salty

Words pour out of me like
Salt
Sometimes they land on your tongue
Sometimes they land on your wounds

Everytime, I am sorry
For not making them sweeter.


You deserve graceful words that
Wash over you like water.
I will try harder, I will try.

wax sculpture

If I could tear out my heart and give it to you

I would, for a heart is too great a treasure to entrust to this body of wax. 

I melt to all forms of malicious enticement and my hands shake as I pour myself out on foreign altars. 

And again you say you are sufficient, and again you say do not fear. 

So I bandage up my dripping body and I praise you for the strength to be new. 

You bless me beyond all measure and I fall on my soft knees, 

I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  

Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 

If ever I could tear out my heart and give it to you, I would. 

Because you deserve everything I am. 

Oh Lord my God, how great thou art. 

Rewriting Shakespeare (as free verse)

Sonnet 18 Redux

I cannot compare you to a summer day, my love.
You are far more beautiful and your smile more warm:
for the anger of the wind tears at the heart of May,
and summer’s four month lease leaves her homeless every year.
I am claustrophobic in August’s heat,
and even the freedom of thunderstorms is terrifying.
Everything beautiful occasionally fades,
begging for a few moments of break from long shifts.
But your loveliness, my dear, is untiring,
you will never lose your electricity of spirit,
the eyes of the afterlife will never follow you down the street.
In these meager lines, when time tries to swallow you whole,

you will live as long as men breathe, as eyes see,
as long as this poem exists, darling, so do you.



Sonnet 116 Redux

There can be no objection to true love.
Issue can only be found if the love
changes when it finds that the object of its affections has changed.
If there is an attempt to change the mind of love
and it is changed, there is no love.
Love is the steadiest of headlights,
the perfectly aligned markers on the edge of the runway,
guiding every plane through fog and storm.
Love may be known but it cannot be measured.
Time cannot shift honest love, even should a child experience it;
it is not a different love. Though it be born
of a brief and innocent life, it will last the apocalypse.

If this love is a lie, if every love dies,
I have never written, nor have I loved.

#stoptheworry2k15

"Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"

Who of you has the power to control what happens in a single
day
hour
year?

Who of you has the power to control how people react to what you
do
say
feel?

We are absolutely powerless, we have control of nothing, and nothing is assured. The Maker and Master of the universe loves us infinitely and controls it all. Worrying has power to do nothing but  paralyze us into inaction. Therefore, "do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Then the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

little things

I am the most thankful in the littlest things.

The white wall that reflects the sunshine perfectly
at 3:01 in the afternoon makes me feel nothing but
its warmth for just a moment and I am
the most thankful then.

The breeze today is a little warmer than it was
yesterday and my lungs appreciate the break
from the onset of winter and I am
the most thankful then.

I have tried and tried and tried again to sweep up
the dry and dead leaves into a pile with my feet;
all they do is crunch but I am
the most thankful then.

When the flicker of streetlights outside makes the evening
blink like a Christmas tree sewn with stars,
I see it all through my window and I am
the most thankful then.

When the eternal God shows Himself through the cracks
in my tiny twisting temporal universe,
I fall on my face and I am
the most thankful then.

honey leaves

I'm never prouder of my honey brown eyes than when I see their color reflected, pooling in the leaves and winds of autumn.

loss (in class assignment)

It's like breathing with one lung or trying to tie your shoes after drinking enough coffee to send you into a tumbling mess. It's like feeling everything at once or nothing at all because no matter if you spit the loss or swallow, you still chew in between. Loss gets stuck on your teeth like popcorn kernels or the skin of an apple and it doesn't leave unless you floss and oh, you always bleed, darling. It's like nothing you will ever feel again because loss is unique like the pair of shoes you found at the thrift shop and wore down until you tripped because the heel tore open and you bled- love, you will always, always bleed.

Time heals all wounds and stops all bleeding, but sometimes the bones don't set right.

good God thoughts

I am so, so slow to listen.
I hear God in pieces;
140 characters only, please.
God of the universe made to fit my needs,
I have other things to attend.

"God is love"
okay that's all I want to hear
today that's all I want to know
that's all I want to focus on;
the bigger He gets the smaller I feel.

I don't well like feeling small.

You have infinity in your mind
as a small dose of entirety,
and all I want to hear is
what to say next.
Lord, forgive my simplicity.

Let me trust that what you are doing is good.
Let me listen for longer than 140 characters.
Let my focus grow.

Feeling small is a tiny price to pay for a connection with you.

allergy season

I am allergic to anxiety

When I breathe it in. 

My lungs swell up 

They press on my stomach;

It raises an acidic protest. 

I've tried to stop breathing

But irrationality fighting irrationality 

Only breeds frustration. 

Dear Lord, 

Only you can heal me. 

apology to the wind

You howl at me, angry that I have turned my back and not run away away away with you when you called. I tell you, "Maybe next time" but you know that isn't true either. You know I will never run away with you, you know that my roaring spirit is chained inside a mortal body that cannot quite fly like you. Stop whistling outside my window, I cannot come.

