A Band-aid
for your bleeding soul
Issues?
Have a tissue
A splint
on your broken spine
(-- the healing
must come
from inside --)
I’ve seen you drink
Just like a whale
When beached and dry
Your failsafe failed
The crack from which
The sacrament leaked
The broken cup
The staring freaks
Surgical tape
Cloth gauze
Around your wounded
Faux pas
The sink in hole
The run aground
The shift and lift
At sun’s first sound
Your last meal
A Clementine,
Sweet patchwork girl
Sweet Frankenstein
I said it first
You’re last, not worst
Not her, not me
Nor Jesus, Jew
When the healing comes
It will come
From you
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Joe Buddha
the knot
in his back
formed
from his labor
37 years
doing construction
pushing wheelbarrows
of bricks
lifting stacks
of 2X4's
holding down
the muddle
of workers --
frustrated and simple
(appalled gossips)
carried home bacon
and hugs
sufficient
at times
to fill the lives
of his dear dears
and the woman he loved
like a rock
loves the ocean
that wears it down
the spasms
in his back
started small
ended
miniscule
focus in
hone to sharp
dagger point
digging into
base of spine
and one day
critical mass
flipped
his lid
a laser sun
of energy
coursed up
and through the top
of his skull
and in a moment
of agony
so intense
the Earth screamed
to be released as witness
to his crucifixion
he was awakened
in his back
formed
from his labor
37 years
doing construction
pushing wheelbarrows
of bricks
lifting stacks
of 2X4's
holding down
the muddle
of workers --
frustrated and simple
(appalled gossips)
carried home bacon
and hugs
sufficient
at times
to fill the lives
of his dear dears
and the woman he loved
like a rock
loves the ocean
that wears it down
the spasms
in his back
started small
ended
miniscule
focus in
hone to sharp
dagger point
digging into
base of spine
and one day
critical mass
flipped
his lid
a laser sun
of energy
coursed up
and through the top
of his skull
and in a moment
of agony
so intense
the Earth screamed
to be released as witness
to his crucifixion
he was awakened
crust of bread
will you fly
for me?
in all of the least
impressive faux pas
of your over-long life
we see a pattern
leaves yearning
to return
to their trees
you take a triumphant step
upward
on the road
to wherever you think
you need
to be going
the next step
is the final, irreversible
end
the next,
your redemption
we cannot count
the number of times
we have fallen
cannot measure
the desire for falling
the regret,
the redressing
and in the midnight
crumbling,
we crawl on shattered knees
toward something resembling
a true need
will you fly
for me?
pretty bird
you always return
always see it through
don't be hard on yourself
like all the rest
you were always
her favorite
for me?
in all of the least
impressive faux pas
of your over-long life
we see a pattern
leaves yearning
to return
to their trees
you take a triumphant step
upward
on the road
to wherever you think
you need
to be going
the next step
is the final, irreversible
end
the next,
your redemption
we cannot count
the number of times
we have fallen
cannot measure
the desire for falling
the regret,
the redressing
and in the midnight
crumbling,
we crawl on shattered knees
toward something resembling
a true need
will you fly
for me?
pretty bird
you always return
always see it through
don't be hard on yourself
like all the rest
you were always
her favorite
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