Desert-tan (a poem)

dear jesus, help me create

a life that’s noble,

not absorbed in the

hurry of moderns –

not clamoring for my

next fix – let my fix

be you, the real you

desert-tan & calloused feet

from walking miles &

healing wretches like me

(Photo by Robert Thiemann on Unsplash)

The Center of Things (a poem)

i’ve always admired monasteries

monks cloistered from total noise

alone with demons

swimming in silence & striving

for divine union that no one

can name, but only point

to, the center of things,

the seat of the soul

(Photo by Josh Couch on Unsplash)

Rejoice! (a poem)

come join this feast!

bring broken souls,

rejoice before a table of treats

we’ll set a fire above stones

dance around it

with wild guilt

watch us twist & turn –

shaman beat their chests

children laugh with glee

night falls, the fire rises

the feast at its last course

time for the children to hide

as we carry on

(Photo by Joshua Newton on Unsplash)

Note: This is a collaborative poem I did with Rachel. I wrote a couple lines and then she wrote a couple lines. We plan to do more and share them – it was fun!

Silence of Winter (a poem)

the silence of winter is not

such a terrible thing –

graying snowbanks by roadsides

reduced to slush & a thick sky

cold & like the finest cotton,

naked trees, dying leaves

hanging for dear life

reminding me of sledding down

icy hills, red plastic breaking

leaving shards to be buried below

like black bears snuggled in

warm caves

(Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash)

Hunger (a poem)

hunger inside for spiritual things

which the world cannot bring

for totality that never comes

& doesn’t exist in this dimension –

restless in this sack of flesh

yearning to be away from the present moment

& its insatiable demands

(Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash)

Salem (a poem)

I’ve spent centuries obsessed with evil

fingers bleeding from scrawling in notebooks,

searching for ways to banish it

to deep corners of space

away from us

where it takes souls,

twists them in black sorcery –

I wake up in Salem, trembling

witches burn, the smell of scalding flesh

the executioner removes his mask,

smiles – I fall into deep sleep

(Photo by Vladimir Agafonkin on Unsplash)

Dead Garden (a poem)

watching from the fire escape

I breathe in daylight, fresh air

a blue jay lands in a dead garden

her colors brilliant & offensive

dried leaves rustling like

fading nightmares

an urge to suck in colors before me

& vomit them back out

like the Destroyer God who

crushes galaxies in his hands

(Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash)

Cold Cemeteries (a poem)

the only freedom I want

is to break my ego’s chains

which confine me in cold cemeteries

to the dead,

who rise each night & breathe fire

only I can see,

who speak in a language

only I can understand,

telling me with certitude

I’ll join them soon

& also haunt the living

(Photo by Scott Rodgerson on Unsplash)