Poems (Old)

Table of Contents

  1. Alabaster Jars and Other Things
  2. American Passports
  3. April 7th
  4. Colorado Dreams
  5. Everything Now
  6. Faith and Doubt and Get Out Of Jail Free Cards
  7. God is Good
  8. Haha
  9. Is Falling
  10. Mancini’s Misty – Remastered
  11. On Comedy
  12. On Hiking Eagle Rock Loop
  13. Poet (Sometimes)
  14. Symphonies
  15. Today, Everyone Is Atlas
  16. Tres Leches Cake
  17. Will the rumor persist?

Mancini’s Misty – Remastered

(To be read along to the tempo of Manicini’s Misty – Remastered)

I spy
two birds floating along to Mancini’s Misty – Remastered,
absent minded, feathered flourishes over rolling concrete rivers.

The world slows as I
break for a red light.
The inertial moment, halting stop,
followed by complete stillness, in which
the fullness of time
seems to pass through my mind’s eye,

and I wonder at this life.

I wonder why I
am unhappy
and why I
am content
with my unhappiness

I wonder why I
think those birds
know something I
do not.

I wonder why I
am searching for meaning
so unsuccessfully.

I wonder why I…

The light turns green and I
ease on the gas and drive
over the interstate
where passing souls
seem but a blur
as they speed along to
the rhythm of life, like
a person tapping their feet

Today, Everyone Is Atlas

The wearying weight of the world,
of the celestial skies
Crashes down this day on friend and foe alike

The acrid absurdity of it all, a hopeless and hapless haze
Resting heavy on everyone
For in this hour all have become akin to Atlas.

Each now bearing a burden beyond one’s ability to do so alone.
Death, despair, drowning
Under the devastation of a young one returning to dust before his time.

Hope. Can the rumor really be true?
Faith. How can this be anything but the end?
Love. Does it remain?


But I’ve heard a rumor that the tolling bells will eventually tell a different tale.
Today their peals pierce painfully real. But soon,
and very soon,
A wedding song will rise along with those who weep and mourn,
For they will be comforted
And the rumor will be rightly revealed as true.

This is not the end.

Though darkness rules this day,
Even still, somehow, I believe
Everything is going to be ok.
And these three will still remain.
But the greatest of these is….

Colorado Dreams

But these mountains stand as a testament,
to, well, something, and
Whatever it is, it certainly cannot be nothing.

Their grandeur speaks of unfinished poems
Of chilly mornings rising to the awakening light
Of evenings spent in anxious frustration
working on papers and projects late into the night

In short, these mountains speak of life.

And I am bound today
to be driving away
from them
to a land of plains.

Is Falling

The call resounds:

“Fallen, fallen is Babylon.
All the images of its gods
Lie shattered on the ground.”

And I lie with them

and fallen

For I had leapt from
Pessimistic precipices,
and cynical summits

Plummeted past
Clouds of doubt
That lasted too long

and tumbled toward
the high place
landing near a rolling mountain meadow
filled with the refuse and remnants
of my own past images

I have been lying broken and open for a while
wondering who will piece me back together
and what I will look like

Poet (Sometimes)

I just
I definitely
try to
that isn’t
I just
Need to

and breathe in everything that is filling my space

And sometimes, I need to just exist

Will the rumor persist?

When the conversation ends,
And even night turns in its weary head,
When time itself comes to a startling halt
And people everywhere are left in between,

Will the good word still flow from my broken mouth? 
Will my heart be found resting by a well in this wasteland? 
Will I still believe that everything is going to be ok? 

In short, will my belief in God, remain? 

Either it’s some of the best brainwash tactics in history,
Or, God, you really are out there listening. 


April 7th (or, there’s a temple somewhere in nw okc) 

The air hung heavy there by my hammock,
and all noise, suddenly being stifled, ceased, 
And could not pierce the veil surrounding me.
The sounds instead
all dropped dead

Pregnant with unending possibility 
sprung forth in this holy of holies
And all the world seemed to wait 
while I 
discoursed with the divine. 


