Friday, December 27, 2024

that OCD guy


afire with compulsive prayer
hand brushes hair
every minute or so
an outward expression
of an inward obsession
a man twice-odd
fanatic for God
and the part I forgot
I'm sorry a lot

your song


your song cannot be silenced
it breathes, swimming in its own light
swirls, self-propelled, in a bubble of energy
a power that cannot diminish
born of its own accord
cannot have done otherwise
no song can be silenced

it IS because it must be
it is that it is

Monday, December 23, 2024

outlandish


do dogs have feelings? 

can they understand what we say?

in ways we might not imagine

 

does the wind have words?

are we remiss in not comprehending?

 

even a mountain communicates

when we stand in awe

it has inserted its grandeur

into our thoughts

 

is God in our temples, our churches, our hearts?

is Buddha in photons, and black holes, and quarks?

some things are too outlandish to conceive

the more outlandish

the more I tend to believe

Friday, December 13, 2024

Marguerite


Marguerite wanders
by the isolation room door
a nurse tells her to get away
I don't mind her being here
don't mind the company

when she is back, she says to me
through the thick window
"Don't worry. God loves you."
maybe she knows
this is just what I need to hear

years later
during her group home intake
I will witness her 
setting her hair on fire
years after that
will see her dragging her belongings
across Public Square
I will not call to her
she has a rugged-looking guy
in tow, I feel she must at least
have some kind of protection

the nurse calls to her again
she turns and skitters off
down the dirt-tracked hallway

Sunday, November 3, 2024

the pink


the prettiest face
streak of grey on her forehead
distant threats of beauty
is the light coming up
so slowly, it aches to watch
the pink hold dullness at bay
to her breast, turns it tin-blue
over the buildings, the lone chimney
downtown welcomes
the perfect dawn

Tuesday, October 15, 2024

feed the world


like a facebook like
mists of time soar over a past
that is petulant, remains for a day
a particle of a moment among the kalpas of creation

we will never aspire to more
than our hearts can flutter

open the oven door
take out the warm loaves

feed the world as you know it
save crusts and hefty chunks of butter
for all you don't

Saturday, October 12, 2024

justice

 justice is a tiny thing

a grain of sand, a simple heart
let the guy change lanes in front of you
he may be dealing with more weight of debt
than you could ever forget
help the crusty man carry a smile
the old woman with her bags of regret

kindness is a magic of brown leaves
falling from the sky
a warm hand, open and full
heals every single one of us

truth is asking how and why
justice, again, is a hut built
in the shelter of the now
we huddle, together
need to human need