's a key that you hold in your hand.
Said the man
To the boy.
It's a key that you hold in your hand.

A key to what?
Said the boy.

It's a key to open your dreams.
Said the man
To the boy.
It's a key to open your dreams.

I'd rather have candy and toys.
Said the boy
To the man.
I'd rather have candy and toys.

You can have all of those that you dream.
Said the man
To the boy.
You can have all of those that you dream.

How long is that going to take?
Said the boy
To the man.
How long is that going to take?

Could take years or months or a moment.
Said the man
To the boy.
Could take years or months or a moment.

There is candy for sale over there.
Said the boy
To the man.
There is candy for sale over there.

This is very true.
Said the man.

And then he said,

If you use all your magic and keys
To acquire things you do not need
A day will come when you will find
The magic has run out of time.
And you will be up to your knees
In misery, sorrows and greed.
So be wise in how your apply
Magic and keys to doors passing by.

The boy pondered this, looking at the penny.

It's so small, it can't become much.
Said the boy
To the man.
It's so small, it can't become much.

It's greatness lies in your own heart.
Said the man
To the boy.
It's greatness lies in your own heart.

And time will show it to me?
Said the boy
To the man.
And time will show it to me?

As surely as night follows day.
Said the man
To the boy.
As surely as night follows day.

What magic can happen from this?
Said the boy
To the man.
What magic can happen from this?

Feed the poor, heal the sick, and show love.
Said the man
To the boy.
Feed the poor, heal the sick, and show love.

Even with something so small?
Said the boy
To the man.
Even with something so small?

A great oak comes from a small seed.
Said the man
To the boy.
A great oak comes from a small seed.

Can a penny grow into great wealth?
Said the boy
To the man.
Can a penny grow into great wealth?

If you treat it with wisdom and care.
Said the man
To the boy.
If you treat it with wisdom and care.

My neighbor is sick and is poor.
Said the boy
To the man.
My neighbor is sick and is poor.

Then rejoice because magic is near.
Said the man
To the boy.
Then rejoice because magic is near.

The old man smiled and walked away.

I must see if this penny can grow.
Said the boy
To himself.
I must go see how it grows.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

The Stream

Dip my fingers into the stream
Where thoughts of millions bubble by
Bring a little back and jot it down.
See if others can see.

Where thoughts of millions bubble by
Gray-white stream, sparkle against black.
Above the light I see with my eye.
The place where truth yet abounds.

Gray-white stream, sparkle against black.
Truth flows purely and deep.
The false is swept clean, no more to harm.
Mankind is free to be free.

Truth flows purely and deep.
Delicate to the touch of my hand.
Cosmically bound by the one who is truth,
Curving low to show those who can see.

Delicate to the touch of my hand.
Though it rushes so quickly by.
Calling to writers and poets, "Please come,
Drink deeply from me and share with all."

Dip my fingers into the stream.
Gray-white stream, sparkle against black.
The false is swept clean, no more to haunt.
Curving low to show those who can see.

Drink deeply of me and share with all.

To Paper.

Tonight the blank page stares back at me.
   It that a challenge?
   Do you want to fight?
But what is there to fight?
    Would it be better to dance?
   I can dance with my pencil,
    Leaving trails of thought.
   I can make her swirl and loop
    And slide straight as can be.
   In our dance we make art,
    Not just for me and for your,
   But for any who may come 
    And read.

There is no fight to be.
   Only the art and expression of 
    A man.  A man of earth.
     A spiritual traveler.
      An earth-face wanderer.
       A galaxy spinner.
        A universe expander.
   Listening to the winds of thought,
    Blustering above my senses,
     I dip my fingers into the 
   Slate gray stream and jot
     Down how the water feels.
   Salmon jump in there.
    Bears earn their fill before sleep.
     Moose drink deeply.

All I do is bring it back from 
  No Where.
    So it can become 
      Now Here.

