Crumbs

Here's a few crumbs or anyone who might like them. They are neither deep nor that engaging, but they're something. You see, since I waited so long to post, I figured I should come up with something good--which then led me to further put it off. Well, here's what I got. There's more in the works. I think the difficulty is that I'm learning more of what good poetry is, but I can't seem to do that--like someone who loves colors but is still learning how to mix paint. Van Gogh obsessed about his colors until he found the one that stood off the canvas of his sunflower painting with an eerie, beautiful glow. While I wouldn't exactly want to end up like him, I understand his restlessness a bit. Poetry and art for me is both a place of repose and wrestling--much like prayer can be. It's the place we come to with our lives, yet the place that exposes the lack in our lives. All of this then, leaves us searching for more--for that something--we ultimately, finally, find in the un-stymied presence of our marvelous living God.  And then, art will consist, rather than with wrestling, with freedom and exploration of what it's like to be fully alive. I can't wait.


St. Valentine

Please, all this sugar hurts my teeth.

Leave it for the kids who've yet to have

cavities. Me? I've had many now just in my

twenties, but no abscesses or root canals. 

So pass the semi-sweet, just no more syrup

please--let true love be tastefully sweet so while

growing old together we'll still have our teeth.

The Rich Man

I relax

counting money not mine

to protect. I walk home

with peace in my pocket

instead.

No Ma'am, Not Yet Me

An excellent woman, who can she be?

The say she laughs at the future;

are you sure she's not just laughing at me?

Because I'm worried again

worried about nothing

about what storms aren't really coming.

An excellent woman, who is she?

Excuse me, ma'am; yes, you

the one with well-worked hands

to myself, the one with the college degree.

Do you have an elixir for me?