In the Dark

July 13, 2009
Seems like everyone who came to Jesus in the New Testament did so out in the open, in the streets for all to see.

Every head bowed,
     every eye closed;
confession is made
     to the All-Knowing Lord
who speaks everything
even to himself.

Now if the light is hid
on the hill
and no one's around,
does anyone hear
knees hitting the ground,
or the sound of the silent
prayer? Who cares
if you meant it or mean it,
as long as you come clean;
     it's really a personal thing.

But we're told
to drink of the cup
that's held
and passed around the company
of friends, of strangers, of
God knows who.

Why does anyone else need to know
my business, my religion?
We don't speak of these
at the table.

So I will
bow my head
and close my eyes
because when I do
you can't see me.

Remuneration

July 9, 2009


No one makes money writing poetry.
Well, someone eventually does gain:
a publisher, some critic, an estate—
someone.

But after you're dead
and can't come back
to defend or explain.

No, really. It was just
about a tree.

I was not on drugs
when I wrote that.

I was more perfectly sane
than at any other time in my life.

If you don't get it, don't worry.
I didn't write it for you.

Watching My Husband Dress

(to me from my wife)
July 1, 2009
I wrote this from Lynn's point of view. She said I nailed it.


I like to watch my husband
     dress for work;
everything is always done
     the same.

It starts when he's shaving.
I don't know why
but that just fascinates me.
Pulling the razor
over the curve of
his neck
with self assured movement
to the line of his beard
under his chin
scraping away the day-
old stubble.

When he tucks in his shirt
     zips his fly
               notches his belt
                              I hate him—
the notch has moved in.
I don't want him to lose
his Buddha belly. It's just big enough.

As he looks in the mirror,
adjusts his tie and
arranges himself,
he is so focused.
I feel that if I interfered
at any time
during this entire process
he would push me aside.

Purpose Driven Poetry

July 1, 2009


I want to write poetry that
               praises my God;
               rejoices in right,
               illuminates wrong;
               awakens the soul,
               revives the spirit,
               stirs emotions,
               challenges the mind,
               makes sense;
               breaks fallow ground,
               waters the barren soil,
               and grows;
               feeds the hungry,
               gives drink to the thirsty,
               uplifts the arms that hang;
               makes old men remember,
               young men desire,
               women weep;
               doesn't make sense;
               causes leaders of white-washed tomes
                              want to take me out and stone me,
               pisses off professors
                              of logic, and reason, and apologetics;
               pleases my God.
I want to write
poetry.

My Calling: God Spoke in the Shower

July 1, 2009


God spoke to me today
while I was in the shower
washing my hair.

Tell of my love.

I covered my head and my face
with my arms
and I wept.

David was a prophet.

A Postmodern Psalm

July 1, 2009


I will not dread global warming,
          For my God is the Intelligent Designer.
I will not panic over a world pandemic,
          For my God is the Great Physician.
I will not feel threatened by atomic attack,
          For my God is my Star Wars Defense.
I will not be terrified of nuclear winter,
          For my God is my Fallout Shelter.
I will not be held hostage by terrorists,
          For my God does not negotiate.
I will not be paralyzed by global recession,
          For my God is my Financial Advisor.
I will not be intimidated by any energy crisis,
          For my God is my Everlasting Fuel.

I'm Back

Well, it's been almost a year since my last post. I stopped because I was looking into sending some of this stuff I call writing to other publications. In my research it appeared that publishers were looking for previously unpublished material and that even an unheard of blog was considered publication. So I stopped. I just finished a Creative Writing course at Trident Tech and apparently that applies if you are attempting to be published on the web, cross markets (books, magazines) should not be a problem.

So, let's try this again.