Leftovers are a let-down.
Picking up the pieces
Of my broken heart.
Left not right,
Caught in the middle.
Ideologies and rumors,
Hearsay and politics.
Wondering what to do,
After it’s all been said and done.
Get out the bread and butter.
Stir up the soup of the day.
Mow the lawn and be happy.
Such an excuse to be gay.
Do you know the secret
To making peace in this time?
Mine is slowly seeping
Into a bed of roses.
A place to be
Is pleasing when
There is a person
To be with—
Someone strong,
Someone fun,
Someone loving—
Come get some!
In the park,
I toss a ball
With my father;
Spring and summer
Sunny weather
Covers our faces
With warmth and never
Makes us uncomfortable.
So, we go swimming
In the lake.
We ride a boat
Across the water.
We dive in and feel
Refreshed.
Oh, what a day
To be with family.
What a time
To dream dreams,
To enjoy each other’s
Company.
To live in the freedom
Paid in blood
By our forefathers,
And our military
Today.
Please remember
When you drink your beer
And eat your hot dog.
A price was paid.
We’re here to make,
And bake and create.
We’re here to move,
And soothe and groove.
We’re here to love
Everyone.
We’re here to have fun,
To play and run.
We’re here to make
Something out of nothing.
We’re here to create
Meaning.
We’re here to make
A mess.
We’re here to be a mess.
We’re here to be.
Happy go freaky,
Style for a mile.
Ambulance mind,
So fine.
Go fetch your dream,
Get to it!
Place your hands
On the balance beam
Of life expression,
And make your moves.
Chase that vision,
That holy mission,
For you alone.
Never turn back.
No regrets.
Sail on!
It’s a part of me,
My personality,
My sexuality,
Individuality.
I am unique,
The way God made me,
The way my parents raised me,
The things I’ve discovered
Along the bumpy way.
There’s no shame
In being this way—
Just because it was
Never mentioned in church,
Or school,
Or at home.
Even the basics
Were not taught.
Trial and error
Was my only way
To discover my body,
To find out
What it means
To be human.
To experiment
Inside and out,
To pop those bubbles
Of misconception,
Perversion of religion,
Crucifixion.
Life flowing from my heart
Is cut down by rivers of doubt.
The rushing water wears down
My early oaths and affirmations,
Slowing my faith to a halt.
My simple plan to ditch the man of the gospels,
Runs into blockades along the way.
Nests of love, peace and grace
Call me away from my solitary journey.
I sometimes fight the current,
Or allow myself to rest,
But naturally I am carried away
By the fantasies and delusions
Of my silly imagination.
With a battering ram strapped to my forehead,
I push through the glistening walls of the great cathedral.
But for what?
Has this victory won me anything of value?
After all, the war has already been won by my adversary,
And this stub in the toe is no big loss to him.
My screams in the darkness win me no favors,
Gain me no pity, although he may shed a tear.
Shall I continue to throw stones through stained glass windows,
Knowing I am only hurting those I love and who love me?
Whom am I fighting, anyway, if not myself?
Smile lack so sad smooth life is not that weep for the end is near the beginning is coming the satisfaction of all will be found on the mountaintop.
Close the door (the end is near) but don’t fear for god is here. Womb shallow river pour out on this congregation of ne’er do wells and corrupt citizenry and ghost town revelers.
So much to leave behind a simple backpack is all I carry a sack with no lunch nothing but a cup to fill with water when I can.
Can you find the ancient ruins beneath the supermarket? The burial ground under the rollercoaster? What’s new? I don’t have a clue.
I like endings. Beginnings, not so much. I like meandering and intoxicating and flurries on a cool night. I like rivers and hills and dead man’s curve.
Do you see the end coming? It’s near, I tell you! Really close but doubt comes closer and I believe in doubt. I like to humor doubters and double crossers and hooligans.
How many doubts does it take to make a faith? How many truths does it take to make a scripture? So many confusing sorts of dreams and all kinds of visions and stalactites and frosting.
I closed my eyes to the world,
For I could not bear another
Moment of its peril,
Persecution and sword.
All the fighting was too much
To take in each day,
The cruelty and carnage,
The swearing and insulting,
Turning heads to wrongs abounding.
So, my hope was hanging
In a precious balance.
Whether I could go on,
Was in doubt, for sure.
I decided to appeal
To my higher power,
The merciful God of Spirit,
Who had rescued my life from ruin.
Somehow, there must be possibility
For my present earth to reconcile
All this shambles of civilization,
A carcass of the creation
That existed so many years ago.
I prayed a solemn petition,
Asking Jesus for His grace,
A gentle dose of mercy
For this time and place.
And so I placed my trust
In the heaven above,
Shedding no more tears for the future.
I know it is in God’s hands,
And I believe that is enough.
Crimes unimaginable
Sins unfathomable
Wrongs not righted
With an apology,
A soft word,
Or the stroke of a pen.
Pain to the deepest parts
Of the heart and soul,
The very fiber of one’s being,
A wound that doesn’t heal,
But rather cuts deeper
With every smile,
Every handshake,
On every pay day,
Every trip to the grocery store,
Every night at mealtime,
When they look at their children,
When they look at ours.
Privilege continues
Despite the lip service,
Despite the promises,
Amidst the meager gifts,
The dregs of easy charity
From the tatters of a bursting purse,
The guilt trip laid on thick
To the middle class and even
The working poor.
Those that lack for food,
Clothing or shelter,
Living barely day to day,
Not knowing where one’s next
Meal will come from.
And at the church the preacher
Says try harder, pray more,
Save your dollars
So you can send your little ones
To a good college,
Make them study,
Keep them out of trouble,
Tell them you love them,
That you’re proud of them
For that report card.
What do you say
When the white kid
Calls them the n-word?
What do you say
When you don’t have a job
Because you refused
To kiss your supervisor’s butt
When he would talk to you
Like you were nothin’,
Just a cog in his machine,
A disposable, replaceable,
Optional, neglectable,
Insultable, disrespected,
Used, abused, tossed out
To the street
Like so much garbage,
Black man?
Stumbling along the sidewalk 