I will not fight you, blank page.
  You are not my enemy.
    The pen is mightier than the sword
      But I will not use it against
  You.

You are my friend.  You listen
  Without judgment.
  I can trust you to keep my thoughts 
    And rants and laments and joys.
     They will endure because of your
       Trustworthy face.

How many before have danced with pen 
  Upon you?
    Millions?  Billions?
No two dances ever the same.
    Even the Holy One of old danced,
     With his finger on the hearts of 
       Men, 
         Inspiring them to dance his words with you.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

The Traveling Man

I am the traveling man.
  I've seen the world from Osan to Kulyab.
I've eaten breakfast in forgotten bunkers where American boys
  Awaited the Japanese
Far out in the Alutian Islands.
  I've had lunch in five-star restaurants in Dubai.
I've had dinner in war ravished Iraq
  And humble Ohio kitchens.

I am the traveling man.
  I whisper along under a dark blanket.
I travel in sphere or tube of light and fire,
  Sparked by long stored star particles
Sent here in eons before time began.

I am the traveling man.
  Red tail lights curve before me, crest and dip.
Souls plunge into the night ahead.
  White lights follow me, blinding.
I cannot see the passions
  I may have left behind.

I am the traveling man.
  A city welcomes me with cautious embrace.
Harrisburgh.  Omaha.  Anchorage.
  At the taste of my wandering heart,
I am spit out to go seek Ninevah.

I am the traveling man. 
  Like God the universe wanderer,
Setting stars and time in motion.
  But my heart longs to be with my beloved.
She is in a place I cannot go.

I am the traveling man.
  The nightly silence rings.
Faintly behind it the memory of small feet
  Dance and play in the next room.

I am the traveling man.
  Pull me in, but send me out.
Ferocious momentum.  Light speed.
  Love blossoms in velocity.
But dies in the wind.

I am the traveling man.
  Sleep comes where it must.
Hotel.  Back seat.  Airplane.  Outside.
  Darkness pulls over my head,
Speckled pin pricks of light.
  I go so far for it to find me.

I am the traveling man.
  There was a precious in my pocket.
My goal, my purpose, my dream.
  I pulled it out, but it was gone.
Coveting it, I fled.

I am the traveling man.
  A million keys have passed me.
Rooms.  Jobs.  Hearts.
  Could I build a house from those keys?
Would that house be home?

I am the traveling man.
  Where is the rock where I can land?
What is the place where my quiet place resides?
  There, will the traveling food end?
Will the fatty, frozen, fake, unzip, feast
  Become the plant, grow, clean, snap, nourish?

I am the traveling man.
  Open your arms to welcome me.
Feed me from your pantry.
  Clear the dust from my face and feet.
Learn from the wisdom I bring.
  But do not lock the door.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Limitless

I am only limited by what can limit you.
Your power is unthinkable.
Your passion is unstoppable.
Your vision goes beyond what man might think is possible.

These chains that hold me back are no match for you.
These chains you do not see.
You see only possibility.
If I just rely on you I'll find my true ability.

Your holy light can push all the fear and lies away.
These chains are feeble threads.
Empowered by my dread
Of groundless worry that attacks and fully clouds my head.

Oh God give me your freedom - show me me through Holy eyes.
Lift me when I am humble.
Guide my feet so I don't stumble.
Fill my eyes with only you while these mini mountains crumble.

If you have made me new then I am limitless.
My power is unthinkable.
My passion is unstoppable.
My vision goes beyond what men might think is possible.

Help me to live this out all of each and every day.
Bring me those who need your love
So I can help them rise above
By pointing them to only you whose grace is far more than enough.

