Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Revisiting Psalm 121

There never seemed to be much hope
this side of the heavens. So
we pinned our hopes on high. Perhaps
there was a chance among the stars.
We worshiped sun and moon. The gods
lived in the hills and halls of air.
We set them in the mountains but
they never seemed to rise above
our own imaginations. So
we dropped our gaze and looked inside
for redemption and release
to find the ash sifting through
filthy hands and dirtied fingers.
Then you showed up out of the blue,
raised our eyes to gaze beyond

the stars into the mind of God.

This Is The End of the World

...... This is the end of the world:
sitting on the porch sipping
coffee with the scent of wisteria
floating by. Wondering why
The world can’t seem to slow itself down.

...... This is the end of the world:
single mom cursing the absent
baby daddy for leaving them
behind for some rainbow ride
with no looking back in love or regret.

...... This is the end of the world:
some politician selling his soul
to keep the money rolling in
holding on the reins of power
forgetting those who put him there.

...... This is the end of the world:
some preacher preaching the end of time
selling his books and schemes on gold
and stock, while in vestments holds
the body and blood of Christ hostage.

...... This is the end of the world:
where the lion lies down with the lamb
the child will play in the den of the snake;
a world renewed for humankind
where man and woman live in peace.

...... This is the end of the world.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010


The clown laughs,
his heart out
breaking as
he runs his lover's
through on stage.
It seems the crowd
cheers loudest for
the tragic comedy.
When it turns
out real there is
the awkward silence,
the flash of terror.
And then they yawn
and go back home,
laughing. La
è finita!

Sunday, April 25, 2010


Alone in my car, heading South
on I-thirty-five while the sun
is rising up in the East. I
rose up at four o’clock this morning
to make the trip. Not enough
sleep at nights put you in
precarious positions with
the sun melting on the side
of your face. The hum-thrumming sound of tires
spinning on asphalt wears me down.
My youngest is exhausted from
too many friends with too little time
while my oldest tires from
too few. My wife is torn in two
by worry while I’m about
to drift off (the road onto the shoulder).
I have to slow this old car down
and get off the thoroughfare
before we all crash and burn.

Friday, April 23, 2010

According to the Coal Miner

Digging into the darkness of
Donbass is no easy task. You
descend a thousand meters Into
the womb of the world and midwife coal.
I know each day could be my last
and the mine my sepulcher
I suppose life beneath
the surface made me see beneath
the surface of things, perhaps even
into the things of the spirit. Who knows?
I am just a simple miner:
a digger bound to the tools of an era
past, who remembers the names of the dead.
There was once a time when a shaft of life
penetrated deep into
this heart of darkness and I recognized
the faces of the living: the nameless
children of those whose names I
recalled. Now I dig In another
place: the heart of a child. Once
I was a midwife of the earth
but now I witness the birth of heaven.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Rock Island

He sat alone and read his book
oblivious to all who passed.
Waitresses were only waves
lapping against a coral reef.
Although the coffee shop was filled
With piped in music and tête-à-têtes
He sat, a solitary stone,
surrounded by a sea of life.

I Am Weary of You, Death

I am weary of you, Death.
.....I am much too tired
..........with watching children die;
...............with suicidal homicides,
....................with ethnic cleansing genocides.

You do not come as a friend
nor do you bring relief.
The only things you bring with you
are fears and tears and grief.

Your press is better than deserved: are overrated, over served.
..........And, please spare me the nerve
...............of the preachers who look to paint as an angel or God’s saint

to pluck a flower from earth
to plant in his paradise
(as if he didn’t have enough).
Do they think this his design?

You are an abomination,
.....the result of condemnation.
..........You’re the final deconstruction
...............and the ultimate demonstration
....................that something has gone awry

with our existence here on earth.
And although I will die,
I am weary of you death.

Sunset Dawning

Three celebrants levitate
while an earth bound three wait.
And the light shines from the West
casting shadows in the East.
Imagination and fantasy
bear me away in ecstasy
and in fear. So the spirit
soars, carried away by lyric
impossibilities dawning.
The airborne three fly from the coming
light of reason, or transcend.
In the darkness below again
wander an unholy trinity
of madness, blindness, stupidity.

Friday, April 16, 2010

I'm Late (Again)

I saw the rabbit jump down the hole
with his pocket watch in hand.
If you don't mind, I'll leave the chase
to the blond-haired girl this time.
I'm done with pursuing grains of sand
and temporary lines.