Of heaven will be fierce
With the smudgy lines of
Zinc oxide slashed across their faces
War paint angels
Colorful
is that food coloring?
No. But it is washable
After play time
After recess
After our snack of apples cut in even slices
Rich in a new color–
colors
Vivid
Will be my new name
When I get there
I will use the injunction you taught me (joy)
C’mon, let’s go play
Smash something?
Use words
Strong as stone
Words like justice and naked
Truth
Heavy as the grave
Turn and face
The monster of loss
Spectral hunger
For a fame without weight
Women sell their souls
Like dogs in the broad daylight
We will not survive;
Our souls might
Is a cage
Bars of iron and carbon
Our bones and the teeth of
The dragon who bore us
Sown into earth
Dust we are and dust we shall be
Through the steel barrier
Of memory
We eye freedom in chains
And paw at the irretrievable arrow
In our ribcage
Had a human child
She would hide herself
With clever disguises
A colorful kerchief
Or floral apron
She would
Measure her breathing
Careful always
To hide the wisps
Of steam and smoke
Rising from her armored chest
But you would know
You could tell
The little things
She could not hide
Her bloodshot eyeballs
And cerulean scales
The wrinkles of a thousand years of waiting
For the child she held
So dear
The man
Too thin to be real
Standing on the beach
With the sky behind him?
Endless sky
Endless sky
Mirrored in a shallow sea
To have time in your hands
And eternity in your eyes
With the sky behind you?
Standing on the beach
Too thin to be real
man
Splendor
Stretched out for miles
Cupped
In the palm of
Your hand
Like sand in a bottle
Light years
Who can fathom
Light years?
You.
Word made flesh and dwelt among us
Wanton beautiful
If you want
To see the mind of God
Gaze
At the clear night
Sky
Or just
The bubble nebula
Ghost/
Holy Ghost.
I used to write either to process grief, hold onto God, or take pictures with words.
I wrote poetry to hide and survive
Hide the full story
Survive the storm
Or whatever…
When you are 22 you want to be famous and loved
Now I understand better why I write one way or another
Prose is the plodding slow reward of a clean house
Poetry is a fencing match
A race against prose
Say something
Before it is too late
Try writing ordinary things
As poems
A fight with someone you love?
A grocery list
Acknowledges the power
Of the smallest things
We can
Take for granted
Uncock the gun
Release the bullets
Into the palm of your hand
Put the weapon down
Smash it into pieces
Sown into earth
Like the teeth of the mythical
Dragon
Pull down the walls
Release the lions
They will feed now
On grass like the Lamb
Who has tamed them
Undo all the damage
Unleashed by thIs savage
Heart next to
A river, next to a Tree
At the center of this new country
We talk short words
The argot of binary code
Words and symbols you know better than me
Girlchild
My other daughter
Wish I could keep you close
Through storms and sun and boredom
All the days
A reminder of things
Beyond my reach
Light, for instance
Poured out like a drink offering
Through trees in the summer sky
Why is it following me? The boy asks
Because it loves you
His mother speaks of metonymy
And the moon?
Why does it follow me?
Same reason, of course
Love.
Carrying Light 