All

Nothing is excluded from His Allness.
  No single point of life could ever be.
Looking past the things we see around us
  Will not take us down the path where our faith leads.
Instead we should look deeply at creation
  Observing nature's constant ebb and flow.
Loving ones who come from every nation,
  As if our differences we'd never known.
At heart the people can all be united,
  Living side by side in harmony.
Our private fear will keep us all divided,
  Miserable lives lived separately.
Creation holds the key to our survival,
  Not just sustenance but wisdom is found there.
Viewed through our new eyes can bring revival,
  If we through stillness can become aware,
That all is a reflection of His Glory.
  He's woven in and out of every spec.
And if we listen closely to His story,
  He blesses us in ways we don't suspect.
But first there has to come the inner knowing,
  That His Allness is what joins up everything.
From fireflies whose praises are their glowing,
  To lifted hearts when they can hear the church bells ring.
The Allness can envelope us so warmly,
  Everything from neutrons out to galaxies.
Tenderness I find in there serves to remind me,
  His servant heart can bring me to my knees.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Fresh

Lord, my heart is fresh and raw
Something in me from far you saw
Worth a fight, to conquer death
And breath into me your holy breath
So hot and pure and lofe-love filled
The old me died and his possetion spilled
My shell burst open at the touch of your love
My mask ripped away when your word moved
I stand now naked before your greatness
You speak to me gently, and help me assess
Where you want me to go, who you want me to be
As I learn to grow and follow your lead
You will drape me in your robes of honor
Pure and white to reflect your splendor
You will heal my heart while guiding it straight
So I can be eager to follow my fate
A day will come soon when my path I'll see clearly
And I will charge down it knowing you will be near me
Down there will be others, broken, lonely and raw
Whom I can lead back and show them my God
Who clothed me so richly in his righteousness
Then sent me out ready to other lives bless
It was for this purpose you looked far and wide
To find this lost sould who was trying to hide
You guided me back and salved all my wounds
And now all my thoughts are centered on you
Please mold this raw heart, tender and new
So I can go serve and bring glory to you.

Mask

To walk in the woods
Black coat, blue jeans
Crackling branches, pine needles under my feet
Startled deer bound on nimble legs
White tails flag, vanish through the thick.
Fingers ache in the cold.
My thumb presses the spot
Where her ring used to be.

Cars travel distant roads
Children complain, "How much longer?"
Angst and pressure build
Beneath masks improperly fit
Bursts of crackling life ring loud
When truth emerges strongly through the veil.

Love runs freely, bounding off through the wood
A cold face where a mask used to be.

Next

Shackled tight and tied down low.
Below the light where no one goes
Freed from the bitterness without.
Then bound again and did not shout
For freedom's sake
For freedom's sake
We offer life and gall and ire
E'en though our joys so soon expire
So those behind will go before
Learn-ed from our wisdom cease all war.

Daughter

How I'm achng for you
    when the stars come out at night
A military daughter
    was never quite the life
I ever really wanted
    to build o'er all this time.
And now I cannot see you
    and I'm lonely every night.
I miss the celebrations,
    the new joys of your life.
And so I rest with hope
    that I'll see you again in time.

Frim

GLOBREN FILSOB
GLOBREN BOCK!
FLORDRA FLOGWITH
GLIMBREND SLOCK!
DRA MOBE! DRA MAIE!
DRA FROME! DRA SPRAI!
FILDRA WOLKITH BRACH
TWOMB!
LE GLID DEM PLUR
LE GLUD DEM PLUE
LE GLID DEM C'LUR
LE GLUD DEM SLOO!
MAIE DROLKA BROM BASTA
BRAND FRUDEMA CONASTA
FREN DU FRIM
FREN DI CROM
MERDA TRE GRUMBA
FLOMCRASTA!

Rebirth

Years of loneliness and temporary friendships stretched out before me
Almost too much for one man to bear. 
Ache for a place of belonging.
Arms heavy with the memory of my children.
Ears hear my father's voice.
Cheek feels my mother's cheek against my own.
A thousand aromas woven from my auntie's kitchen and wrap around old hymns she knows so well.
Little arms wrap round my neck and messy faces kiss me
Uncle!  Mr. Shawn!  Daddy!
Look at me!
Play with me! 
Love me! 
A woman sits at my side
Our hips touch, our elbows bump, she smiles.
She has loved me so long - and will stand loyally at my side.
 
