Nowhereland

Close my eyes, I shout surprise
In my head.
Holy bejesus, head seizures;
I’s travelling again!

God, rescrew it on correctly,
For I want to do all things per-fectly.

So why am I in nowhereland?
Thinking about things never promised me?
Why am I kicking it with unspoken wishes? It
‘s a waste of time, hear the clock chime
Twelve and again I wake myself
In, out of--this is not love, it’s
Nowhereland.

Fun fantasy, who wants to agree
With a waste of time.
Life is short and these trips are worse
Than lima beans or tsetse flies.

God, Your face is really all I need,
So kick me in the head when I disagree.

Cause I’m gassing up the car and traveling so far
Again to nowhereland
Mind’s a blank, just a full tank of gas.
I steady my heart, but then it sprints for the stars—
For a heaven unreal; oh God, what a rotten deal is
Nowhereland.
Eyes on You, God, keep this the truth.
You’ll bring blessings in your time.
So shut me up if you hear me whine.
I trust, I must, You’ve got good stuff
And it’s enough to keep my head instead of traveling to
Nowhereland.

The Thank You Song

Today I'm thanking you
Come wind or rain or shine
Because You are You
I'm not going to let this world stop me
From thank you thank you thank you

Thanks for the check I got for work
Thanks for the books I sold
Thanks for the yogurt I ate that was delicious
Thank you for a brand new set of wishes
I'm wishing on You

I don't care what they throw at me
A dreary world is not my reality
Because I know who You are
And I know the truths close to my heart
And You're pizza with extra sauce
You're a wad of spending money
You're a red convertible
You're a spellbound audience
You're raisin bread toast,
And You're everything....

So thanks, thank you, gracias, merci,
Hats off to Father God,
You rock oh God,
So thank you thank you thank you thank you...

Hiding Place(dodoitsu)

Even now, in the morning,
When my heart cries for Your voice,
Even while I wander these fields,
You still hide from me.

The Hiding Girl(Limerick)

There was a girl so fond of hiding
Her only communication was in writing.
Her parents, who kept her writing notes,
Clung to doomed but still-rising hopes
Some young man'd find her scrawl enticing.

Confession(dodoitsu)

I don't understand this art.
Maybe those old Japanese
Samurai just used their swords
On their sentences.

Rejection(Limerick)

It was late in the morning of the day I was peddling,
I was accosting the customers, and sick of meddling,
Said I, "Lovely lady,
"My manners are not shady,"
Before you too pass, pretty lass, eye I, oh so piddling?"

Her hair was drawn up with Japanese sticks but her eyes
Past gobs of eyeliner was stuff finer, even regal, but shy.
This queen, oh so tender,
Put out a hand, so slender...
Made a fist, then her highness gave my request a reply.

Who Knows

I might've seen her smile,
The color of her eyes,
Maybe we'd share a sunset,
Maybe, later, a sunrise.

And sitting there beside her,
I'd regrets I'd never made.
For I knew, so dreadfully sure,
How soon she'd go away.

We were totally incompatible,
Obvious in a glance,
Staggeringly stupid gamble,
One in a a million chance.

Still enchanted by her dimples,
Immobile in my chair,
But I knew better than to speak.
So she left me sitting there.

Later I traveled home,
Her face still in my mind,
I remained ruminating alone
With the world I'd left behind.

Writing Block

Let's blank, let's freeze, put our minds
In a bind.
Let's panic and frantic, scrabble for a way
To somehow say
Whatever we can find.

Let's think, let's blink to fill up empty spaces
On our faces.
Let's type all night and erase every word,
Until sleep-driven, we've given with speech slurred
All we have, all we can think of,
Which isn't anything to love.
So delete, repeat, and crumple up
And again with the eraser.

Man, do I hate
Grappling till late
With a writing block.

So let's revolt after revising
Rising hopes before we read
What we wrote on our note.
Eyes bleary, it's clearly
Time for revolt indeed.
Let's take arms against our muse;
Let's go to bed.

Show and Tell

Acting class
And the teacher was a frank atheist
And all eyes on me.

How could they ask me to do this?
Inside a storm of wills,
And all eyes on me.
I moved not a whit.
Very, very still.

"Perhaps if you tried telling instead of showing us?"

So I did. I moved. I told.

I shared:
Seventeenth birthday.
Asking for a song.
A silent, secret prayer.

I shared:
My seventeen year old fingers,
Picking up my birthday card,
The paper fluttering out.

