Thursday, January 31, 2013

January 26

I want my fingers stained with my sin
My lips to carry my wicked soul
To live in the valley of the shadow of death
Your unfailing Love to know

I want my body to die
And die again
To rebel your purity
And seek out humanity
That I can know you love me

How far can my feet run
How long can my eyes see
Does the mind exist with the desire of a heart
Or will I die searching for freedom

January 23

Where is God
In the clusters of overfed offspring
Where is God
That his depth of being
Will not sever the shallow hearts of children
Where is God in me
That I feel his universal power
And cannot find him

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

The ground is all emeralds, topaz
Onyx roads glisten with ice
Crystalline teardrops hang solid
From every arm and leg
Of frozen brown bodies
Drooping with the weight of their sadness

The grey sky comforts
Even as the chill of the wind
Breaks on my face and hands
It looms over me like a lord
But a loving Lord

A silent black bird glides
Through the murky soft
Of sky
Not a sound
Not an echo of song
As its smooth ride down
Brings it ever closer
To the jewels of home

Tuesday, January 15, 2013


Shadow
Curled in the corner of a shelter
From light rain
Cold wind
Inhaling hot ashes
Poison of her bones
Alone

Shadow
Hunched out of sight
Away from public eye
Light creeps
Across billows of smoke
To the pupil of her eye
Where she finds hope
Alone

Shadow
Old
The soul of a shadow
Takes no form
Floats with the smoke
From burning lies
Exhaled in dull amusement
Alone

Sunday, January 13, 2013

I sat in the alley outside Heaven's door
Leaned against an emerald wall with four more
We were the castoffs of those waiting in line
Who gave pleasant glances and shuffled on by

I watched a man enter who wore ragged clothes
The angels all smiled with a charitable glow
A woman who hobbled, a child barely born
There were many who entered, so certainly the Lord's

I am the one who waits by the wall
I am the one the Lord long ago called
I will not enter Heaven with the souls of men
I will sit here and wait for the Lord to call me again

Saturday, January 12, 2013

There is no god of mine
Whom I will fall before and worship in a Heaven full of clone white souls
There is no god of mine
Whom I will serve with any passion while he rests gracefully on a throne
There is no god of mine
Whom I can love if I am not the sole possession of his eye
There is no god of mine
Whom I will love if he will not pursue me until the death of time


Wednesday, January 9, 2013

I don't think anyone can really know another on the deepest spiritual level. And to some degree, no one wants to.

I have been overwhelmed with loneliness these past weeks; I feel alone in this world. That the universe or God has somehow failed me.

As humans, we fail each other. We always fail each other. No one can satisfy the needs of others. And if no one can, then why should we dwell on resentment? Wouldn't it be far better to focus myself on the needs of others? If I feel failed by someone, it doesn't give me any special right to fail others. It doesn't even give me true cause to feel failed, if we are all being human. No grudges, no resentment, no failure. There is only to press on and do what I can for those around me, and those I meet along the way through life.

We are broken people who fail one another. I am a broken person who is meant to fail others. How can anyone blame anyone else for being human?


Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Unique
Is to be well-educated in words

Different
Is a subscription to daily life

The enigma of being
Is the enigma of a man's heart

To venture
Means nothing without words

These are the truths of love
Love is the truth of lies


I

Feel alone
In others' company
In solitude
Feel alone

Ambition is my ally
I feel alone

Feel alone
In my hollow chest
Deep with emptiness
Feel alone

Passion feels neglected
I feel alone

Feel alone
Like cedar in the dresser
Pine away in my cellar
Feel alone

The world awaits
I feel alone


Monday, January 7, 2013

Adalia

Adalia will die. She will die of old age while I am still young, or I will watch her die tragically, or find her body in the woods or in the street. As a child, I watched my father die. My siblings grew up, married, left home. The only man I've really loved is gone. I will never see him again. My friends are gone, most off at school. Everyone leaves, or dies.

Adalia will die. By getting a dog I set everything in order to be heartbroken again. I will mourn her death some day down the road. I will remember the ordinary nights such as this when she wandered around the bedroom, pulling my sweater out of her kennel to tug at its corners, then chasing her tail furiously around in circles, and finally hopping up on my bed where she plops down in my lap making it very difficult to type. These are the nights I will cry over when she is gone.

I didn't need a dog. I got her to help me cope with a very traumatic event, important, but I only cried out for a puppy when I saw a rabbit outside my window and wished desperately that I had some small animal to clutch tightly, to love. I found Adalia. And I love her so very much.

Her fur is a golden shade of brown, with black accents around her ears, neck, and tail. The very tip of her tail is white; her paws and chest are white, and she has a crooked white stripe that runs from her nose up to her forehead. She's smart. Too smart for her own good. She looks at me when I talk as if she understands every word I'm saying, and also as though she doesn't give much of a damn. Unless I'm holding a sausage treat. But she is sweet. When I come home from work and let her off the outside leash or out from her kennel, she flies around mad, torpedoing into my body with enough force it almost knocks me over. After she calms down, I rub her backside and ears. She'll sit on the floor with her little paws spread out underneath her belly and let me hold her just as long as I like. And when she sleeps with me she sprawls out between my legs so that I can barely move during the night. It often wakes me up as I sometimes get uncomfortable. But I look down and she's just as happily asleep as can be.

In her stubbornness, Adalia has outraged me. When she was ill, I was never before more worried about anything. When she snuggles up to me on the bed, I cannot be more happy and at peace. I love her.

And yet I think. . .

When she dies, will I wish she were never mine? Will the heartache be too much to bear? She is my closest friend these days. She is often the only living thing who is with me. Sometimes I think she's all I have. But, she too will die. She too will leave me. And what will I do then. . .




Total ruination
Seeking absolute destruction
Needing to find redemption
In the depths of this well
This cavern
Deep with tired waters
Rushing aimlessly through my body

And if I find the end of hope
The road where outcast souls do go
And He is not there
Then my efforts were not in vain
Merely, Truth prevailed


Sunday, January 6, 2013

To guard the fortress of a soul
Requires no walls
But to be cold

To free from prison the mind
Requires not imagination
But a clear line

Sit on the barge outside of Heaven's City
Look onward at the gold of God's fingers
Do not sigh as you smoke his pipe
Let the silence of the moment linger


Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Lonely soul
Climb the mountain
Sit atop with hot tea and mention --
You're far too concerned
With the musings of the World
To take notice of this lonely soul
To find a whisper for this listener