Sunday, July 23, 2006

Melted















it is the hottest summer on record

the concrete
sears
and
swells

I want some ice cream
she said sheepishly
long legs
bare feet and delicate toes
kissing the dashboard

pretty baby,
look at you
spoiling that baby already
he whispers
seductively
his hands rubbing her thigh

You know what that means,
right
my son gonna be black
as that chocolate

Or black as you
she teased and rolled her eyes

go get us some
rocky road
he'd told her
I'll wait right here

he was
laughing
dressed in a
clean crisp white
cabana shirt
and pants
which his mother
sent from the islands
sweat from
indian summer colored
shook
as the subwolfers blared

"trying ta catch me riding dirty...."

as she walks into the supermarket
she is enveloped in cool
she stands before the chill breath
of the freezer
forcing her to decide
wondering if she should get
georgia peach instead
yet she lets that thought go
and pays

Dressed in a short white
peasant skirt
and sweat
full swollen brown belly
peaking from under
her white t-shirt
reddish tinged
hair fried dorm the 105 degree heat
she exits
in front of the
Safeway
standing on the sun
her right foot
pointed south

upon existing
her skirt sticks to her skin
liquid white
she sees nothing
no suburban
no kealen
nothing except the flat ugly parking lot
full of people
swarming like flies around her

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Springtime

I lost my right breast today
no longer will it
feed
beckon
bloom
or wilt
It is faith interrupted
The casualty of a silent war
that treads heavily on my mind

I lost my right breast today
the doctors tried to save it
but it was too heavy
empty from feeding an unruly world
the yolk of peace
and axis of six nations that know my name
but not me

a monument
that no longer stands
yet still speaks


even when my face is glowing
and my arms are bronzed
and my smile is forgiving
like the bend of the dawn
I know the raven
is there, waiting


I lost my right breast today
the one they call faithful and true
the one that gives
to those who do not ask or appreciate
the one destroyed from within


I lost my right breast today
and yet
when I turn over in my sleep
as the heat creeps up my neck
as the sweat sneaks down my back
as my breath is labored with my past
burdened with the sheer weight
of the future
like my sheets

I reach for it
and feel it
and I know it never really went away

Return To Source

For the Children of Jacob

I step over mountains
and rivers beg to follow my feet
I speak--
oceans dancing with wrath stand still
en pointe

I am the changing seasons of the universe
raining gently like rose petals
my spirit green, wild, and lush
like the tropics

I sing in B flat
my voice a sand filled flask
my tone deep like a full bodied wine
and the sands of time still, and become
drunk with my light

I remember like the
wind
Though the eye knows not where it goes
it takes with it all it touches
and all it touches desire
to return to it's source

You ache for my presence
--a chilling beauty
leaving you longing
even in the sun

Bone of my bone
and flesh of my flesh
and yet even in your strongest moments
you are weak for me
and despite your protest, you know it.

In heaven to earth who is like me?
Who can wrestle with God and win?

Friday, July 14, 2006

The Smoke Tree








On the cusp of world war....



In the beginning
there was a word
and the word was
with God

The earth was formless and empty,
darkness was over the surface of the deep,
and the Spirit of God hovered over the waters
And God said,
"Let there be light,"
and there was light
God saw that the light was good,

and He separated the
light from the darkness

And the earth was green and lush.

Today, there is a tree
sitting on the axis of land of the six peoples
of mankind:

The people of the papyrus
The people of the olives
The people of the dry grass and juniper
The people of the date palm
The people of the fig
The people of the laurel

and the king of pecans from the land of fire

and yet despite the many branches, there is only one tree
that never blooms
it only bears leaves of red

Swirling
words
from heaven
huddled at the cusp
of morning and night

From afar comes the calvary
doing only as the Romans would, when in Rome
sojourning on
saris dipped in sulfer
swords of truth blazing
claiming in God they trust
and all others are sons of darkness

But if the light within us is darkness
how great must that darkness be?

