I can always see the lost
when they're gone
out sweeping the plains for a reason the size of a needle
but answers are such slippery things I'm afraid
and questions,
they stick in your palms like the blades of something shattered
a piece of glass out on the beach
you might say
such expensive questions to have and hold
better to smash it into the bricks
feel the muscle of your shoulder moving with the energy of tension
cool air to hot, boiling eyes
a glittering cloud singing high and powdering little shards onto the side-walk like glitter
crack the colors and turn them over in your fragile fingertips
clench of fist to feel
just to feel
well i can do that
Monday, August 30, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Adam the namer
Adam, you namer of things
did i catch your jaw tightening like the fear of an animal that crouches to retreat
sharp muscled corner
as if your words give substance to otherwise ghosts of life
filling them with bones you fear you'll break
and blood you fear you'll spill
you arch backward and turn your steps to pacing
in hopes you'll not be called
to such permanence
Adam these things will live
and grow
and break the cement of your names
bleed they will but not for you as much for life
Adam the names
are for you
relax the mandible edge
and sing in words you've built
to the Maker who fills ghosts
did i catch your jaw tightening like the fear of an animal that crouches to retreat
sharp muscled corner
as if your words give substance to otherwise ghosts of life
filling them with bones you fear you'll break
and blood you fear you'll spill
you arch backward and turn your steps to pacing
in hopes you'll not be called
to such permanence
Adam these things will live
and grow
and break the cement of your names
bleed they will but not for you as much for life
Adam the names
are for you
relax the mandible edge
and sing in words you've built
to the Maker who fills ghosts
Friday, August 6, 2010
worn shoe
i see you there at the bottom of the barrel
jammed into weathered wood
shoulders squeezed tight into crooked shapes
bowing like a servant should
no one else saw you on muddied floors
tread into hardened soil
head so filled up with foreign storms
that the spine's afraid to uncoil
happy Friday, worn shoe
lace-less
from-less
face-less
jammed into weathered wood
shoulders squeezed tight into crooked shapes
bowing like a servant should
no one else saw you on muddied floors
tread into hardened soil
head so filled up with foreign storms
that the spine's afraid to uncoil
happy Friday, worn shoe
lace-less
from-less
face-less
Christ
how quiet am I?
in the back of your mind
in the corner of your eye?
How translucent is this flesh?
perhaps once hands and feet are pierced
and the spear has painted red the Holy ribs
perhaps then I will see You
when blood of sacrifice puddles on the floor to block my step
and the black, trembling sky serves witness to a Father's terrible sadness
then will I feel your terrible Love?
in the back of your mind
in the corner of your eye?
How translucent is this flesh?
perhaps once hands and feet are pierced
and the spear has painted red the Holy ribs
perhaps then I will see You
when blood of sacrifice puddles on the floor to block my step
and the black, trembling sky serves witness to a Father's terrible sadness
then will I feel your terrible Love?
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