Monday, December 2, 2013

Return to Poetry

And when we return to poetry
Will the lyrical voices rise
To the occasion or sink
In the cynicism of a wonderless world
Because our hymns are no longer holy
And our praises lack a center
When we return to beauty
Will the artists forget their brushstrokes
And will the paint continually
Drip continual streaks of anger and apostasy
When we hold out our hands for bread
Will we receive a scorpion?

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Call of the Wild

I was not thinking of you
At the sink where my foot itched
And I lost track of my work
I was thinking of the call of the wild
And how dogs can’t hear it nowadays
Because the sirens are too loud
Also my foot was itchy
Perhaps it had found the mosquito
That kept my mother awake two nights in a row
Perhaps it had found other denizens
Of my bedroom walls that once held you in sleep
Only I didn’t want to think of that
And maybe the call of the wild is overrated
The adventure perhaps is learning to love
And to be loved
And maybe making a civilization
Is truly the frontier
In thinking of not thinking of you
You swam to the front of my brain
I had to blink to hold you in
To realize the adventure of you
The wild calls
And I have grown more serious

Thursday, September 12, 2013


We look, I said, in love
I said, look, we look really in love
I said the day the wind whistled
And the sand sung in biting notes
Against my legs climbing
Laborious after your legs
We look really in love, I said
You said, that is convenient, you said
That’s very convenient
And what about you, once again
Your voice as warm and strong
As your body holding me
Out of the stinging sands
Taking the lash upon your own back
What about your hands being so large
And this token so small and significant
What about this moment?
What about forever?
And I was wrong when
I didn’t think I would cry
But you are windswept, warm, and wild
And bravely contained in this man
This hand
This token
This day
I said, yes, I said

Monday, July 8, 2013


I’ve forgotten the Christ in me
That words are droplets of blessings
If spoken in due season
That love can be communicated
Through talk of God
Instead I might say
That was a great sermon
And then quickly change the subject
I’ve left behind the reason
For not forsaking the gathering together
Lost the gospel in the gossip
And The Word in the words

   Written in response to a post from the Gospel Coalition that took Christians to task for not using fellowship time to really dig in deep with the sermon and with each other. 

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Contemporary Crap Museum

Yet how would you fare if I told you how I really felt
As I pasted feather upon evasion upon feather
And if I told you, boy-wonder of the art world
That what you work for means nothing
When it is called art to string together empty words
And beat a drum, naked
And all of the bared bodies from which I’ve averted my gaze
How can I tell you everything here is stupid?
When you look so hopeful in the face of this hopelessness
I could probably light this place on fire
And have more impact for Truth and Beauty
Than this whole museum
Instead I mumble half statements
And hot glue glass pebbles to cardboard
The fun of playing at the craft table
Is almost worth my four dollars, but
I regret the one I donated

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

I Shall Die of Having Lived – A Book Poem

Death Comes for the Archbishop

To live! To live! exist be damned
To dwell inside the great I Am
So at the end of life you may
Say I have lived my life away
To view the past with little shame
And see your friendships just the same
To understand your trial here
As fire refining, making pure
So at the end of life you may
Know that you’ve lived your life away

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Writing Prompt: Use These Three Words: Mint, Spare Change, and Confetti

     Please resist pointing out that "spare change" is two words. I already know this, and I didn't make up the prompt. I did; however, create something incredibly ridiculous out of it:

     “Hey do you have any spare change?” I turned to see an earnest young androgynous face peering out from under an overlarge hood. I muttered something about not carrying cash and began to walk away. “How about a mint?” I stopped in the midst of my escape. “A mint?” I asked.
“Yeah, see, I’m going to this interview downtown and I was told to bring a mint, some spare change, and some confetti.”
     I raised a brow. “I don’t believe you,” I said peering deep into the hood. “Why would your future employer ask you to bring confetti to an interview?”
     The face in the hood looked down at the sidewalk for a while, “I’m trying to be a magician,” he muttered. I must have continued looking skeptical because he came a little closer and whispered, “I feel like I’m David Copperfield reincarnated.” I didn’t object by saying David Copperfield was still very much alive. I frankly thought this young person was a little out of his mind. I decided to strike what I felt was a good balance and handed the young man some confetti in a little baggie. I was on my way to clown class and happened to have an extra bag in my pocket.
     His face lit up. “Hey thanks!” he said, “No one ever has confetti these days.”
“It’s hard to come by,” I said, “use it well.”
     He stared at me for a long time, too long I felt. “Why do you have this?” he said in a tone that conveyed that he trusted me about as far as he could throw me. “Listen, kid,” I said, “in times like these it is best to count your blessings and not look a gift horse in the mouth.” As soon as I used the old fashioned catch phrases I knew that if the kid was working as a free lance sniffer, he’d be onto me. There was a tense moment where we both sized each other up, but eventually the kid pocketed the bag of confetti and nodded slowly. I nodded back and he turned and walked down the street, hunched up against the cold protected by that ludicrously big coat.
     As he walked away I felt a little nervous. What if I’d given my confetti to a complete stranger who was just going to squander it? Lately the Anti-Entertainment industry had been cracking down pretty hard on confetti users. It wasn’t illegal yet, but you could still face severe ostracizing if you used it in front of the wrong people. Clowning wasn’t easy. I had already lost one apartment lease over it. My landlady tried to say it was because she saw me smoking inside, but I knew better. Plus, the kid could have been an agent, and I wouldn’t even know until I was suddenly struck from behind and arrested for some trumped up charge. I could not handle that in front of my co-workers. Especially Peanuts. That guy was such a jerk.
     I kicked at a puddle and immediately regretted it as the cold water seeped through my mesh tennis shoe. It was going to be a long day.