(The above picture is not a portrait of Mr. Chagall but another man with radically kind eyes. The quote is from the poet’s ‘Requiem Revisited.’)
Baneful acts to free will bullet-hole the planet like an inanimate target; yet I still believe in the miracle of birth, how a newborn baby can bring joy like little else we humans can experience in this existence. How when one looks into a pair of eyes still swirling with creation, Read More
From minor to augmented (egos)
you inverted perverted sevenths and ninths stacked too high and tight like crumbling tenements and
trump tower trumpettes blaring cries for deployment, displacement,
their own decadence.
The tesserae of wild flying life
the pursuit of caffeinated virtue in
my roaring twenties and twentieth-century aftermath
An improbable mosaic for the mathematically inclined:
Oils and piss and turpentine thrown onto the tabula rasa
Orchestras and cocaine and sad sex Read More
Empirical, Read More
I hear Jesus speak in a language I do not know.
He takes my limp hand in his, looks at my thumbnail and addresses the atoms by name.
They are neither male nor female,
Like God or colors, Read More
Moving through this world like forging your way through heavy plastic
Molecules dense and greedy even for your tiny space it becomes harder to breathe as they crowd around pushing in on you from all sides everyone striving to be stuck stable solid it’s like not moving at all 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
In attempt to love them
Yea, I become them
Before no walls were there.
Now built round
Notion of in-and-out has height,
Keeps out the sunlight,
Of home-and-world… Read More
Daniel Berrigan’s motto for the Nicaragua mission,
‘Let’s test this thing called “soul”.’
I get. I too, get the irony of following up such a precept with, “It was as simple as that.” How do we humans, what with our flesh and religions and legal-ese, starved souls and designer denim and bipartisan conquistadors, Read More
I scratch the mosquito bites on my skin and the mountaintops wear away revealing the beginning and end of the bronze-age. Rusty nails puncture Read More