The Same

Dark clouds rolling around
Dancing, swirling with the sound
Thin and sudden strips of light
Thick, deliberate drops of night

Faster beating, shorter breathing
Eyes like oceans, heart is steaming
Knuckles raw and war-torn
Words that pierce, a stream of scorn

Lids lock at once to hide the gloom
Thoughts unspoken fill the room
Mind fizzles, shortened fuse
Collects itself within the muse

The lull itself will wallow in
Until the shades are drawn again
At that moment godsent dawn
Reveals the dark, once there, is gone

Golden morning streams on through
Making mirrors of the dew
A fragrant breeze like baby's breath
Cancels any thoughts of death

Fresh windows to the soul are dry
Lungs expand, collapse in sigh
Furnace within has been removed
Tired mouth and mind are soothed

Mind will choose, body will follow
Heart will either fill or hollow
Come upon Earth wind, sleet, and flame
The Sun will rise and set the same

I'm in a box trying to make my way out but my skin is made of velcro and the box is too. I am a baby duck on a loose carousel baby merry go round and round is off the track and there's no turning back cause we've dropped all we had and there's no pick-upskies. Flying man flying man, write me a song. I wish we had a song. I wish our lips had never met cause then they wouldn't be upset.

Make Space

Two different colors embark on me now.

Just cradle me
and rock me
like you did before.
Like you always have.

This will swirl around in my mind
the next progression of days
while the smell of whats blooming
creeps in the air.
And the mix will be the death of death.

Tell it like it is
and you won't regret the
last time you lied
anymore.

More peace is to be had
but not yet.
There are no words for what comes next
so Ill have to say it

in

the

spaces.

There are heartaches in the endings
but we all reap what we sow.
And if we never let things die,
others never fully grow.

On that day.

Being that there are handfuls of Heaven
in everything from the way the light
shines through the front window
to the balloon that was let go before,
one might think more doves would settle down.

But there are too many sets of silverware here
and too few reasons to need silverware there-
leaving everyone either lonely or hungry.
Some are both,
and none are neither.
Doves don't just settle down
where there are lonely, hungry people.

Maybe the key to this dilemma is a pairing
of these two unfortunate tribes:
Lonely could bring over the food that he's got
and Hungry could provide the company.

It's a shame that none would act
upon such principles.
But it's just so awfully hard to think of others
when your stomach is empty
or you're missing your brothers.

Someday, though, such a rendezvous will ensue:
A day come at last
when Hungry can forget his stomach
and Lonely can push aside his yearnings-
That each might willingly exist
only for the sake of the other.

And on that day
the doves will sigh,
close their beady eyes,
and rest at last.

Remain.

I am spring turning summer or the fall turning cold.
I am the difference between the young and the old.
I am the rings of a tree, every year multiplying.
I am the not yet success when you are still trying.
I am the time in between the lightning and thunder.
I am the seconds it takes to recover from blunder.
I am page twenty-five of a very long book.
I am between the first glance and the vows that they took.
I am the threat of a plan that's about to unravel.
I am the biting of nails before the bang of the gavel.
I am the breath in your lungs while you're still underwater.
I am the roadtrip you take to go visit your father.
I am calming a child before the whimpers are gone.
I am the whole night while you're wishing for dawn.
I am a manicure that has not fully dried.
I am the terminally ill before they have died.
I am the bridge that's before your favorite part of the song.

I am Waiting...



and have been for so long.

Partly body, mostly soul

From the cradle to the grave

Every day and every trial
I'll exist within my body
It has been with me a while

The bones within me know no purpose
But to steady this mere frame
And my blood, it swims right through me
But it doesn't know my name

My teeth don't really feed me
Though they take what they can find
And if my eyes could see no longer
Well, I doubt they'd even mind

My lips will work together
In order that you hear
All the thoughts I have within me
That they don't know I hold dear

These other vessels for conversing
Will let me hear when there is rain
And they will let in many words
But they will never feel their pain

My fingers do as I command them
So as to grasp the world at hand

And my legs don't choose my goings,

They just run, walk, kick, and stand

Yes, my skin is back to dust

After it plays its earthly role

So I praise the God who made me

Partly body, mostly soul

Mending

Griping for lack of miracles is erroneous. A demand for tangible promises is foolishness. Training for a softer sooner is ridiculous. Life incognizant of death is recklessness. I am not a body with a soul. I am a soul with a body. No rough-housing, no horse-play says my soul to my skin which is quivering in awe and fear and shame. Such feelings are understandable. My skin's days are numbered, after all.



* Started in Sept. 2008. The idea then turned into "Partly body, mostly soul."
"Mending" was finished, titled, & posted on 2.18.09.