Thoughts on an Assignment

They say that God is full of huge places

That he stitched up this universe with a breath

But still stands in hallways

Waiting for the last doors to creak closed

I opened the fridge, to see

If the light still comes on when I’m hungry

Or if that too is swallowed up

By a stomach too empty to feed

He’s no Zeus’s lightning, but still

He is loudest in my distances

Shaking my desk awake

When words threaten to wash me clean

Away

I still stand at the universe’s edge

Peaking within the cumulus

For any hall-ward door

Seeking my own stitching sigh

These subterranean dreams
Help me keep my feet on the ground
And the ground over head.

The Comedian

I hear Robin Williams

Lost the fight against himself

Yesterday

They say lime-lights

Tug on every crack and crevice

Till you’re terrified of laughter.

Lightning wit to brighten lives
A thunder clap in silence

Everybody knew Robin

Made-up for the camera.

Some kind of super hero

Who prowled his unlit streets

And beat up bad guys in the mirror.

Mine is fated
To question Fate itself
And tell the time
That I am no man's fool

Perichoresis

How to be still

And yet to move

Feet and hands and voice

Not lost but found

Entwined with Anothers

How to give

And yet receive

To breathe mountains

And fill valleys.

Is the way straight and wide?

Or do I dangle in orbit

Hopelessly outmatched

Before the luminous Son?

How to feel with phantom limbs

Cut off since that first forbidden fruit,

To press God-sized fingers in the clay,

Feel the music carry me away

Only to find that I’ve been away this whole time

And these are the arms of the Prodigal Father.

We're not orphaned, lost inside the rain
We just forgot to wander back again
Heavy eyes and heavy sighs
Home is where you hang goodbyes

I shall find you
My brightest diamond
And rescue me
From the clay

Adrift

Every
Single
Moment
The fulcrum of eternity.
I find
Myself
Unhinged

We drank our own little corner of the sky
Each man an island
A drift
A ponder sea

The winter leaf
Was the last
Who's held breath
Hoped beyond autumn.

I walled myself
Against the cold
Careful not to crush him
With my winter boots

Take me away butterfly
Struggling feebly against the gentle breeze
Ever victor more than I
Trapped beneath these fraying sleeves

We were giants when the world was small

Cold and sweet like an arrow

Justice in the meadow grass

Flowed beneath the eaves

We sheltered for the storm to pass

Beneath that one dead tree

Unhinging the wet, sharp jaws

Of hypothermic leprosy 

You spoke as if to calm the wind

To bid farewell it's furious life

The storm, the tree, and you hung still

Heaven's soft son, to die.

They say it's cold in Neverland
That stretch between stars
Where time forgets its watch.
I'm glad you invited me inside.

I will end my search
And with one word
Begin it again

A Dream

I opened you up along your perforation
And polished all your edges with toothpaste
Turn back once more, if you'd care to wish
I am only soul and hands and this
A photo of you I stole. To cherish
When you weren't looking

I long to be in the light
Not because
I am shadow-child no more
Just simply
Because you are.

Clouds are Coming (These are Happy Words)

Melodies have shaken off their silence

Lost and beautiful no longer

Gone is the burn to swallow the sun

I feel at my warm, tattered fringes 

And curl like mist insides

I will not always be
But for now I am

To climb from the muck
On a ladder of grease

To challenge the insignificance
Of each and every day
Toy soldiers lined up smartly
Waiting for the bombs to fall

Footprints rough the road ahead
Each crater cut to my measure
Back from finding another nothing in the wilderness

Sadness' sleepless measured tread
Musts a run to stay ahead
Wandering feet on wearied legs
Heavy hearted hooded head
Only movement keeps me dead.

Live whatever you will say
Together we will pay
Being free is so expensive
If the time is running dry
And days are running by
I'll tell you all my wildest plans. If
Truth be told and lies be sung
And all is just begun
The ending's not a thing to not give.

Inchoate

So full of half-filled shapes
Fit to bursting with inchoate
Longing for a moon
That is no moon
Just a harbour-thin reflection
On a rippled dinner plate
I could
Sew these ragged dreams to riches
But such half-spun mists
Hang much too soft
To carry all my future-weight.

Fireworks

My retinas have that full-sun bleach
Light's ghosts haunting every blink
I hope I won't remember you wrong
Always
Red fire in blues and greens
A sky rocket reaching for the moon with screaming hands
Dying brighter than it ever lived.