I feel these things as if they are real.
Fantasies flood me of the day I'll be with the ones I love so tenderly
When I will squeeze my son's shoulder in pride
Smell my daughter's hair at her embrace
Smile until my face aches
Talk until the sun rises and sets and rises again.
Slip into a quiet place with the woman who loves me, pledges her life
To me
Connect, connect, connect, mind and body and spirit and song
Before no one but the us who is within us.
Fly free as air bringing life to ones who inhale
Life ebbing out of me.

The daydream ends with a grind, a vinyl record screech
A tintinabulating sparkle of glass upon the floor.
I look up and see me here.
No children come to kiss me.
No woman's hip touches mine.
The smells are only fighting jet exhaust like sulfuric anger
Brought low from the sky
Military tents which never grow mold
Like rolling rocks which have no home
Trash piled dumpsters buzzing and wriggling with fly, bee, and maggot.
Filling my head with positivity
Stems the flow of despair leaking into my boat
Sinking me below the cold waters like a wilted lily pad
So lovely and fresh last spring
Forgotten and frozen and broken down to ever blackening muck
Stellar atoms no longer held together by lifelove's song.

In the spring the sun comes again
Stirs dormant life down below
Causing a reach beyond the inky water's bowel.
Spreading like spiderweb arms striving
For freedom, life, and possibility. 
Timid with the chilling touch of air and light
Having been so long beneath dirt, death, muck
Deafening, gurgling water.
Afraid at first to fully unfurl or let the majestic beauty within
Shine happily back at the sun.
Freedom then will be the power of restoration
The woman's hip will touch
The messy face will kiss
The and the joy of joy of joy will weave
Through harmonies' rhythm of the light which is the love
Of the beyond beyond the beyond
Within each one.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Flee

Heavy shoes clumping in gravel
Large belly sways.  Vacant eyes
Look not within or without, but
View stories from timeless theater
Inside.
Violence.  Sensational lust and greed.
Countenance fallen to numb.
Shame grips tightly.  Pity,
Like geese honking above,
Fled for safety and restful place.
Wandering soul, to and fro,
Conquered, kept, unaware.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

The Gray

Blackened hairs upon my chin
Belie the wisdom found within
From years of error and false starts
Fallen dreams and broken hearts
The day will come when gray I'll be
My wisdom then others will see
But only if my words and deeds
Come through love and fill their needs
So until then I'll grow and learn
And through my life their respect earn.

Thing

Knuckles white
Heart racing

Could someone be out there
Plotting and taking

My precious, my only
My one simple thing

That keeps me so warm
So warm that it stings

I think I hear voices
Somewhere far out beyond

These four walls which I've built
I sure hope there's no one

Trying.  To take.  My thing.

I've tucked it below me
Above and beyond me

Somewhere no one else looks
Somewhere deep inside me

For years it's been building
For years it's been growing

It's come to be precious
And I can't resist it

Sometimes it abuses
And locks me in corners

It neglects and mistreats
It punishes, belittles

All those who come close or
Speak up with defiance

I tried to speak out once
Then twice, three times and four

But it hushed me harshly
In prison in my heart

The voices get louder
Somewhere far out beyond

I think someone wants me
To open my door

But outside there is light
Outside there is freedom

I know freedom is bad
My precious thing tells me

It says I should ignore
The voices far beyond

Trying.  To take.  My thing.

But.

The voices sound friendly
As if they really care

I want to believe it
But they frighten me so

What if I open up
See voices with faces

Will they be kindly ones
Or will they attack me

My precious says don't trust
The unknown which can hurt

My thoughts say don't worry
Could things ever get worse

And would I really care
If voices were out there

Trying.  To take.  My thing.