On Hiking Eagle Rock Loop

The beat of my hiking feet
Match the tune of this winding trail
And while my hesitant heart
Lacks what I want most:

At least today
I can both taste and see
That everything is going to be ok



If Dawkins is right, 
Then all I hear at night 
is the universe laughing at me,
And all the stars and planets and sunsets and ocean waves I see
are surely joining in 
and fooling humanity
In the most absurd trick ever played


Faith and Doubt and Get out of Jail Free Cards

how many times can I return to genuine faith 
before I’ve used up all my get out of jail free cards?

And if I’ve doubted you before,
why not again? 
If I’ve almost walked away once
what’s to keep me locked in? 

If every prayer of mine 
Though lately, few and far between,
Starts and ends with question marks,
Then how many more prayers can I pray 
Till you and I take our separate ways?

But I think You came and ripped up all my silly cards, 
You stepped into my house 
And your words gripped my heart,
You grabbed me by my shoulders, and are shaking me down 
of all the needless things I thought I needed now

Like certainty, answers
Sweet Sleep at night
Making sure my belief is 100% right
and I feel you going with me,
though you are not always in sight

And I believe you will always walk with me
Even as I wade through this crippling doubt


Everything Now, pt 1&2 & pt 3&4
(11/10/2018, 11/24/2018)


And this is my fight
Every night
To eschew darkness
By choosing light

Even as
shadows fall and enshroud
Both sights and sounds

To hold on and refrain
despite my mental strain
From wandering down
The wide and maddening lane
That lessens this lonely pain

And this is my fight.

But my fight
To reject the dark
And to walk and live in light
Surpasses even this lonely night.

Each moment I say no
To everything now
and the easy way out
I’m saying yes
To what is good
And clutching tightly to
what I know is true

And this is my fight.
And this is your fight.
And this is, also, our fight.

Pt. 2

I wonder when
Eve and Adam
bit into
that sacred fruit,

could it be
they reached too eagerly
for something that was
to be given at a later time?

The knowledge of good and evil
after all,
is a good thing to have,
some might even say,
Makes us human.

But, perhaps they acquired it and desired it
apart from God’s way and timing?

Perhaps they wanted
everything now,
and sweet convenience
Rather than sitting at the feet
Of the one who could teach
The difference between good and evil

and could it be
ever since then
humanity’s problems stem
from this covetous bundle of desires
within us all
That slips and seeks its way
into getting things

We want everything now
and the easy way out,
and fortunately,
somebody came
to show us a better way.
To be the better way for us
even when our crouching bundle of desires
gets the best of us.


And even when
our bundle of desires wins
and guilt starts creeping in
Still I will remind myself
Of how it all will end

Not with a bang, or even a whimper
But rather, a peculiar silence
momentary, fleeting,
filled with a deep breath
And exhalation

Which will ignite
and cause flames to spread
Over the earth
Until even death is dead.

Because I know such a truth:
The reaping
of what my sinful self
Is sowing,
Will only be met with glorious redemption
After all has been said
And written

Yes, this truth keeps me here
Keeps me set firmly
In the earth and dirt
When my desires
Wish to flee and skirt
The way in which I must walk.

When my desires push me toward
Everything now
And the easy way out.
Still I will cling tightly to
What I know is true.


And this has been our fight
From the beginning

From plastic straws
To needlessly gas guzzling cars

From endless Netflix binging
To making sure our tribe is winning

From instant access pornography
To drive thru fast food eateries

Could it be that we are fighting
More so for sweet convenience
And everything now
Instead of considering how
We might walk in the way set before us?

Could it be
we are reaching too eagerly
For things to be given under different timing?

And this is our fight
Every night
To eschew darkness
By choosing light

And this has been our fight
From the beginning
And this will be our fight
Until that quiet and emblazoned ending.


American Passports

And one day soon in coming
We will all forget
Our american passports
At heaven’s gate
in our mad dash
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord’s face

And one day
soon in coming
We will all take a quiz
on who exactly God is
one of us will flunk.

But it won’t matter, because
the test will pass through the
flames and burn to ash,
and we will
still get to gaze upon the
beauty of the Lord’s face
in his temple
because someone has already taken the test and passed.

And one day
soon in coming
A thin blue flame will catch the corner of the earth,
as a flame catches the corner of a paper,
and all things will be burned
And not yet consumed
As the fire spreads and fills the world.
what is good will be retained
while the slag will be removed.

