Poetry Corner

Away (3/2/07)

fleeting scenes fly by - pinpoint photos in time

they inspire me

the way you do

to come to you

live in to your rhythm and flow

completely let go

and all i have to risk

is everything

and all i want to give

is everything

so come to me as i whisper your name

come to me

as i take you in

Wind (3/10/95)

the wind is blowing in my ears whispering harsh words to me that sting

and the moon only offers half-light

but the sky is clear

that is all i came to see tonight,

the heaven's above my soul

i stand as a mountaintop above the world, below the heavens

looking up, trying to catch a glimpse of God

maybe even searching for my humanity

and i dare not blink and miss my mystic guide

for i have so many questions

and i want to put an end to my grief

this aching, longing, pain i've had since birth

and perhaps if i met my creator, while still on this earth, i could understand and move on, maybe i could lead the life he'd want me to live.

So i raise my hands to him in praise and prayer

asking him to relieve me

and i notice how the moon pales my skin, covering my form

and how i seem to bridge the gap between heaven and earth

how majestic and exhilarating

Now i realize that God surrounds me, high on mountain tops or amid my brethren, amid fog or stars, sun or moon

The wind stings my face as i stand on this mountain top and my garment is now a tattered rag blowing and conforming to the gusts. My hands still toward God, my thoughts still in prayer, knowing i will never be at peace until peace be with me

living as He has chosen for me

. . .not under the half light of the moon in search of what i know to be true

but being in truth

from the mouth of God

to my soul

WHO SURVIVES?

who survives

when you feel his hand reaching for you , groping you

and all he wants to do is hurt you for his warped purpose , . . . to have a sense of manhood , of being alive and dangerous

then, who survives

who     survives

who survives. who      survives! who survives!! WHO SURVIVES!!! who survives this madness, this insanity, this cruel vile thing?

who survives?

and afterwards

on Earth

everything I touch turns to dirt

To live to die

I still do not survive

and      living

all i m

is anger and rage and pain

and fear,

it will happen again

and again and again and again and again and again. . .

and fear of being a perpetrator or instigator or accessory to that deed

prevents me

to give life so that i may not take it

so i m no survivor

i m no phoenix who can rise from her ashes and start again

no, i m a carpenter building on shallow ruins of what was mine

and once in a while my edifice crumbles and the visage i wear cracks

my façade has ended

i must start again

who survives dear God? who survives

Tomorrow, Can't Breathe. . .