A glance 'round behind me
To be sure I'm alone

I mustn't upset it
It's words can shake my bones

A twist of the handle
Sudden burst of white light

The faces are many
Smiling kindly at me

Please come out and join us
We need one more to play

A gravely voice speaks out
Gargling with hatred

"Shut that door, I tell you
You cannot go out there"

I cower at the voice
I should have known better

Smiling, kindly faces
Coming to deceive me

Trying.  To take.  My thing.

Cow'ring in the corner
Now feeling comforted

The voice, it tries to sooth
"You chose wisely my friend

The outside is evil
It mustn't e'er come in

Fight in every season
Fight for life every day

I am all you need now
I am your one true love"

Then I'm left in silence
Ringing horrible fear

I'm not sure I believe
I must see for myself

If anyone beyond
Out beyond my door is

Trying.  To take.  My thing.

The door opens with ease
Light floods every corner

Faces merge into one
Smiling it becons me

"Turn around and look in
Something there you should see"

My thing in the corner
Chains bind it to the wall

It is small and broken
A useless lump of mush

The evil voice I feared
Powerless in the light

"It never once bound you"
Friendly voice says to me

"You were not prisoner
You always had freedom

'Twas always yours to choose
All you need do is act

Freedom will come find you
Joyfullness can be yours

When you listen to it
Possibilities start

Now, look, your room is clean
All four walls and the floor

Come out and stay with us
Freedom in full now is yours"

My room looks so empty
But for it I now yearn

When I observe myself
I see my nakedness

Back into the confines
Of my room I must go

I cannot bare freedom
I close the door behind

My room I'm glad to see
Welcomes me back inside

Quietly the voice says
Whispering in my ear

"Fool, you did not listen
You're safer here with me

Sit down in the corner
You must listen closely

You are not for loving
Your heart cannot be free"

Now the silent voice grows
Each syllable enraged

My white walls growing dark
The cleanness gathers grime

I'm resting in comfort
Knowing one thing for sure

No one out far beyond
Will ever come back here

Trying.  To take.  My thing.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Knowledge will suffice

Blades whirl through pretty air, cutting forward and up
To bring man and machine on high
And watch all those below

Steel and fuel and fire and hate
Passed through the valleys, and rivers wide
Watching, watching, ready to pounce

Guns blast, shells fall, laughing galumphs of rage
“HA-HA!” they cry, thirsting for more
While on the ground men die

They got their desserts. They have their reward
Death to those who don’t heed
Death to all who don’t see

Steel and fuel and fire and hate
Force is used to beat the weak
The weak whose lives mean naught

Blades glide through pretty air, relaxing forward and down.
Guns away and noises cease
Broad are the grins. Clap the hands – well done

Drink. Drunk. Sex. Sleep.

Silhouettes against the lights loom large
Security patrols machines
Wild dogs bark. Far sirens blare

Between machines a phantom floats
Mere inches above the ground
Ancient one, the wise, the dead, the death

Wings as silent as thought push
Gently beneath crescent moon
Dark eyes see the deeds and hearts.

Do not accuse. Do not forgive.
A pardon you must not plead.
Knowledge will suffice.

Knowledge will suffice.

Bodies of men in woods far flung
Young and old their limbs askew
Blood pours out and feeds the earth

Mother cries. Father weeps.
Daughter begs.
Sons’ hearts grow harder for loss.

We will avenge. By strength of Allah
To war with infidel man and beast
Our dead one day we repay.

Steel and fuel and fire and hate

Bullets the air rend whistling up
Campfires warm the outside alone
The heart' frozen pain it can’t warm

Wash. Pray. Sex. Sleep.

