The high forehead (poem)

Sometimes I think it’s pathetic
to think we’re not genetic
and that I’m the seed of some other guy,
Because try as I might,
and hard as I fight,
I don’t see a common tie.
I’m mostly liberal, a free flying bird,
you hang around conservatives I think are absurd
I like metal, heavy and death
is that NPR rehashed on your breath?
I love others, straight & GLBT,
their “final destination” is a fight between we.
But Jesus loved the one labeled “sinner”
am I not the one who is more of a winner?
But it’s not about winning, but about caring
living in community, loving and sharing
So you and I might be on 2 different levels,
you with the businessmen and I with the disheveled.
Yet God loves us all you cannot deny
that he sent his only son to die,
that in Him is life and life to the fullest,
our God certainly is the coolest.
Life to death and on to resurrection,
we live this out daily, on in quiet reflection.
So you and I might never agree,
as long as we to man’s redemption on Calvary.


Little birds (poem)

Little birds who in a rage
flew right out of their cage
and their wings were damaged, covered in soot,
for their loved ones had given them the boot
so why did you land near my roost
did I look comforting? Did you need a boost?
taking you in with your damaged pinion feathers
torn up by stormy weather and old love letters
so you came to me as if I were a vice not a virtue
you came because you knew I would not hurt you
and in my mind I knew some day
that you would fly away.

Say what you will and be defended,
these emotions weren’t real, we pretended
but when you say WE…do you know what you’re saying
when you heard I was praying did you think I was preying?
You know I’m emotional, do you get what I’m conveying?
Well I’m not down on this, trust me someday soon
another bird will land, her name is June
and she will settle down with me as a free bird
we won’t be kept down and we’ll exchange words
transitioning over time, like to love
she shall be free my little dove
and I shall be vulnerable, to be truly intimate
but for now I’m caught up in this predicament
over birds who landed one day
who wanted to be healed just to fly away.


Confessions of a closeted capitalist (poem)

I live in a state of duress
brought on by stress with what I possess
my books, my camera gear
they’re near and dear, but
I fixate and salivate
save and spend, invest and buy
worldly possessions…just to get by (?)
I don’t need this surrealism brought on by my capitalism
but still I take out my cash, my credit card
do I think much about it? well I don’t think hard
that the material I purchase might be real
but living for myself is rather surreal
this thing called money has made me a phony
I talk a good game but I know it’s baloney
I give my time, my strength and health
but I hardly give any of my wealth
I give away parts of me that has no expenditure
living a life that’s equal parts risk and adventure
but I’m cold and calculating, searching and seeking
for temporary fixes that always are fleeting
and with everything I call my stuff, call me out & call my bluff
To which I wonder does it really matter? When is it enough?


I saw God today/Imago Dei (poem)

I saw God at my work today,
he reeked of cigarettes,
He smiled a broke tooth smile,
cheap alcohol on his breath.
He wanted to find some music,
So I helped him with a smile,
“‘Here’s the Metallica albums'” I said
so he looked there for a while.
He was disheveled and visually a mess
but I didn’t have to second guess
that in the brokenness of this man before me I saw God
I could have hidden my love away but love shouldn’t be a facade
We talked a moment before he left on a bike painted primer gray
I smiled in the cold Spring breeze at a guy, an Imago Dei*
I started to cry externally for reasons I cannot say
but there went God riding a bike, I saw him ride away.


*Imago Dei is Latin for Image of God, we are all images of God.