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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…
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Forgotten Lines Not Forgotten
The “doh!” moment of forgetting some of the most important lines of a spoken word piece that you’ve shared dozens of times before but just happened to brain fart on THIS time–that moment happened to me a couple nights ago. So, here are the lines, slightly out of context but nonetheless remembered and not forgotten:…
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Fighting for Hamlet
Recently I began tutoring Hamlet (obviously not his real name), an international student who is attending a Lutheran high school though he himself is, as he emphatically stated, “not Christian.” He further clarified that he disliked all the talk of God that was beaten into his head; he was tired of hearing, “You should believe…
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Favorite Things
standing atop a summit at daybreak it’s still the night, but just barely brown paper packages tied up with hope and filled up with love at 4 in the morn pour-overs and pull-overs steam on black rimmed glasses nieces speaking miracles and metaphors but to them, they’re just wondering indigo blue midnight canopy polka-dotted…
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The Evergreen Tree
Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree… Christmas celebrations come replete with a cornucopia of customs, decor, carols, colors, bells, ribbons, and aromas. A much-loved fragrance and happy sight is the decorated Christmas tree lit up with twinkling stars and family memories passed down from grandmas to granddaughters in hanging ornaments. I recently saw an Instagram…
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Merry Mas Cristo
I’ve decided to convert to Paganism and celebrate the Winter Solstice on December 21st, complete with burning a yule log and drinking mead while reciting Mother Earth poetry. Wait, no. That’s not right… Oh, I’ve decided to succumb to the materialism of this season and purchase and expect gifts in absurd excess and wrap innumerable packages in…
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Where I’m From
The title of this post is taken from a poem of the same name by Willie Perdomo. In the poem, Perdomo recounts in stunning & visceral imagery, onomatopoeia, similes, metaphors, dialogue and sensory details where he grew up. His past. His story. The what that makes him anything. I treasure this poem not only for its…
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Daughters & Dads
Opening the poet’s eye again To film and capture for you the Disarray of mom rubber tires screeching child Fluttering paper sobs in the shower tired eyes Stubborn mouth devastated clocks g’byes And the blank spaces left by dads who are too far away These disarrays fill my days, but they aren’t really my days…
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Love Tree
love is patient ly Growing
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but at the bottom of all these things, giving meaning to them, will be the inward habit of beholding God. a new set of eyes (so to speak) will develop within us enabling us to be looking at God while our outward eyes are seeing the scenes of this passing world.…
SMASHED SAINT 