Monday, May 25, 2009

coming undone

cut me open and
dissect me
i asked
but didn’t count on the bleeding
and when you were done
you forgot
to sew me up

Sick

When she brushed her hand
on your arm
my heart went sick
that gesture
was meant in love
for me
I thought
so I thought.
go ahead and think
that she loves you
let her place her slick words
on your heart
and I will watch it
rend you
apart

Friday, May 15, 2009

arid

Life's a joke
I cease, give up
Arid places
Fill my cup

Brutal sand
that stings the eyes
can't see sun
can't see skies

Unless You tread
where I should go
My cup is dry
no overflow

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Hasn't Been

Hasn't been written
Hasn't been said
Hasn't been seen
Hasn't been read

He is blind
She is deaf
I am mute
immobile, left.

Hasn't been written
Who wants to read?

Hasn't been said
No hearing indeed

Hasn't been read
Happy are we

Except for the Author
the inkwell bleeds

Monday, March 16, 2009

Tulip

So tired...
as a tulip in June
that hasn’t slept for months
but stands up tall to please
and tease the rain
from
the
clouds...
At times the water flows
but often, it is dry.
Parched and lonely flower
still struggling to keep
her head up high.
So tired...
The time has come
to sleep.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Hour

The valleys will be raised
and the mountains made low
The path will be straight
to the place we must go
For no man is immune
to His might nor His power
prepare for the battle
its nearly the hour
When all shall look up
to the clouds where He comes
to the beat of my heart
to the pounding of drums
And all will be bared
no escape, nothing hidden
and whether one cares
he will do what he's bidden

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

snap of death

the mask of death
draws repentance from
hardened independents
with a cold stare
and a wink

pivoting psyche to
bloodcurdling realization
God exists!
Oh God
dear God...

unlike well-worn
grandpa-bear comfort
the eternity of
All-consuming Fire
bends and snaps
stiff-legged jeans
breaking
tear-soaked foundations

on death and life

Thick entangling vines
twisting, gripping, clutching,
brick by brick
deconstructing
fabric of soul

FEAR

Fridgid icicle spears
sharply growing down
piercing warm hope
freezing
paralyzing

FEAR

Thick smothering fog
choking black smoke
filling lungs
arresting heart
until breathing
stops

FEAR

Furnace, Heat, Flame
All consuming Fire
melting, breaking chains
breath of life
the Father reigns

FREEDOM

Monday, January 19, 2009

Oppression
is

Forcing soul down into the dirt
grinding hard 'neath the heel
attempting to destroy
completely any
last vestiges
of life

of hope
allowing not
independent thought
vile and free, to escape
and grip the day, have its say
murder of the human counterpart

Sunday, January 18, 2009

red drops

sweet sugar target berries
making perfect rounded scaries
whipping red drops at the centre
spraying syrup - spitting venter
dripping gooey messy sickness
leaving 'hind a trail of thickness
seeping scarring down the wall
tasted sweet until the fall

your place

You got it baby -
Pick up your face
off the floor

I said it baby -
behold now your place
say no more

Relive it baby -
leave your disgrace
by the door

Believe it baby -
No room in this place
for your lore

Just do it baby -
pick up the pace
that's the score

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Firm to raw in tiny space
did not see the danger sign
one moment well,
the next one hell
when suddenly we've crossed the line

But you don't see the crooked turn
the jagged downturn of my heart
no longer fine
no longer mine
dragging now, no key to start

Soon in time get up again
seeming no worse off, unwary
free, you've won
no damage done
but for the unseen scar I carry

Monday, January 12, 2009

the surface

Like a tap tap tapping lightly I tread
come, He says, it is weak, lift your head
Fear makes me heavy, the surface a thread
The eyes are like anchors, look up instead

I'm Peter, the waves fill me with dread
I'm Peter filled up on my daily bread
I'm Peter, without Him, I'd soon end up dead
I'm Peter, a rock, a deadweight unled

A lovesick Lover, for me He bled
come, He says, we will soon be wed
Hope makes me bouyant, Love makes me red
Eyes to the Saviour, swiftly I tread

Friday, January 9, 2009

Life with Empty Hands

Perhaps the purpose is to be at peace
driven along in the carriage with full knowledge
that the reigns belong not in your hands
but entirely in the possession of Another
stronger and kinder Soul

Your eyes and heart stayed on hope
as debris from deep explosions fly by
your head. Breathe deep, calm nerves.
Tears may stream and streak, vision
blurred and confusing, with

Seeming terrors on all sides, cliffs
and dragons, steep and breathing fire, and
the reigns belong not in your hands
but entirely in the possession of Another
wiser and mightier Soul