SMASHED SAINT

Category: courage

  • The Giving Tree

    The Giving Tree

    You carry our love stories on your trunk, your branches hearts names tears sighs laughter kisses carved into your flesh bark stripped away to reveal the smooth softness underneath – that place too we’ve carved with our names. Beautiful tree, holding the universe, limbs outstretched, your heart exposed as you stretch to the heavens, yet…

  • Roar

    Roar to silence hell inside of me. Its tracks have too long dubbed Over innocent symphonies written By Spirit when my soul was still Forming inside God’s infinite eye Roar to expel hell out of me. Its tracks have too long infiltrated The highways of my mind, pit-stops Littered with demons & debris of dreams…

  • Love Tree

    love is patient ly Growing

  • as promised and happy birthday

    for kenny

  • Waiting

    Words don’t get caught in my throat Rather they hide somewhere less further up, Somewhere buried, shy and unrelenting, Waiting for a moment so pure, so free So they can fly out effortlessly

  • Treasure

    All my words are spent, these treasures I gathered over the years. I’ve spent them along with gestures, minutes, ink, and ball point pens. I’ve only unintelligible whispers and heavy silences, things of a cryptic Slip-through-the-fingers nature left in this chest that once held Glittering rubies, diamonds, gold coins, crowns ‘n things… But, oddly, I…

  • come away

    in moments like when norah is swooning sounds swirling around, a peculiar longing tugs at my soul to forego all the other dreams–the art, the beauty, the revolution, the love and golden buildings–and just chase this one, this profound fair one that i desire too much and tremble to actually reach: to slip away from…

  • When I Witness*

    for DDK the way He moves your heart and captivates your soul, the way you allow for the breaking open, make room for sorrow and oceans, exhilaration and flight, all in a single breath or string of melody and glimmering eye; the way you are both young and old, innocent and wise, daring yet careful…

  • remembering

    thieves & robbers try to claim my skies, with trickery and deceit fool me into believing they just might but i look up, and so clearly see: i’m already flying

  • the dust

    collects in piles around the edges and cracks of this dream, broken again but not by the stories that haunted yesterday here is a new breaking, a new crumbling off of dry pieces like learning to hold a name tender in the center of your soul but not letting it infiltrate the secret places reserved…