I shared:
My mother pulling out her guitar,
For a newly seventeen John.
Birthday paper in her hand
Headlined by words: "John's Song".

Now, today, in class,
All eyes on me,
On my private memories.
On a Heaven sent song,
On a miraculous answer to prayer.
On a devout side I closet at all costs.

It's unfair they chose this memory.
It's unfair my profession demands
Even my secrets.

I struggle to keep talking.
Even voice and still face.
I show, I tell. I sing.

Curious(tritina)

Curious, and how! spring wakes the senses.
Hard, unyielding, frozen by winter, life
Births again a promise bright. Curious.

Seasonal cycles catch me curious.
Winking world, you beckon me. Consensus
Would whisper I, too, greet a bright new life.

Do you, too, breathe in this beginning life?
Oh, feel the tug, the heart wake. Curious,
Daring, glaring, foolishly sensuous.

Now all I sense is life. I’m curious.

Apart

Long, long have I wandered through fields not my own.
I'm a man with no county, a child with no home;
Wonder, do you, from whither I wander?
Oh, indeed, whither,
For I am not of the foxes or fishes or birds of a feather
That, when given chance, will each gather together...
For long have I hushed footfalls in bold, brazen tread
Of the saints, with their saintly visions lifting my head.
And, lest the running should rouse and ruffle the dead,
(These corpses are my friends and familiars, or so they've said,)
Have I hidden my heavenly haunt, have I misled.
Until only the closet knows of these wide, searching eyes
Crying for my beloved and searching the skies.
And I am so hounded, so horrifically pressed
Lest all that matters bow to matter and be missed,
Lest my longings stray from heaven, must I persist,
Until worn, torn, unbeaten but bowed
I open hands and let my heart cry loud,
Crying:
"Oh, Father, hear me,
None knows of my searchings,
None but You knows my pursuit.
What else do You want from me?
What else can I do?
Long, long have I wandered through fields not my own.
I'm a man with no county, a child with no home;
I've given all that I know, and I'm still apart from You."

Sometimes I Wear My Cape to Work

They asked me: “how do you do it?”
And I said: “Oh, it wasn’t so hard.
“I just bent my knees and blew it
“Reaching for the stars.

Sometimes I never hear it coming,
But when my dreams give the call,
I always hit the pavement running
And run into the nearest wall.

I’m a secret super slip-up,
Wouldn’t find more super if you searched.
I like to keep it on, you know, the down-low,
But sometimes I wear my cape to work.

Doc(a dodoitsu)

Hopeful, he strayed to my side
--Limping beagle with brown eyes.
Woken from black reverie,
I knew he was mine.

A Way Beyond

He came to me from afar
While snow swirled outside,
He came with stories of a distant place.
Some say he chased an Eastern star,
Some say he flat-out lied,
But I listened and saw the truth upon his face.

And he said:
Hey, boy, what's it all about?
Don't you know this life you live goes away, hey?
Hey, boy, it's time to step out of the crowd,
Grope and grasp, pray and fast, but find it today
A Way beyond your ways.

He came back again while showers fell,
He came back to me once more
While the scent of rainbows hung heavy in the air.
He came back with more hope to tell,
He came wielding a sword,
And leaving, the life I knew left me there...

For he said:
Hey, boy, what's it all about?
Don't you know this life you live goes away, hey?
Hey, boy, it's time to step out of the crowd,
Grope and grasp, pray and fast, but find it today
A Way beyond your ways.

Bloom

Sometimes the words–they just don’t come.
Mouth gaping, mind racing, my world’s washed in white….
All is a blank.

Finger poised over delete,
My fist is in my mouth
Lest my mouth contain my feet.

Father, even in this stillness,
I can scream so loud, standing lonely in a crowd.
Father, even when I’m trapped
I still find the room to fight. “I can do this, just–give me time.”

Time’s up.

God of Heaven,
God of earth,
I have had enough.

Bloom, Father, let me grow
Complete and holy in Your teachings,
Bloom, Father, I let go,
You alone can give me what I’m seeking.

So plant a seed, plant deep inside
Deep down where only secrets hide.
And sprout a longing, a love, a need
To be with the God in which I believe.

Let the page be blank, be open, pure.
And now, to mix my metaphors,
Bloom.

something really awful

It seems the time to write has come,
So I'm led to believe, though deaf and dumb,
My ears aren't as sharp as they may have been before;
I've forgotten to use the whetstone with a mind towards the Lord...

So here am I, watching myself, watching films of myself,
And how very odd--
If You'll permit me God--
To watch me as though I were someone else.

