The prudent never drive with eyes
affixed on the rearview, but I
am lost in a spiritual high
in hills she hides in–hills she hides.
Tag: Poetry
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Last Day of the Spiritual Retreat
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The Battle
Tiny finger nails tear his cheek
rebel against sleep
I trek over toys
rock him in my arms
he stabs my neck with fingertips
my ears with shrieks
I coo his name
rise in waves
he scowls at me
breaks my heart
my will remains
wades through tempests
waits hour-like minutes…
arms crash onto my bosom,
roar wanes into a whimper,
eyelids set, and finally,
silence. -
Shadow
Her shadow stands taller than me.
When I wander into it, night
consumes day. I become the prey
of undead dreams I couldn’t slay,
and she is their serpentine queen.
To dream her eyes piercing through me
turns me to stone, whets every bone
with hunger too well-known, but she
stands at such heights, she cannot see
little ol’ me, crushed by her feet
as I nip at her heel and plea
for healing. My sacrifice gained
nothing; every resurrection
brought second death, but my heartbeat
shall never resurrect. Now I
await Armageddon, praying
to see her on her knees before
her warrior king. Whether he strikes
with hand or scepter, either flood
she secretes will wash all my stains.
Solstice night will subside, the moon
will turn a new tide, revealing
shores I hadn’t traveled before.
In dawn’s infant light, I will find
the stone overturned, binding ropes
burnt, freedom from the cross, falling
onto my feet. King of myself,
even if I have nothing else. -
“I’ll pray for you.”
Clogged ears drown in her deluge as mind hides
in tranquil slumber in the wooden ark.
Half-shut eyes stray toward faces passing by,
fathoms away from hers, too wet and dark.Her monologue ends; she stares, longs for words
to soothe spiritual wounds I didn’t hear.
I scavenge sermons for slogans I’ve heard
to ease her pain (or, at least, save my ears).Four simple words declaimed with theatrics
rehearsed at work, waiting on drunken jerks,
coaxing from their wallets handsomer tips.
Four words of charity (without the work).She rises with a finger, turns and leaves;
at least my brethren will be proud of me. -
Schadenfreude
Her pain’s the medicine I swallow to
help demolish disorders driven through
my skull since kindergarten, a cocktail
of Welbutrin, Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil.
I drown the stowaways oppressing me–
depression and social anxiety–
in tears she sheds along with family–
her mother, sisters, brothers. Slavery
to tides defined three decades, but the stings
inflicted by her hubby grant me wings
to fly above Egypt toward Babel’s peak,
plumed with purple petals above her cheeks.
Beneath the gold veneer of smiles she feigns,
I ravish bitter fruit and smile again. -
Drink as One
Another night
Another drink
Drink a pint
Drink till closing
Closing wounds
Closing thoughts
Thoughts of fate
Thoughts of the future
Future adrift
Future forsaken
Forsaken for others
Forsaken for miracles
Miracles needed urgently
Miracles never arrive
Arrive alone
Arrive home too late
Late to maturity
Late to the banquet
Banquet of beggars
Banquet without room
Room to breathe
Room to grow
Grow a pair
Grow apart
Apart from bad habits
Apart from the past
Past old wants
Past the fear
Fear of failure
Fear to try
Try again
Try a new plan
Plan to find fame
Plan to find love
Love grows fonder
Love will conquer
Conquer inhibitions
Conquer all anxiety
Anxiety disorders
Anxiety to perform
Perform an encore
Perform for a new audience
Audience in the mirror
Audience of one
One reborn
One free from the world
World…
Reborn… -
Revival
Stand on broken knees,
test the fear of heights,
abandon rotten relics,
take back stolen nights,
step into the dark,
redirect the stars
to shower the soil with light,
leave the baggage behind,
taste fresh bread and wine
(preferably homemade).
The saints will say you’re lost,
but did they ever bother
to learn your name
in their quest for fame? -
Waking Up
I beseech you, World, shake this comatose flesh out of slumber!
Carry my pleas to heart! Break down the door
of this cage before these white walls become my grave.
I open reluctant eyes to darkness, crawl to the bathroom
to blanch my face in the moldy sink only to discover
I’m trapped in bed stranded in a recurring nightmare.I pray you, Sun, pry sewn eyes from sleep with marvelous light!
Break me out of Babel! Are your eternal rays that part seas
impotent to creep through the plastic blinds erected
by family and friends in the name of comfort?
In rare moments when I briefly wake, I find no star
outside to deliver me into dawn, so, I fall into bed again.Nobody calls, nobody prays; I may be trapped here the rest
of my days. Can’t reach a knob, can’t find a key,
but I discover lock-picks grated onto me:
ten razors to tear through mummified flesh,
unsheathe the frozen heart; ten whips to crack
the glacier shell, hatch the chick out of its hell.
Saturate it with fire to sweat out the tears,
squeeze out each drop of fear to restore buoyancy.
Liberated cells surface through the cracks
to welcome me back to the living world.
Fatigued, atrophied, and disoriented, but alive enough
to step outside and taste the air of life, perhaps see her
again. -
Jehovah’s Witness at the Door
A young slender evangelist came to my door
with caramel skin and cocoa-colored hair:
the frame around her cherry-glossed smile.
Hazelnut eyes portrayed beatific reflections
I followed a stranded sailor toward spotted shore.She shared a verse from 2nd Timothy barely heard
through the agony of unkempt ruffles of hair,
cakes of crust around bloodshot half-dead eyes,
a pair of pajama pants fashioned with a Scooby Doo shirt,
and a stench of fish that permeates the porch
(doubtful last night’s cologne could eclipse it).Perhaps a smile could pierce the layers of dust,
persuade her to polish me until I shine once more.
A smile wide enough for dimples, reserved enough
to conceal stray bagel morsels eaten moments before.
I breathed in the visage as long as polite
with the obligatory glance to her protege:
a larger boy with frightened eyes and a nervous smile.
How I envied him! How I dreamt to follow her
across the neighborhood, gluttonously lap
the sight of her hips hugged by the burgundy skirt
plot the steps to strip her out of jacket and blouse,
devour the dollops of coffee ice cream beneath,
discover the epicenter and dig to unearth the elixir.
She would teach me to preach; I would teach her to purr.She handed me a magazine with a promise to return
in the near future. I slid back into the house
and thanked the Lord for a second chance to see her,
this time showered, primped, and transfigured. -
Water Bugs
Silver drops dash to and fro betwixt the fallen trunk
and the muddy shore. Unable to slow, unable to go
in a direction without a turn or bend or bump
into a sibling. Blackheads upon the polished reflection
of the firmament, I pick a pebble and drop it down.
They scatter at the plop, but not very far. Again
they appear as the ripples soften and return
to their game of traffic: tick, tock, tick, tock, PLOP!