Between angry men a phantom floats
Mere inches above the ground
Ancient one, the wise, the dead, the death

Wings as silent as thought push
Gently beneath crescent moon
Dark eyes see the deeds and hearts

Do not accuse. Do not forgive.
A pardon you must not plead
Knowledge will suffice.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Kay & Bob's Laundromat

A young couple sits by
      the window.  His head
rests on her shoulder.
Kay greets with a smile.
Yellow walls, long lasting flowers.
The open sign calls out to the night,
glowing red and blue.
Kay speaks of Koreans, friendliest people on earth.
Her people.
Bob's white hair shimmers with wisdom.
Maine farmer's hands grip yours firmly.
"Good to see ya!"
Children draw candy from gumball machines.
Old women fold their delicates.
Neighbors come.  Strangers come.
We meet and talk and laugh.
Do you need quarters?  Kay gets you some.
Do you need soap?  Two for 75.
A small baby cries.  Her young mother
stands.
Her father pulles clothes from the dryer.
The washer is done, Kay
comes to find you.
I hope to come back
here next
weekend.

Too much

You loved me too deeply.
More passion than sense.
Filled you.
All efforts were snuffed out.
'less I was the goal.
For you.
Burning in deep places.
Churned dark memories.
Scared you.
Kept emotions escaped.
Fleeing from my arms.
Saved you.
My heart was a safe place.
I could not convince.
Show you.

Faster

The world is spinning faster
    not of axis but of time
How many lifetimes fit into the span
    of one life?

Divorces pulling homes apart
    not one's immune, not even mine
Unfaithfuless, adultery fill the land
    is there hope?

The earth beneath us trembles so hard
    her foundations coming loose
I wonder if we all can leave the world behind
    somewhere new?

The internet can pull us in
    connections between us all
So many people are joining together
    are we one?

Can we slow her dizzying speed?
    run away from our future
Would it change the course we set for ourself?
    likely not.

An emerald bird

Feathers glitter and distract
  Green as jewels sparkling under the water's surface
    He dashes up
      He darts down
Sleek and fast, wings flutter in a blur
  Summer sun rages
    Browning grass sways gently
      Three men sit by the road
They are dirty
  Sad eyes smile
    May I smoke?  Cigarette?
      Bloody feet from broken glass
We smoke together
  No words pass
    Languages don't match
      Police men take them away
Emerald bird lands on the wire
  Spiraled with menacing edge
    Distant gunfire
      Bullets rat-tat
Can this be the start of our past?   

Where are you?

They say you're the God of the universe
    But when I look, your face I don't see.

They say I'm supposed to run to your arms.
    But when I look, your face I don't see.


They say Jesus died to forgive my sin.
    But when I look, your face I don't see.


They say Jesus left but will come again.
    But when I look, your face I don't see.


Where have you gone?
What more should I be?
Where are the nails that you took for me?
 
You'll stand with me.
If I can be still.
I'll rest and let you, my comfort be.
 
They say you're the God of the universe.
    Then when I look, you're right beside me.
 
They say I'm supposed to run to you.
    Then when I look, you're right beside me.
 
They say Jesus died forgiving me.
    Then when I look, you're right beside me.
 
They say Jesus left but will come again.
    Then when I look, you're right beside me.

Reasons

For reasons
    I don't understand.

For reasons
    I used to hold your hand.

For reasons
    I used to be your man.

For reasons
    I don't understand.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Crouching

Looking underneath the table.
Balls of dust. Crumbs of food.
Darkness feels its lonlinest.

The boy crouched down to hide his face.
Glares of shame. Words of hate.
Out of his chest he pulled his heart.

He held it up to ponder it.
Pink with life. Clogged with fear.
Then with his teeth he took a bite.

A taste so sweet he wanted more.
Succulent. Drink it down.
Do not share it with anyone.

He ate his fill of tender heart.
No more there. Heart all gone.
Into the hole he put his hand.

His skin grew scales in self defense.
Empty place. Heart once was.
No one must come or they will pay.

The years slip by but no one knows.
Underneath. Darkness feeds.
A wounded chest reveals no pain.

What did you say?

I thought you said you wanted
me to be your man.

I thought you said you would
always hold my hand.

I thought you said you'd travel
with me to foreign lands.

I thought you said you'd be
with me to make a stand.

I thought you said your love
would never make demand.

