Tag Archives: life

Whatever The Face (VIDEO)

The poem I wrote after speaking with a woman who was dealing with profound grief amidst the loss of many kinfolk, including her son.

Whatever the Face

You don’t need permission to be angry with God
You’re not less of a human or any more flawed
It’s okay to yell, to scream, and to shake
To groan under your burden while your heart aches
To feel like you’re in it, totally alone
The weariness digging down deep in your bones
You don’t need permission to question your faith
To want something different than the cards that have played
You’re perfectly normal to deny what is true
The mistakes that were made that you can’t undo
Rejecting condolences because then “IT” is real
Bargaining, begging, willing to make deals
Wherever your God is, whatever the face
Know that you’re held in comfort and grace
The shoulders you cry on, the prayers that are offered
Are all given up to the ultimate Author

The Last Birthday

For Alan England

We gathered in joy to celebrate

92 years of adventures

We ate carrot cake with cream cheese frosting

He ate a whole slice

Small forkfuls gifted

I gave him nourishment of body

Refreshment of spirit

Asked questions of his life

Heard stories of his rescue

From a cave from a read report

From a caving buddy

Decades of friendship revealed

Small and barely loud enough to hear

The man approaching his history, laughed at himself,

Surrounded by love and tenderness

Exuded by his blessed daughters,

Cherished by friends

A relaxed camaraderie blossomed

Filling the room, breaking through the windows into the wooded view

We celebrated his life joyfully

By showing up in loving attention.

Grown

Flames surrounding a blue figure with gray shadow people watching.
Past life

I have lived in darkness

Reveled in its muck

Too lost to seek out beauty

Too broken to give a fuck

I have succumbed to anger

At the injustice of it all

I’ve witnessed deadmen falter

I’ve heeded hateful calls.

I have chewed away the chains

Of violent neglectful abuses

I have blamed myself and blamed the stars

I have justified it with childish excuses

I’ve rejected ancestral wisdom

To bleed out my unique path

I’ve run. I’ve crawled. I’ve slithered

I’ve ground myself to ash

I’ve built myself a castle

With every grain of sand

I’ve flown through vicious storms

Without a personal command

I’ve crashed and burned a thousand times

Roasted marshmallows on bridges I’ve burned

I’ve picked myself up and dusted me off

Each scar a battle-wound earned

I’ve cavorted with sinners and prostitutes

I’ve imbibed heavily in the drink

I’ve witnessed senseless violence

And still refused to sink

Because that darkness cannot win

It isn’t who I’ve become

It may be where I once have dwelled

But I will never revisit or succumb

TAMP: Honorarium

From the forest comes the howl

Loam of earth’s dead rise

Ascending lift of sacred fowl

Imminent his demise

The snort of buck calls to a doe

A blue jay alarms the wood

Hastened river onward flows

The frigid dusk holds good.

A witness to the story

He is silent in the still

Accolades and glory

Abandoned from his will

His legacy is found abiding

In maple, in walnut, or oak

His spirit freely residing

Among his beloved folk.

From the forest comes the howl

Loam of nature’s rise

Ascending lift of sacred fowl

The undertaking of goodbyes.

The Heir

You were a human being

With a life as precious as my own

But, I’m alive and you are not

To me a path was shown

I’ve inherited your voices

I’m heir to your bright beacon

I will not turn away

My resolve will never weaken

I spend my inheritance freely

With loud pride from your source

I magnify it ideally

Your oppression no longer enforced

The lynching tree will bear no fruit

The crucifixion of branches

Will decay, not take root

It’s time to play with matches

Altar Building

Holy light ripples from one prayer to the next

Candle to candle

Continuous Hope lit liberally

From one heart to another

A sustainable support

To ease burdens

To celebrate joys

To guide one another

With wisdom and reverence

A catalyst towards Universal Love

Progress towards Justice

A beacon towards personal truth

A stable trust in sacred communion

Of torchbearing faith outwardly

Reflection of our own hearts

Rising like the morning mist in a meadow

Vacillation

Sometimes when I’m alone

feeling sorry for myself

Lonely for the company of another,

I think of you.

I look around and see artifacts

gathered around me like ghosts.

I remember how much we laughed.

But I also remember how much I cried.

I feel the warmth of your hand.

I feel a longing for what was; not what is.

I miss you terribly

but not enough to give up the happiness I’ve built.

I refocus on my own company

I think of everything I’ve accomplished since “we”

And yes, I still miss you, but you’ve become

a fond memory of abandoned dreams