Like the well worn seat
in my old, hard driven, car,
molded, thus, by many miles
this nostalgic ache
dwelling here, where grief once lived
is my new life’s companion.
grace
Snow Day Exodus
Exodus Chapter 2 Verse 1-5
- And lo, ye shall encounter many more obstacles
- And try as thee might, the locust wood shall not succumb to thy saw.
- Thou heavest mightily against the bough and yet it remaineth obdurate and immobile before thine efforts
- And yet, brother, despair not, for thou hast a dutiful village
- And the Lord hath endowed them with the power of the mighty Kubota.
UN-AMERICAN? EXCUSE ME?
Though we disagree
About this country’s problems
And about the solutions
We both remain patriots!
Sans Sorrow
It’s really simple.
Why can they not understand?
This parting is purely sweet.
Savage Waters
This disease leaves wounds,
rivers both wide and deep.
Too deep for fording
and much too wide for bridges,
so we build ferries
and brave treacherous waters,
holding connections
to our loved ones long estranged
by these savage waters wide.
Charity or Wisdom
Listen Up, you grey old goat!
Your racist ways are history.
Does that hate not sere your throat?
That grossly overt bigotry
never fails to offend
younger,
compassionate,
thoughtful men.
But since we’re here within this lodge,
I’ll try to muster up some grace,
abide the precepts of wiser men
and curb my urge to pulp your face.
I’ll maintain regard unconditional
despite your beliefs, so unlovable.
A Matins Prayer
Must there be drama
to christen every morning?
Can’t we vow and endeavor
to enjoy a silent dawn?
Ode To Becky Griffith
It is often true
Seventh grade is rarely fun.
Hormones run amok!
Feeling like a mindless hun.
What’s a guy to do
Lest his teacher, by good luck,
Deftly makes the learning fun?
I’m Not Lost
Damned Evangelists!
In their feverish belief
Casting jagged stones
With their polished rhetoric
Cluttering the path
With traps and pitfalls and snares.
Though I wander, I’M NOT LOST!
Peace in Flight
On this frigid morning,
I don’t even have to try,
To find the face of Buddha
Scrawled across the ice blue sky.
Lidded eyes in quiet contentment,
A ghostly Mona Lisa smile,
Lingers there in frozen heaven,
Visible, for many a mile.
An offered peaceful benediction
To morning travelers on the fly,
Writ on the vault, without intent,
By other travelers flying by.
Nurtured Fire
This flame,
Too brief to harbor malice
Once the past
Has passed redemption.
Seething fury
Consumes the fuel
Better spent
In loving glow.
Forgiveness is
Not a mercy
Bestowed upon
The source of pain,
Rather more
A granted favor
To ourselves
To love again.
So please forgive,
Not for the other,
But for yourself
And grace attained.
Existential Questions
Could the real truth be
That everyone is searching,
Looking for meaning,
Filling our lives with purpose,
To repel the coming night?
~~~~
And does it matter
If it’s fear that propels us
To seek a higher
Purpose if we use that drive
To serve not just ourselves?
On Faithless Actors
Televangelists
act not on the Acts they preach;
commit simony
Inquisitive Hours
Sure I had it all
figured out before compline,
I awoke at lauds
to a dawning ignorance
supplanting solid
gospel canons with questions
enough to mull ’til vespers.
Aroil in Pain 