poetry

Calling Out

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You can call out to the universe,
light a random spiritual flame,
converse with some spirits
you may or may not name.
You can link with a dead disembodied
owner of a shady past.
Those identities you’ll never know,
and fake relationships won’t last.

The One who stood
and stands
beside you,
and your sorrow sees,
left no question of His sacrifice,
or authority.

You may seek,
but when you’re finished seeking,
weary at the end of the day,
look up from the feet of Jesus,
the one who is “the way.”

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life;
no one comes to the Father but through Me. John 14:6

Liquidate Counterclockwise Security

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The rules for dictionary roulette (as I see them) are that you must use each word in a stanza of your poem.
Here goes.

John was quite the charmer,
as many ladies met their fate.
He was so smooth they would melt,
and so become liquidates.

I keep a clock on the counter;
I’m one of those timely guys.
It’s the smart thing to do;
I must be counterclockwise.

My teas are expensive,
imported from overseas.
I keep them safely locked up,
they’re securities.

so far

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the farther away I am from you
the greater the distance from young
words that were so easy to say
fall weighted from my tongue
I see them at my feet and wonder
who will pick them up?
and help me use them
to call to you
but confound and blast the luck
next time tie a rope to me
so when you leave our door
when I have need
I can pull you home
and hold you evermore

Destiny Please Part 1

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Destiny please,
what you see, is just the beginning.
Now that I can see
the purpose in the pain
and I’m not foolin’ around anymore.

Destiny please,
The seed that God planted
and nurtured with the sun and the rain
is bursting forth and spreading its wings.
Soaring to
where the air is thin
and it’s terribly hard to breathe.

Little do you know,
but great you should expect
from the One
Who invented miracles.

Please, can I go too?

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Going to the store?
Yes, I’ll go. Sure, I’ll go.
Please, can I go too?
Anywhere you go, is where I want to be.
I want to go with you.

Lift me up onto your shoulders.
I’m taller than everyone.
Give me your rough hands
to use for reigns;
we’ll ride off toward the sun.

Going to the beach?
Yes, I’ll go. Sure, I’ll go.
Please, can I go too?
Anywhere you go, is where I want to be.
I want to go with you.

Sand is a world of adventure.
We’ll put it in my sandbox.
The ocean gives it up for free.
God knows I like to play.

Anywhere. Anything. Anyhow. Anywho.
Anywhat. Anyone. Anyis. Anydo.
Yes, I’ll go. Sure, I’ll go.
I want to be with you.
I want to go with you.

Time Out

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One weekend
I decided,
being of the giving kind,
to take my friend Time out,
might he need a break to unwind?
To my view he’d been working too hard,
passing everything in sight,
until night blurred into day and daytime into night.

I asked him, might he speak with his boss,
to request an extended leave?
He replied this was unlikely,
as his boss, Greenwich
was a hard taskmaster and mean.

Nonetheless, upon the issue I prevailed,
until my friend agreed
to take a two-week-sail.
For that 14 day period,
he did not once count,
though he was the only one who knew
since no functioning clocks could sound.

From that day back
and forward
Time has taken occasional rest
because even a man like time
needs to take himself out
to be his best.

Position: Independent

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Tonight I’m writing a poem using dictionary roulette. It’s like the poems I’ve done where my family picks words I have to use within a specific number of stanzas. Tonight I picked words at random from the dictionary. Actually, my wife picked them because I suck at it. The words I picked were Horne, Lena & National Bank. After that, I let her pick. These aren’t great, but they’ll have to do.

I want a job I think you want too,
because this guy
(me)
writes his own job description.
It’s the sort of thing
everyone
could qualify for,
a peculiarly adaptive position.

It isn’t the kind of job you’d find
on Craig’s list
or in the paper,
nor is it criminal;
it doesn’t involve capers.
It doesn’t matter your sex,
be it lady or gent.
This job fits all
’cause it’s position independent.

Moment Harvest

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Think of a day
as a moment harvest,
gathered nuggets of time
nourishing moments you pick from the field
of your day.
Gather them in a big cloth sack,
then spread them out when the sun goes down
put them on a scale
to see what they weigh.

Waking up next to your wife.
Quiet time with God.
A hot cup of coffee.
The sun coming up.
Time spent with men you respect.
Reading a good book.
A drive to work (bonus *with your daughter*)
A call from a friend thanking you for advice.
Playing with your dog.
Admiring your garden.
Dinner with your family.
Time to think and write.
Time to rest, recuperate,
and dream.

If I continue looking at all my days
as moments harvested
just like that,
I imagine the only thing
I’ll ever need
is a bigger and stronger
cloth sack.

Are You Foolish?

007

Given a fork in the road,
do you take the path
that is worn smooth?

When you get dressed
do you wear what
won’t
get you noticed?

Do you lift your hand
in class
if you
aren’t
sure?

God’s eye is on the brave
and brave is different for
every man
and woman.

There’s freedom
and reward
in stepping out
of the skin
you’ve grown used to.

Don’t assume as far
as you’ve come
is as far as you can
go.

God never runs
out of plans for
us.
We just
stop listening.