In the absence of God
we make do with lesser fictions:
The names we give
and the sounds of our voice.
Category Archives: Original Poems
Forever Redefined
A quiet place waits at the end of passion,
rumored by the blind,
the last reward for righteous action,
forever redefined.
C Student
A slothful student
spent her studies
listening to birds.
The music stopped
once forced to learn
to name the notes she’d heard.
The Midwife and the Scholar
What is it that your books say of the winter?
Do the words speak of hunger and wolves,
the need for shelter and how to build it?
Can they strengthen your hands
and straighten your back?
With a match we could buy ourselves an hour.
Think on that before you turn another page.
Believer
The world, a cave,
a cacophony of echoes,
the work of voices and hands–
monsters and messiahs,
shadow puppets on a wall.
Egocentric projections,
candles in mirrors–
a million choirs in separate circles
singing selfhood in a round.
To break the chain is to risk salvation.
The devil’s name is doubt.
Curse my ears should I hear from others,
damn my eyes should they stray from light.
Before the Culling
Crows circle over windrows
on black wings wet with dew,
seeking seed among stalk corpses
waiting to be baled.
One last feast
before the culling,
a final bite before the cut
of coming cold.
Walking Home
Lights line the river on both sides,
the air is tourist cold, comfortable.
A late boat arrives to chase away
a daring bit of darkness.
I stop to fix my hat
then continue on my way.
Pulling Weeds
Sister fair,
Can’t you hear the storm a’ comin’
don’t you feel the touch of winter
on the fingers of the wind?
Brother strong,
Don’t you know the tide is turning,
and the weight of rising water
will be more than we can bear?
All Along,
we indulge a pleasant blindness
as we tend to fenced-in gardens,
ignoring heavy weather,
pulling harmless weeds.
Yield
Pluck the fruit of summer labor
before first frost
and crows claim corn.
Give over sleep
for one short season
and face the winter full.
Sick Day
I’m sick to death of morning:
Rude ringtone in a loop,
a smartphone challenge,
“Go ahead and break me, fucker,
go ahead and find the snooze.”