You are often cruel and cold and you know I could never be with someone like that. You could never truly love me. However, I love the wilderness in your eyes and the shivers you send down my spine. I will always love you. 

Please (never) stop calling to me. 

swim swim swim

If we stop moving in a new direction,
we will sink to the bottom of the tank
like a lazy shark,
unable to keep our eyes open.

If we stop creating,
our hearts will slack off
and cease to ever skip a beat,
unable to experience joy.

To create is to be like the creator,
but if we halt our own progress
we defy our own nature
and our nature defies us.

Just keep swimming.

sleep disruption

Sometimes in the process of keeping me warm, the pop in the water in the radiator stirs me from the quiet of sleep. 

Sometimes in the process of keeping me safe, a fire alarm goes off in the distance and disturbs my perfect slumber. 

Sometimes the love of the Lord does what is best for me while removing me from a good place, and it is well with my soul. 

song of praise

The smell of fresh baked morning air wafts into my bedroom and bounces off the white walls as I breathe it in; my lungs explode with light. The paintings on my walls watch while I am transformed daily into a new being. Every time I blink my eyes I see now as if I am someone else; I am new. You have made me new, and I am so glad. 

homeless man

You can't make homes out of people.

If you rip apart their bones
(To build a house)
Their skin will sag and
Muscles collapse.

You can't live inside of a person-
Their lungs' capacity
For air
Would be greatly lessened by
Your campfire.

If you live inside her
For safety
The stretch marks will be
All she remembers
When your warmth and light
Are gone.

People aren't homes,
We just don't grow that way.

autumn travel

I love seeing mountains on which the clouds lazily leave listing shadows. 

describing the sky

I have been trying

To fit the sky

Into my mouth

For the longest time. 

The colors drip 

From my lips

Like honey;

My cheeks filling

With the sweetness 

Of the clouds. 

But I cannot begin

To fit the sky

Into my mouth,

And it is far too vast to swallow. 

Perhaps I can breathe it in

To my lungs instead. 

damnit

I've been falling for a long

Long 

Time. 

I finally hit the ground, just now,

Just over here. 

Pieces of my skull lie

Around me. 

Some of them are shaped like

Hearts and

Lungs and

Brains and

Isn't that funny? 

I wonder why I don't collect them. 

Why can I not 

Will my legs to move so when I 

Pick them up maybe

They'll become a body again. 

I lie on the sidewalk and 

Roll my eyes at 

the people 

Passing by. 

They'll notice the blood on their

Shoes 

Only enough to be disgusted. 

I try so hard not to be

Inconvenient. 

Damnit. 

If only I could move. 

i have never breathed

I have never breathed before tonight;
The breath of the earth soothes my throbbing lungs.
The spinning world smashes through the universe
and I with it, dumbfounded, a useless tongue.

My insides feel vast, a passing match for the sky.
I think they may even be black, black as the back
of the throat of the man that has the world in his mouth.
He must have been there for ages, for ages past.

To live with the stars would be paradise;
A dream of a life in the loam never won anyone.
I believe that the trees understand better than we,
they recycle our breath as we ask questions.

heat haiku

All day long I have
been frying like a hot pan.
Bacon with regrets.

I should not have worn jeans today.

heartbreak

If I tear my life down

Around my ears

And I sit in the rubble 

And I mourn

Alone

Empty 

Will you fill me again? 

There is much heartbreak in this world 

And I begin to believe 

That I have chosen for myself

More than my fair share

I am alone

Empty 

Will you fill me again? 

If my ashes are the only acceptable sacrifice, please let me burn down. 

wanderer

I feel it sometimes- the spirit of the wanderer.
It pulls the cloak of the wind around my heart and tickles him with rustling leaves.

"C o m e," said with a voice like a brook at midnight, chill, clear, pushing through other sounds to still them.

The trees outside my window are dancing, wondering why their boughs do not make the sound of violins as they rub together. They imagine a tune in a minor key, sad, very sad, but it is not their song. It is the song of the spirit of the wanderer, not sad in heart but sad to be melodramatic as it goes, calling those called first to it.

The spirit of the wanderer looks like an autumn leaf, dying but not dead. I do not know why, for it feels like the promise of life. The spirit is what makes the nights grow cold, for it cannot stand to be under the blazing sun. The blazing sun has power to make the wanderer shrivel and die under its glaring eye, but the warm summer nights invite him to move through the woods, hushed, taking in what he can and leaving the rest for another night, another flight.

In fancy, my heart leaves its chest a thousand times to join the spirit. He follows through dells and caves and into holes in the ground where he spends his nights without me. He lives in trees to keep away from danger and he drips my blood onto the ground in strange foreign lands for me to find again someday.

And then I turn over, I am asleep. The spirit of the wanderer still knocks on my window pane, still my heart yearns to follow, but I cannot tell. I am asleep, but I feel it sometimes.

a lesson

I cannot live for others, tempting and right though it may sound. 

