Please look down momentarily
Around me the sinful creatures try to connect to a Holy God.
Unable to sing, I sulk carried away by the flood of worship.
The poet or prose couldn’t provide the pen for this praise.
Avoiding rocks and rapids threatening my concentration on your face.
Do I dare to look up and blind myself .
Please look down momentarily.
More than a Movie
We await green saucers hovering in the smoldering sky
But no aliens show their ships:
They are our species, of our sickly kind.
The Persistence Of [our] Memory is
Surreal, as I fell asleep wishing it all away by Manhattan morn,
Wanting to see twin sentinels guarding over the city again,
Not rubble under its cityscape.
We search for culprits and casualties
In the fog of destruction.
Waiting for the credits to run
So we can run out and kill the director, the scriptwright, the producer . . .
For we will “make no distinction.”
–
We are orphans crumbling of Babel:
Towers tumbling, imploding, upon themselves
Anger resonates as planes plummet,
Yearning for arms to hold us up
From attack from inside our country,
And from inside ourselves.
Dark side of the moon
Droplets form frozen flurries.
Life giving water threatens life,
Crystallizing my insides
Flowing toward death.
Free from the sun is no freedom.
No reckoning of my own could
Set me back on course where I should
Be toward not my homeland of green and blue,
But my home of gold and white.
Pulverize my heart
Pulverize my heart upon the butcher’s board.
Add your tenderizer and throw my wicked heart upon the wall
Then smother it in dusty grovel until I choke.
Beat me until tender, and I cough blood onto my own carcass.
Pummel my pride into powder till I do not serve my selfish self.
Wet wall
Sound rebounds from the dry wall around,
A wet wall of worship resounds
Absorbing priorities like water to cacti.
Dry mouths and wet eyes don’t dilute my
Scummy spumes, putrid, yearning for purity:
Drilled on our demigod devotion bowed to daily.
We always move standing in one place,
sick n’ pale; faltering in Your face.
Squinting to see, struggling to focus
Through joy and shame frothed sobs of mucus.
Another rock star to sing to be autographing?
No! Your veins splash soap smothering those below bathing.
Pour through the ceiling from the sudsy sky.
Intense terms lie, intense lives testify.
Holy Taint
Burnt from both fingertips to the heart,
Ruined by their Redeemer and
Scared by a Savior,
Yearning for the nail print
Ask and ye shall. . . .
Dangerous with passion,
Empowered with promise,
Striving to follow the forsaken fisher of men.
The grain and the fish
Here I am, again, thrashing on Your threshing floor.
God, grind my garbage from the good grain.
Garner it for the gardens growing beautiful garlands
to wrap around Your feet, for I cannot wear them.
“Don’t eat me!” I scream and gulp as I wiggle out of
the surging stream that is not my life, love, nor desire.
I am a fish floundering in the tweed of the Fisherman.
Caught again, unaware what other’s need.
Concert’s over
Closeness-stickiness of humid humanness
urges the closeness-stickiness of humans,
among the crowded crowd
threatening minds not to bow
to anything but selfish cares-
in the woods? Would you care
never seeing me again, girl?
I, aware of your presents
indwelled in your presence?
With females flopping round?
Called to bend, mend,
Or scare scared hearts
all but dead bleeding?
Lights fade-intending to return to my tent.
Up There Someday
Moments like these
When I see need up to my knees
When I sadly say,
“Can’t wait be up there someday.”
Because I won’t have to worry about those down there
Because there’s nothing I could do anyway for those that fell.
Every chance that had to help was yesterday,
And my sins, forgiven, I hate to say.
regret about heaven
Online
Guilt boils over as the screen sleeps in black.
Can I spend one night away from its glow
And all the pixels of people?
What if someone, somewhere needs me
No one will call, so I chat to fill this lonely night.
They tell me worries, problems, stories of mistakes,
Maybe I’ve been there once feeling their aches
And it’s killing me not to be there typing,
Messaging a friend I love dearly.
What my come if I am not there online?
wondering if i’ll make a difference over the net