Oh, boy, my thoughts and here, there and thither tonight,
Scattered and battered and untethered tonight,
I keep writing bad rhymes, my meter's out of line,
Oh, God, what shall I do with myself?!

So, it seems to the time to write has come,
And here I am, both deaf and dumb,
Straining for words that I've already heard,
Straining for wisdom I already know...

How I'm scattered tonight.

Believing in a Haunted House

The fear is always nameless
I'm not sure I'd name it if I could
Like a serpent coiled in my gut
I open my mouth in soundless screams.

Fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut,
I'm prostrate on this sitting couch
Crying: "Father, hear the words I cannot say,"
"Father, know me and that I am not enough."

But somewhere, soft as butterfly wings
I can hear a silent song begin to sing
Somewhere where only divine dwells
Lies a glory that even I cannot tell.

Teeth gritted, my face a grimace
Know how afraid I am yet to be alone.
Crying: "Oh, Father, I need Your help."
Crying: "Father, I am not enough."

But, Father, the night creatures come biting
With wordless whispers of their own.
They lie about me, encircling me, waiting
I can see their eyes gleaming
I can hear my heart beating.

Waiting for me to fall,
Waiting for me to step into the unknown,
Waiting for me to fall.

I squeeze shut my eyes again
I can see a glory in my mind's eye,
"Oh, Father, help."

The Business of Doing

The business of doing
Is a pretty business indeed;
The business of wanting,
Of pursuing a need.

For in a business so mindless
Your Spirit can come creeping, seeping in.
Elsewhere I begin to find less
If I get busy thinking again.

Hungry

Living in a world of black and white.
I’ve given up my hunger for the night.
I’ve laid to rest my wondering and wandering,
The muddled, befuddled strain of pondering.
I’ve come to rest against my laurels,
For, Father God, You know I’m mortal,
And one certainty is that I know it, too.
God, I hope I’m not supposed to figure out
What this thing called life should be about.
Because, frankly, God, even now I wish I knew.

Give me a knowing of Your love,
Put this in my heart like a rock.
Give surety to a seeker of above;
Grant release to laboring thought.

Fill up my world with sure realities,
Fill up my rainbow with brilliant hues.
Fill my imaginings till You’re all I see,
A sanctum of sensations gloriously true.

Age Is Relative

They keep telling me I am not young;
Though my meter's childish, simple, dumb.

And despite my rhyming scheme being equally laughable
The impression is impressive. Ancient. It's incredibly baffable.

I'm not partial to the parts I keep performing onstage:
A young man's father. A guy creeping into old age.

Yet here am I, eyes wide, fingers still open and grasping
For something to cling to. Life is still leaving me gasping.

So! Yesterday I decided to relinquish a thousand hidden fears,
To shout and step out and shave off Bob Cratchit's beard.

For old age is ever relative: uncle, aunt, father, mum;
Such a distant relation, for today I am young.

Decidedly a Believer

I've decided to call my blog a blog
And decided to call my heart all Yours.
I've decided deciding is rubbish and nonsense
After deciding to keep my heart open. Plus pure.

I've decided a decider for deciding was needed
After decidedly deciding God's decisions were moot.
After decisions You decided decided my derailment,
I decided I was destined for the debunking the truth.

But that was before, and this is definitely now.
Decidedly. Re assuredly. Definitely. Yes.
'Cause my decider's decisions were destructive. And how.
So I decided indecision was better. I guess?

In other words, I decided believing Your decisions
Were made for my better and not for, you know, my worse,
So I'll be leaving deciding for believing and more:
Plus receiving. And peace. Plus loving. Throw in mirth.

Or Joy. Whatever the technical word for that is--
I haven't decided. Just whatever term fits--
I'll go back to looking up instead of the other way;
So cheer up, it'll clear up; just enjoy the day.

Monsters

God, if You want to know the truth:

I thought I could do it on my own.
Thought I could figure the unknown.

Now: like a child, who understands
Monsters do lay in wait under his bed,
I have become a frightened man
Who can't seem to get out of his head.

God, if You want to know the truth:
So do I.

Waiting

It's You.
Before everything else.
Before the yearnings of myself
Comes You.

You.
You guide and move the shapes of my life.
You have always been worth the price.
Because I know You're value,
Because I know You're worth--
Like rainbow in the heavens;
Like a cry of a new birth;
--Is beyond:

I will wait with heart fast beating,
I will stay my restless heart.

To wait for You.