The Rain Fell Soft

She looked me dead in the eyes.
“I’ve always loved you,” she said.
The rain fell soft on the ground.
“No,” I said, “you never knew me,
And I’ll always regret you.”
She looked away.

A Psalm

You let me stand alone,
Like tall grass in the wind You let me blow about.
I am let to the whims of the wicked,
Victim of the judgments of they who would call themselves righteous.
Tell me again how You came to save me,
Save me from this plague that You let me into the world with.
This body is a cage,
And my wretched essence is no soul.
You have left me here to die,
You have left me to rot for the sins of my father’s father.
The men who claim to be Your sons,
Have given themselves to wickedness and hate.
You say that You will give me grace,
But I struggle to see Your gift as justice.
You are above all things,
But I have seen few things it is glorious to be above.
You say that You are love,
But I have not seen it displayed.
You have left me alone on a rock with a book,
That men tell me to read, and by men was writ.  

Chicken Soup

The truck rattles my house, the buckling sound as the bounce down the street crashes like thunder.  And I lie sick in bed thinking, "Chicken soup actually sounds pretty good right about now".

South For The Winter

I am the red eyes of a man in a photograph,

A square peg first introduced to a round hole.

I am abrasive like steel wool on dirty dishes,

The ottoman that Dick Van Dyke trips over,

A bear eating honey straight from the comb.

I am the sound of metal scraping against concrete,

A bowl of homemade guacamole with a hint of lime,

The place where conversation meets silence,

The brake drum from your first car.

I am the Eucalyptus tree that every koala bear hangs from,

Catching fireflies on warm August night.

I am afraid of what I may become,

Admiration mistook for mumbling.

I am the forgotten number twenty three,

The fireworks on Chinese New Year,

The itch on your back that you just can’t reach.