The internet servers storing pornography
will be consumed
as will the needles in the streets
where heroin addicts sleep.

The dollar bills collecting dust in bank vaults
and the dollar bills shoved into old mason jars,
buried underneath the oak tree
will all be consumed
in the thin blue flame.

All the ashes will be gathered, collected
And then scattered over the face of the earth
fertilizing the ground
and life will emerge
from what was once opposed to life.
Beautiful gardens filled with fruit will grow
for man and woman to pass through and stroll
as they go to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord’s face
in his temple.

and this day is soon in coming.

when it arrives, everything sad will come untrue
everything that was once lost will be found,
and everything will be ok, too.

And we will gaze upon the beauty of the Lord’s face
in his temple.
And our American passports will have long been turned to ash.


God Is Good

I saw a homeless man
on my way home from work

He was holding a sign
That said “God is good.” Amen, right?

Now I’m no fool,
But that seemed odd,

Because why would God
Seem good to him who has no home?

And further,
If I may bother,

Why would God
seem far off and Away

To me,
When every day
I get to come home and stay?

How could God let himself be
So easily accused

Standing idly by,
As children are abused

All the while, I
Am losing my life in the land of the free?

So I guess I’m a little confused,
Because sometimes,

God does not seem good to me.

And yet somehow I know
that homeless man’s message is true.


Symphonies (Or, On Hiking Butterfield Trail in Arkansas)

The trees have come out for the symphony.
The rain drips and drops, splashing and pattering.
and the trees – they stand patiently
and the rain- it opens for the featured flute solo
and the soloist comes out,
as the birds emerge,
singing, playing, audience or no
knowing their song and tune
reaches far along
the river banks and dried up falls,
past bluffs and crags and clay
passing painted flowers along its way
finally reaching my weary ears
ears worn from sapping sounds
from the hum of traffic patterns
and construction workers.
From melodies overplayed
As I try to reach that mental escape.

Yes, the tune reaches my ears
refreshing and turning my thoughts
to the beauty around

I lose myself
in the beauty around

I hike on and I hear
All nature in turn,
turn to me and whisper softly
Into my resurrecting ears:

“We don’t mind you stopping
to stay for a while
But if you go
Please go quietly.”


On Comedy

Forget Seinfeld and Murphy
Turn on Fox News and MSNBC

Place them side by side
During prime time

And you’ll get your comedy


Alabaster Jars and Other Things

We all
As alabaster jars
containing fragrant things
Stumble and tumble
Somewhat dangerously through this life
Walking the line
“I’m doing fine”
And “just trying not to break” –
Afraid of spilling our insides out
For others to take
Advantage of
And yet
In our breaking
Something beautiful happpens:
Fragrance fills the world
gracing others as it swirls
Around and about.

A woman came to Jesus once
And broke her alabaster jar.
Anointing the messiah,
She broke herself open
offering up her valued possession
As the disciples were watching –
Poking and prodding

And taking…

And Jesus said to her
“This is a beautiful thing you have done
Wherever the gospel is preached in my Name
What you have done will also be proclaimed
Your aroma will permeate my story, my gospel
For all to inhale and to encounter the Divine.”

We all
As alabaster jars
containing fragrant things
Stumble and tumble
Not nearly as dangerously
Through this life
As we ought

For in our breaking
The world
Encounters the divine face
in passing aromas,
hints of grace

(Mark 14:3-9)


Tres Leches Cake

I saw my savior being crucified
just the other day

I saw him portrayed on an electronic billboard sign
He was bloodied, battered, and hung up to die
pictured passionately crucified
Hands nailed and arms spread wide
with nothing but a hurricane-force love in his eyes

The sign read – I love you this much

And before I could process the imagery
of my savior dying for you and for me

the electronic billboard sign flashed on to another advertisement

By the way, did you know Ted’s is now serving Tres Leches Cake?
I can already hear someone, “It’s to die for….”

I saw my savior being crucified
just the other day.


2 thoughts on “Poems (Old)

    1. I wonder if it has to do with power? If you see my broken for all that I am, there is a sense of giving over control and power not just to what’s being broken for (Jesus), but also that power is given up to those who see the breaking (Disciples), whether we want them to or not.


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