Moving East

mournful wail
slides along hill
over and around
while frozen man stands
praying for moss and limbo
 
"Lord hold me here
till doomsday come
hiding from broken
I cannot flee from"
 
but that won’t happen
so man moves east
’cause the light comes quickly
walking from deepening dark
stone-stepped and weary
while the rose sun rises
spilling fresh-fire spirit
amidst the waking song
 
"Lord move me east
till doomsday come
and steep me in
the eternal Son"
 
 

father

father has two faces
and hangs like janus
in my mind
one looks back
one looks ahead
 
and I…
 
I stand in between
 

Lunarflare

low faded moon peels
at the sides
like yellow stained paint
curling off the wall
till you want to
reach up and pull it down
 
sick and oily
                  with
a lack of light
a lack if white
there’s a bleached as bone
                                   cold  memory
singing in my head
 
the higher it goes
the brighter it gets
the closer to Heaven
the closer to pure
 
that’s the time
a late blooming linen
moves into sun –
lunarflare
alive in another

ITALIA!

Blog Hound

I have become something of a blog hound these days. I have had very little time for reading but blogs, by and large, are reasonably easy to keep up with. One of the pastors I look up to (aside from the ones I work with) is Andy Stanley – I was surprised to find out about his love for blogs.
 
Here are some things I have noticed:
 
– blogs seem to be that place where people become a little more open…the darkest secrets don’t come out but people feel safer about revealing themselves because there is a distance between them and the reader.
– blogs sometimes become the place where the alternate persona is taken on. People sometimes try to craft the person they wish they were or who they perceive themselves to be inside but are too afraid to be in public.
 
– the blog world is filled with selfish trolls hunting for youth who in turn find the blog world to be a place without boundaries…no one to tell them what to do, or how to be, or who they can talk to.
 
– there are discussion oriented blogs
 
– there are monologue/rant oriented blogs
 
– there are photo/music oriented blogs
 
– some blogs feel like lonely shouts to an empty universe; "here I am, save me!"
 
– many of the blogs I read surprise me, sadden me, make me joyous, make me angry…I am convinced that people (youth in particular) have compartmentalized their lives to such a degree that they see no problem with being completly immoral/ammoral on the net because it lacks a "realness" that life has. It lacks accountability – as though God is not on the Net.
 
– sometimes I want to comment on a blog in a way that would not ultimately be helpful. I want to go to the trolls and warn them to "stay away from my youth, or else…". I want to let the hurting know that someone who cares is listening. But I realize that being present is often the best I can do and pray that connection happens.
 
– sometimes watching a blog is like watching a birth. It can be a frightening and helpless experience where, as father, you have no control over what happens – you have faith and hope.
 
– blogs can be windows into worlds and sub-cultures you might never otherwise have a chance to see. These can be good places or places or stinking evil. Take for example the blog I found which focuses on encouraging and posting videos of youth hurting themselves which broken glass, fire, knives, tacks etc. As beings created in the image of God it is like watching an assault on God Himself. It is painful to see to the point where I want to reach through the screen and intervene somehow. There are also places of freshness of beauty.
 
– sometimes I feel like I am invading a person’s privacy by reading their blog until I realize that this was the whole point of the blog in the first place. A blog is like a diary left out at a strategic time, in a strategic place, for a particular person to find…there is a hope that it will be read and responded to.
 
– Blogs are ironic because they are a virtual attempt to establish a person’s existance in reality – they are existential. They are validating.
 
– blgos are places where the word is becoming fresh and alive again in a time when it was once thought dead…and where the word is fresh the Word can come and transform…pray that it does.

Your Order

sometimes
these
poems
feel
like
one
long
sentance
broken
to
bits
and
arranged
for
delivery
better
stop
now

Agaperos

what love
reaches out but can let go?
 
what love
seeks Venus and holds Athena?
 
what love
digs deep and hurts?
 
what love
sees flesh AND soul?
 
what love
creates AND knows?
 
what love
is strong AND weak?
 
what love
                is this
that has eternity
to know the filth
and still suffers
to be wrapped in it?
 
frightening,
unworldly,
whole,
complete,
absolute.

Natalie Merchant

funny –

maniacs sing
                    and
i remembered the name of Natalie Merchant
but can I remember the ones who made me
who I am?

odd –

this mind can hear a voice
and the world returns fresh and bright
taste a taste
and the room’s like it was in 1985
but are you there?

vanished

what sense resurrects you?

Unfaithful Golem

what ghost this
who wanders mind’s halls
as though they were dead?
 
what counterfeit this
who seeks to haunt
corridors closed?
 
what dim shade
slips light
to pass through this life?
 
will-less and uncreated
animated not animate
you were called
brought not came
unfaithful golem
 
go.

Thanotic

I can almost understand
the quick end
 
the cut
the drop
the knot
the swallowing black
the dark water that claws you down
the hammer to the pin to the primer to the powder to the lead to the created
 
almost…
 
I cannot understand
 
the slow walk to the middle of the road
the waiting patiently for the truck
the Kevorkian call
the knowing that you signaled for
rider on a pale horse to trample you down
slow and steady
the year by year thanotic planning
blind, bored and numb
 
I cannot.