I thought you said we'd work
to make our love expand.

I thought you wanted me
to come be your husband.

At first I thought for sure
your words were just offhand.

There really is no way
that I misunderstand.

You've told me now quite clearly
so I can comprehend.

The love we once held dear
has now come to an end.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

My hatred

Is it wrong for me to hate?

When I see the pain in my children's eyes.

Deep, shaking passion churnes, roiling down deep.
Money.

Sex.

Lies.

Ambition.

Our family had been great.

We had it together and loved each other.

Loyalty and honesty were the values we tried to instill.

Money.

Sex.

Lies.

Ambition.

Your career had to inflate.

You wanted more and sacrificed us.

"Off with their heads," you might as well say.

Money.

Sex.

Lies.

Ambition.








For Hannah, Isaac, and Dave

I cannot say
Why I left you behind

But seeing your face
Now serves to remind

How years have slipped past
With me unaware

Your place in my heart
Has been so long bare

The future will show
The path we must take

All the old habits
Of life we must break

Wounds were inflicted
By them and by me

I burried mine down
Below the dark sea

Time can heal nothing
We have to dig deep

Down into the dirt
Where crawling things creep

I'd like to come back
Your big brother to be

And fill that good role
Expected of me

But I will not beg
Or ask you for more

Than what you can give
From a heart's open door

Perhaps it's too late
My effort too small

Experience shows
Clear words on the wall

My heart will stay here
Should you choose to come

And welcome me in
As part of your home.

How does it appear?

The smokey voice of a party girl
Too many cigarettes cloud her world

A trip to New York, my mind to clear
And settle for me what's seen from here

People on streets with signs proclaim
Hoping for bankers to flee in shame

My co-traveler's far too young to know
What things had been like so long ago.

One life can bridge gaps between now and then
And see the past coming to happen again.

But will I show courage to reveal my sight
Or will I stay silent about what is right?

We do not like our errors to hear
And it is not wise to show our fear.

So on her way this traveler will go
To parties or churches that I cannot know.

My views with me will stay 'till my end
The indifference I show is only pretend.

Her young smokey voice will sound in my ears
To remind me not all is as it appears.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

I am a citizen, not a consumer.

Consumer: (noun) a person or thing that consumes.

Citizen: (noun) a native or naturalized member of a state or nation who owes allegiance to its government and is entitled to its protection.

This new Occupy Wall Street movement has me wondering if we have lost our identity as Americans. Thousands of people from different walks of life are speaking together, and asking for the same thing. But what is it?

The criticism I hear is that these people don’t have a leader. I hear they don’t have a manifesto. I hear that they don’t know what they want or who they are, but can only state what they don’t want and who they are not. I think this is a symptom of our lost identity as a nation.

Our loss of identity stems from many places, but can possibly be boiled down to the difference between two ideas. Are we citizens or are we consumers?

What is the difference?

I thought of a few.

A consumer thinks about what he will buy with his next paycheck.

A citizen thinks about how he can provide for his family.

A consumer commutes to work in a smoke bellowing SUV all by herself.

A citizen finds a more economical way in order to save resources for future generations.

A consumer complains when taxes go up and worms his way out of paying them.

A citizen pays his taxes because he sees the value of schools, defense, infrastructure, and so on.

A consumer marks the ballot all the way down the left or the right, if she bothers to vote at all.

A citizen votes her conscience and expects her elected officials to do the same.

A consumer is bound by debt, advertising, fear, bigotry, jingoism, addiction, and does not see the ties that bind.

A citizen sees the binding ties and struggles to loosen them in order achieve true freedom.

A consumer shakes his fist in anger, she places the blame on her neighbor, he hates the alien, she craves the larger house and car.

A citizen knows that we have a government of the people, for the people, and by the people and acknowledges the power therein.

Yes, I am a citizen who consumes. But if I am only a consumer, then I am a fool, and have sold myself into slavery.

I am a citizen, not a consumer.