Thursday, September 30, 2010

Horror Movie--poem

There are shards in my eyes from watching the past
the movie’s not the best but it likes to play
I can’t tell if the glass still rests
or if scars replaced the spaces where
windows of innocence broke,
exploded, embedded in my lens
I try to watch the future
with this speckled movie screen
but darkness stains the sun
trying to purify my tomorrow’s
the water’s coming in—it’s just the
tide of my tears—
they’ll drain away soon
but until then
they flood and erase the
infection of the shards
so I can’t tell they’re there
for an intermission sublime
are they scars? are they shards?
for I’m only seeing black
and not bleeding from the
wreckage in my past’s climax
where’s the end—the finale?
This can’t be a saga
or I’ll go blind from finding
to make the screen blank.

Monday, September 20, 2010


I don’t know what I’m looking for—
it’s hard to say, in the dark
until I see lights at the end of some tunnel that I’m searching for
searching for the opening to a brighter future
where grounded certainty melts into anti-gravity belief
in something bigger, something cliché but so much better
than that written stuff in
library books
and verses from a man who claims to speak
the Truths of
whomever reigns within and outside of this place called
Human existence

He? She? It?
all too contrite—
there’s something brewing inside me,
waiting to find the light
that glistens on the feathers of His wings and Her wings and theirs
beating in the sun-ray magic of whenever-o’clock to shine upon me
when a smile hits my face or anger thrusts out between my teeth
and clenches my heart in its fist
or drowns my eyes in acid tears from the times when I forgot
what it means to breathe Your Love

I’m in your tunnel, your realm of mystery that you dubbed
with all the love you could muster and inject into beings
that sometimes look a stranger to your vision of what
we could be
I’m in your world, and all the while,
some messengers have encrypted your lyrics
that were meant to be sung
instead of warped into an eerie bedtime story
that scares faith into ultimatums, pulling it away from the
drive pushing foot before foot, through the cool night air,
onward to what you said in my heart
is Tomorrow with glory on my side,
because you’re not walking with me,
you’re inside me
you are me
and so much more—
I can’t call you by name,
for none would do

but I believe,
I believe in You.

Wednesday, September 08, 2010


I’m an open book
my own life colours the pages
while I’m not so sure whose hands to allow
to hold my cover and read me ‘til I’m
a memory
I know my story—from start to cloudy
future come
though I can’t predict what precedes “The End”

are my Chapter One
the darkness took over Two and most of my pages
until I read between
the lines
and saw my saving graces in the I’s of those
who saw me for a work of art instead of

yet every time a quote of reassurance dances across
my present Chapter
my history seeps through
with the eulogy I wrote and continue to recite because
the ink threatens to bleed forever on the heart of my

I’m waiting for the light of tomorrow
to dry up the legacy I wrote for you
instead of the heritage you truly left
hidden in my driving force and inspiration
to keep writing these words

I may have caught a glimpse in His eyes
of the light my words crave to stem out of
my introduction and bloom into a glorious
end but
will His words drown out the pain I wrote
and let stain tomorrow’s paragraphs of
fairytale proportions
or fade into the ebony smudges of fear left
unspoken but written all over the margins
so nothing can be implied
save for the plea for an editor
to clean up yesterday’s errors with crimson words
of hope
and the chance to
begin again