Saturday, August 18, 2012


no such thing as a little death
it's strong as snake
catches you by the throat
shakes everything hard
til all that's left
is love
leaking out of you
all over the people
all over the bread you give away
all over the thirsty world









Saturday, July 28, 2012


a pansy seed will come up a pansy every time
and never once turn out to be a refrigerator

but the human spirit can be persuaded to believe that it is not Love but merely flesh in a material world

would to God we were simple as pansies and revealed in all our creative brilliance

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

i.
nothing could be said
with people sitting there at the table...
words would have tumbled out of me

like puppies pushing open the gate,
rolling over each other,
jumping from one thing to the next

all wiggly with nonsense and joy.
but my words had to sit and stay like big dogs.

 ii.
when our eyes caught and held
it's a wonder others didn't notice
the two hotties at the table  
in a holy moment 
over forks and napkins and chicken and asparagus,

...naked to our souls

right in front of them.

iii.
time moves alongside. but we don't feel it.
it's the oddest thing.

is this how it will be to grow old with you?
moments in tablespoons,
years by the gallon?
until we're gone?
you over there, me over here?

iv.
now and again i wonder
if talking takes up too much space. 

thinking and talking get me in trouble anyway.
but how can i sacrifice the words of my heart
on wednesdays...
can there ever be such a thing
as too much love spoken
one day a week?

but if i did it--

held it all back in a burden of silent trust, 

without unpacking my feelings in nouns and verbs--
would it be sacrament enough in this life

to earn my wings to the next level?

v.
hell is weeks into years of getting by, making do,
busying up days, tossing alone nights...

but for wednesdays,
and the music of my own heart,

heaven would be too far.


Thursday, March 29, 2012


perdido key


some days are more magical than others.
but i doubt the author of love sees it that way.
not that magic and wonder and awe are words too small for the divine force,
'just that i can't take it all in as a human in the linear world.
and yet, it is enough just to stand in the sand and breathe 
with the rise and fall of the waves,
and to feel all the magical wonderful awesomeness of this day 
and the pounding and crashing and starry bliss of the coming night.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

the exigencies of prayer

when he said ''lift up your hearts''
was that not a call to higher consciousness...?

perhaps to a higher vibration that sets us apart,

a little higher than the intrepid ants
a little more than keening whales?
perhaps the animals have more natural humility and a direct channel.
and humans make it all too complicated.

perhaps we are not all that dissimilar
and we are what we disdain.
we have ant moments
trudging trudging in a line on the highway
with hearts smaller than mustard seeds.
and we have whale moments
when everything we pray sounds like
earnest honking underwater.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

another well.

there's something seldom about
how the words come sideways
how they go here
and not here
and it's all so precious interesting
but what is all this fierceness about writing writing
other than the passionate must
at the intersection of a foolish heart
and the relentless come hither

Monday, January 23, 2012

always on the edge of epiphany

sometimes it's nothin but stars up there
yet how come there's thunder rumbling all around
alleluia on that
songs spring from somewhere in the night
and play a message when i wake if i'm listenin
more alleluia

livin this life may be less than a soulbreath
but 'seems it all comes in either seconds or eternities
mostly merciful alleluia
and most thoughts are streams that current by
with less than a minnow to show for all this fishin
alleluia, alleluia anyway