I must live for the Lord, and He will balance my own needs with those of others to keep me on the right path. 

There is a way (or there are many) that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death. -Proverbs

no promises

I am not promised tomorrow

   As time sails over the sea,

Sometimes off of the laughing boat

   He pushes you or me.

I am not tomorrow's child,

   But as a child of the king,

While I sink toward eternity,

   I sing and I sing and I sing. 

the summer song

In the summertime I sleep
with the fan on,
but I still sleep alone.
I tuck my pillow in beside me
while the reverse silhouette
of the moon
lies like an imaginary darling
across my face.

riding lessons

Just call me bedtime jockey, cause my nights have all become nightmares 

scaffolding thought patterns

you carry my heart with you (you carry it in your heart) 

whatever i have is yours 

all that i am is yours, my lord and my God

whatever i do is done only by your hand 

you have made the stars

and the heart of the sea is in my chest 

you have given us both 

restlessness and peace 

whatever a song has always meant

the music of the heavens

and the melody among the leaves

all is yours and mine

because of your great love 

oh my God 

you carry my heart (you carry it in your heart) 

the glow and the stretch

There are daisies
in my veins
the stems stretch to my fingertips
the leaves flow into my hair
the petals in my eyes
are among the brightest on earth.

The breath
in my lungs
is the north wind
the south wind
the east and the west wind
restlessly pressing in and out.

You can see them
consuming young me
the flowers
the winds
the shattering lights
the glow and the stretch.

But when you cannot
when time has withered
who will see
who will admire
will I alone
feel the depth of their root?

I hope that when I am old, the footprints of those I have changed shape the wrinkles around my eyes.

(break through)

Nighttime is depressing like 

Fear feeds off of

Darkness feeds off of

Anxiety feeds off of

Shadow feeds off of 

My own heart 

Reflected back at me 

It is darker than I thought. 

It is always darker than I thought. 

(Please break through to me) 

mornings

While sitting at breakfast, I am overwhelmed by the thoughts of the day. They sweep through my mind like the armies of the Huns, leaving no peace unharmed. I am small. I wish I were a bird, floating peacefully on the ocean. I wish I were a fox, trotting stealthily through deep woods. I long to be a cloud, serene though short lived. I sigh, and I drink my milk. 

sleep timer

The TV shuts off and
The darkness collapses into me

Or I collapse into it
I don't know
I float in the darkness

Down

   Down

       Down

            Down

The soft waves hold me
Until the pressure crushes my chest
Into sleep
I awake again

With a gasp

Ice Over

And the sun stretches out like a big lazy dog over the landscape, turning to scratch its ear with the clouds before it settles again for its afternoon nap on the hills. 

With encouragement like this, I want to color the walls of my little white prison until they collapse with the weight of the wax from my crayons and release me to ride on the back of the sun dog. 

And when I escape, the sunshine in my eyes will be refilled by the One who put it there. I will breathe in the rays of crisp air and breathe out glittering shards of the same, I will hunt the clouds and feast on their cotton candy flesh. 

May my dreams never ice over. 

Onward

Like the roll of the drum 

Is marching on 

Without a reason

Without the sun. 

Like the blast of trumpets

Is living

Without a feeling

Without giving. 

Shattering into 

Fragments too small

The world too tall

Loneliness 

Is an unforgiving conductor. 

Heartbeat ringtone

The veins in my arms

Have been ripped out

One by one

My butterfly heart

Had his wings plucked off

And now he rolls 

Everywhere. 

I don't fly anymore. 

Flights of fancy 

have been canceled, 

And all unnecessary smiles

Nixed. 

I wake up with an anvil 

On my chest,

And I put it into my bag

Just so that I can carry on. 

I feel like a zombie 

In living skin

Very confused,

Because zombies are used 

to being dead;

I don't know where this life comes from.  

Somehow even without my veins

my heart is beating. 

nursery rhyme

Fire, fire, burning bright, 

Oh how lovely is your light

Spinning, dancing, fleet of foot,

Everywhere you go is soot. 

Heated elfin flame so brave,

I cannot make you to behave. 

You are burning in my soul

All too content to make a hole. 

Burning up my steaming heart,

You alternate to do your part

Pangs of pleasure, pangs of pain, 

Sometimes sun and sometimes rain,

Fire, fire, burning bright, 

Oh how lovely is your light. 

 

Rainy worries

Worrying 

Spinning down

Like a raindrop

Flurrying down 

More like a paindrop

Sliding backwards down a mountain of

Dew and do nots

Hurrying down

Destiny never more uncertain

Rushing down

With the others also unsure

Of where down

Will take them

And we all fall down together

Can we ever rise again

Worrysaur

I miss what is past 

and the future scares me 

and the what ifs engulf my spine 

and I sit here 

and wait to grow scales to go with 

my spiky backbone of worries and fears 

that keeps me from sitting down comfortably