Your verdict heard from the throne
Earth stops still, You are known
The sun burns, the meek remain
Days die in celestial rain Read More
You who have lived many layers of lifetimes overlying just one body. The serious kid who took pride in her father — and her mother, for granted. The college girl with once a head of “dreamy blonde” highlights who spent her restaurant paycheck on $220 Versace sunglasses, a tank of gas, and a bottle of Bordeaux. The fervent penitent who sought God within church walls… Read More
Dendritic lies spread like an unearned ovation
Poisoning mankind’s body and hopeful expectation
Tasting metallic of both euthanasia and revelation
Atomic love and remorse in equal parts for expiation
A deadly sweet catalyst of symbiotic relation
When is amanita Happy Hour for cellular sedation? Read More
Foliage dense on mountainsides
And wild’fires burn
Thicket heaves a smoky breath
Monsoons drown the afternoon.
The world is alive.
Rapt and ravenous,
Passionate the elements and
Susceptible to pride.
Does God not tire in rescuing us from our God-given nature? Read More
We like miracles because they are now,
Not because they are from God.
We use God’s love because it serves us well,
Forgetting that without it, we would be dead.
We watch our loved ones sleep
And pray to God they do his will
And then grow afraid of his will.
There lacks congruence in what we Read More
The exhaustion cuts, shards-of-broken-mirror style, contusions in the psyche realizing there have been twenty-eight jobs in fourteen years since I started my first at age fifteen. (To Joshua’s twenty-three since sixteen.) My mind experiences it most acutely, always trying so hard just to pay rent and maybe eat something, and of course the incessant criticism that chides, “And you’re glorifying God, how exactly?” Then the body manifests the fatigue, and at last the spirit gives in. And I’m not even counting the nights at Ralph’s in Costa Mesa where he would take glamour shots for eighty bucks, or making aspen bar stools and scattering the wood shavings in the forest, or dealing Texas Hold’em Read More
[This is a continuation from Deep I]
Poverty and sorrow my allocation
I became a proverb unto the nation
Adorned in sackcloth, I am set afar off
From those who care not for salvation
But you know I am neither deaf nor dumb
Having been my trust and all life’s sum
Forsake me not, give strength to this lot,
Your power to everyone that is to come Read More
Reading Crime and Punishment in the dark and wet rural Chinese winter and Joshua got sick with a fever on the border town. Wanting to kill the nihilist prick, “Rodya,” I explored the streets alone and brought back a paper bowl of noodles. The inherent problem with writing is that it delineates thought and action. Can we write and free ourselves from further categorization, further erring by playing tricks that depend on the duality illusion? Read More
In the womb I talk with my hands
And every sign is another stanza
Of the poem, of our home
We all delight in as a dance
Meditating on it day and night
Communing with our hearts’ lamplight
Surrendered will, lying still
We become the heavenly right
For man has shamed oft before
The blessed counsel of the poor
Because the Lord is their reward
And place of refuge forevermore Read More
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