Poems

Somewhere on the C-scale’s edge
I found a little song.
I ran my hands beneath the strings
and held it all night long.

I didn’t know what it was called
or how it came to be,
but I fell in love with it
and took it home with me.

Someday when your world seems dark
and your heart is feeling blue,
I’ll bring along my little song
and you can hold it too.

Near the end of a black felt tip
I found a strand of ink.
I traced along its lines and curves
and freed myself to think.

I had no idea how it began
or where it all would lead,
but I pressed along the corners
and found a patch of seeds.

Someday when your mind’s confused
and you’re feeling all alone,
I’ll share some of those seeds with you
and you can grow your own.

Somewhere from a keyboard far
I heard a story call.
I cupped my ears and strained my neck
so I could hear it all.

I pressed a switch inside my head
and captured all the words.
I took the tape and brought it home
to play back what I heard.

Someday when you’re feeling lost
and you’re sure that you are through,
I’ll come by and we’ll have tea
as I play it back for you.

Tagged as: Poems

{ 3 comments }

I know that you’re attempting to make sense of the senseless,
to establish a little order in a cosmos full of chaos,
but the thing that you’ve come up with makes no sense to me.

The world is not divided into the lost and the chosen.
Whether we like it or not, we’re all in this together,
even if we choose to ignore it.

You may find comfort in the promise of heaven,
but for me, the promise of hell tears the whole thing down.

The gold is tarnished.
The milk is sour.
The honey is bitter.
The harps are out of tune
and the angels’ wings are clipped.

I cannot share in your eternal bliss
if it must be coupled with someone else’s torment.

I do not wish to be at war
with demons and evil spirits.
I’d rather be at peace with my inevitable ignorance.

I am limited and I accept that.
I am not forever, but I am today,
and that’s the thing I make the most of.

Tagged as: Poems

{ 0 comments }

My patron saints do not adorn
the pages of a book of feasts.

They did not perform the requisite miracles
and haven’t been submitted for consideration.

No one calls them bless-ed
or most holy or beloved,
and you will not hear their names
sung by a cantor
in a litany
at a candle lit vigil.

They were not obedient
or faithful
or beheaded
or fed to lions
or boiled in oil.

They were doubters,
pierced by questions
that no one wanted asked.

They sought answers
that no one wanted found.

Their thoughts were unprotected,
vulnerable and naked,
and open to destruction.

Their way was not the one way,
but the only way they knew,
and they followed it
despite the obstacles.

Tagged as: Poems

{ 4 comments }

I remember loving you
at 3 AM on a Wednesday morning
when my body longed for sleep.

I remember loving you
when you hated me
and would not speak to me.

I remember loving you as you clung to my knees
begging for one more pony ride
across the kitchen floor.

I remember loving you when you reached up to touch the sun,
and when you closed your eyes to sleep,
and I remember loving you when you thought your world had ended,
and when your life had just begun.

I remember loving you
when you drew your lungs’ first breath.
Please remember
I’ll keep loving you
until I draw my last.

Tagged as: Poems

{ 5 comments }