forever hides (a participatory poem) plz sbmit a stnza
January 4, 2007
in the sock drawer
the shower spray
the daily news
a child born gay
I grab some toast
I gobble fast
I’m in the car
to work at last
parched from breakfast
swish swig of joe
to scheduled class
quickly I go
back of classroom
blackened faces
rows and rows of
burned-out races
after class,
get more joe
think I see god
in starbucks’ logo
So I pray
unto my coffee.
Will this help,
me in my coffin?
he listens,
i hope for the best,
if i have his ear,
what of the rest?
disco moon
January 4, 2007
all eyes on the sky
this moon is a disco moon!
we dance tonight!
fundamentalthink
January 1, 2007
I can only tell you
what to think
not what I think.
I only know
what I am told
not how to know.
I think
December 29, 2006
I am no better
or worse
than others.
I do not pretend
special powers
or treasures
to inform you.
I can only tell you
what I think,
not what to think.
be like any jerk XIV
December 27, 2006
we are told it is best
to live like kings
and truckling queens
atop this heap of humanity
(if not for the heap –
there would be no king)
the moon! is your logo…not McDonald’s
December 26, 2006
there is no place
quite like the other
each valley
each plain
each mountain
each plateau
each
with its own
land forms
life forms
weather
and light
encased in a shared
halo of air
we are binding this earth in asphalt.
binding
and branding
we block the night sky
with our signs.
from
above
we look
like fire
If you want to love Jesus
December 22, 2006
He looks like this:
Not this:
“oh, you see, god requires this” said the holy man
December 22, 2006
beggars wear the rags
holy men wear fine robes –
money well spent
nature’s way perceived as duplicity
December 21, 2006
Missing Him
December 21, 2006
Let’s work backwards:
First, I will miss him just sitting in his chair
content to smile as if he had no needs –
connected by spirit, happy to be.
I will miss the shuffle of his brave feet
planting the walker ahead like an ice axe;
climbing mountains we could not see.
I will miss him presiding above the fondue
a sorcerer in the candle light,
stirring up batches of yuletide glee.
I will miss him saying grace at the helm
from which he would love, work, and lead
a life of no regret – a life of family.
This is a re-post of a poem I wrote last Christmas about my father in law who had just passed away that October. A poem about the night he died is here:The night Joe left
qazse 