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.  

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.

Day 6 Draft 6

Untitled

To me you are a sparkling bride in white,
That in her folly rolls in mire and murk,
Betraying He who called you forth to light,
And gladly choosing tasks for which to shirk,
You sit atop a tower looking down,
And insults fling at simple passers by,
You barricade your doors to shine your crown,
And leave convictions where they fall and lie,
And I ashamed to be compared with you,
Abandon all the vestiges of old,
And though I try to stand among the few,
You push me out and leave me in the cold,
The course you claim to take off often veer,
You are the empty shadow in a mirr’r,

Day 5 Draft 5

Title of my work

My life told in ten Haiku

And this does not count

Bright lights shining down

Naked crying and icky

I came from the womb

Time for switching schools

They call me fat and new kid

I’m not a big fan

Big man in the sky

Invisible creator

Sounds interesting

Women are bitches

So long as they are like Britt

Epitome of whore

Mother is crying

My father gives me a hug

I’m off to college

It is the abyss

It is the Fear and Trembling

It’s the real, it’s doubt

I always lov’d you

Lauren you are my only muse

But I can’t tell you

Beer books basketball

I find that I am changing

Let’s open a bar

Isle across the sea

A four leaf clover dream world

Mine for the taking

Mother Father Friends

Brother Sister and Baby

All waiting back home

Title Pending

Your fingers interlaced with mine,

Just like our souls are intertwined,

Your lungs filling with air so sweet,

Our bodies interchanging heat,

The way your lips taste in the rain,

The slightest hint of cheap champagne,

The haunting scent of your auburn hair,

Your pale shoulders naked and bare,

The way your eyes gleam in the light,

The way I held you close at night,

The warmth of your breath inside my ear,

My thumb, your check, a lonely tear,

Your voice still on the telephone line,

The packages in paper and twine,

Your sweater that still reeks of sin,

And every back seat we’ve been in,

The love letters you never received,

The son we accidently conceived,