And yes,
red leaves
will be falling

staining the foot of the soilder
on the road to Damascus
the conflict of our souls
the soul of our struggle

the wrath of
the merciful
loving
kind
patient
meek
righteous
God
springs
in deaf ears


In the end
There is a word
dressed in azure
and pitch
unveiling itself

the earth is formless and empty,
darkness is over the surface of the deep,

but the Spirit of God is hovering over the waters

And God says,
"Let there be light,"
and there was light.

And God sees that the light is good,
and He separates the
light from the darkness

the kingdom of of lilies prepares for bloom

Come out of her, my people
come out of her
the harvest is near
and leaves are turning red


“I would rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out there isn't, than live my life as if there isn't and die to find out there is.”
Albert Camus

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Coming out of Mourning

Poem:

Not
who
what
why
where
or when

not just us,
but them

he forgives,
not only for the given
but to the offered and for the refused

preserving integrity
in the sea of the perused and used

more than the verb
but the core of the word
splintered adjectives and nouns
stand still
as he moves

Chorus:
Lovely as a ray of sun,
that touches me when the
mourning comes
and it feels good
Lord you're so good

Beautiful as the bright blue sea
the way your love washes over me
and it feels good
Lord you're so good

It feels good
And it feels good
Lord you're so good

Verse One:

It feels good
Not the kind of feeling you get
when you got money in your hand
(Spoken: Like payday?)

It feels good
Not the kind of good you feel when
you're chillin' with your man
(Spoken:Uhh oh, now)

It feels good
Not the kind of feeling you get
when you got your nails and hair did
and you know you're looking fine
(Spoken: Well, you know how we do. I was looking good..)

It feels good
The kind of feeling that's soul appealing
When He says the battle's not yours, it's mine
Holy and divine!
(Spoken: Hey!)

Chorus:
Lovely as a ray of sun,
that touches me when the
mourning comes
and it feels good.

It feels good

Beautiful as the bright blue sea
the way it washes over me
Lord you're so good

It feels good
Not the kind of feeling you get
when you've been promoted on the job
(Spoken: Partner! Yeah, that could be good.)

It feels good
not the feeling you get
when your dreams are taking off
Spoken: You mean like this?)

It feels good
not the kind of feeling
you get when you see your child born
Spoken: She was so beautiful.)

It feels good
The feeling that you get
when you look back
and know who led you through your storm--
so you don't have to mourn!
(Spoken: Yes!)


Poem
in his absence
they mourn his rays
calling the world to wake

his hands bear the hate
her eyes believe the hope
and his seasons never fail

he washes the face
of fear
counter
clockwise
still knowing it has a time

the act
the stage
the soul of the star

in his true form, omnipresent

the sister to hope
the mother of faith
only as happy
as His saddest child

Verse Two:

Cause Lord you will be there
when the money's gone
when the dj plays the last song
when the man has packed his bags and gone
or through this life, passes on
you will be there when beauty fades
when I have no more tears to cry
Just like the little sparrow
I'm always in your eyes


Chorus:
Lovely as a ray of sun,
that touches me when the
mourning comes
and it feels good
Yes it feels good

Beautiful as the bright blue sea
the way the love washes over me
and it feels good
It feels good

It feels good
And it feels good
Lord you're so good

It feels good, good, good, good,
good, good, good,
good, good, good, good,

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Bearing All Things















Not
who
what
why
where
or when

not just us,
but them

he forgives,
not only for the given
but to the offered and for the refused

preserving integrity
in the sea of the perused and used

shhh.. it's a secret

more than the verb
but the core of the word
splintered adjectives and nouns
stand still
as he moves

he is the light on the dark face
of men who seek
their own salvation

in his absence
they mourn his rays
calling the world to wake

his hands bear the hate
her eyes believe the hope
and his seasons never fail

he washes the face
of fear
counter
clockwise
still knowing it has a time

he is
the act
the stage
the soul of the star

in his true form, omnipresent

the sister to hope
the mother of faith
only as happy
as the saddest child