Sacrifice

breath-
breath-
breath-
with me
let it be
......the child is delivered now
safe from ocean sounds
Sacrifice-
the sacred cup
the search lights taken up
take this
it is in memory of me
let it be
my body
given up
a father's love
a father's dead
a child lives.
We're looking out for one another
we are children-dread eclipsed
with reaching hands and trembling lips.
Teach me to walk upon the water and hold me
in the Spring.

http://www.wwmt.com/articles/newschannel-1379407-father-nine.html

Nighttime

Ocean sounds
waves crash
disolve sand around my skin
and suck me under
--don't take me under--
...all the way
I'm afraid of the dark
There's no air in my lungs
when I think about yours
soaked, submerged.
God don't let him drown
Don't let me drown
Don't take us in the night--
we've got the lamb's blood on our door.

Confession

I used you.
I'm sorry, it's true
I thought you knew
I thought you did it too.

I used you for the way you made me feel
I used you for the words you didn't mean
I used you for your finger tips and eyes
I used you for your arms, your moves, your looks

I used you for your presence
I used you for your scent
I used you for your awkwardness
I used you for your hair

I used you for your company
I used you for your laugh
I used you for your boyish charm
I used you just for you

And though I know it's said and done
I feel I have to say
that I used you so you'd use me
in every selfish way.

An Ode

Rejection-
a bitter pill
that I have swallowed-
the dreaded draught
that even I,
willingly,
administered to others.

I shrink to think-
the damage done-
by my own hands,
the symptoms fanned:
heart complications,
bleeding internal,
trouble to breathing,
skin flushed inferno.

My director.

A crusty old man was he, with watery eyes rubbed red, and the scratchy white stubble of a beard. He had the altogether appearance that he had crackled out of a dried ocean bed, emerging from beneath shallow sand that stuck to his oily pores. His face, crevices and sun-bleached, splintered like drift wood. His mind was lost at sea.

Spark

Blink--
and you might miss
the cheek that once you kissed.

Stop the rhyming already...

I'm mad at
the static
that's sticking
these sickening
poems together.

To #5

You took me in the light of spring
you broke me in the dim of fall
and now that I have learned to sing
you think that you can have it all.

Piano keys

956.

Gold and shimmering--
I wept tears.
It was a human shape against a crystal sea
when the great light came over me.


957.

Not until the sun rises, warm and orange, gold and shimmering, over the crystal sea, can I see the darkness of the night before the dawn. I slept--was unaware--when the kingdom came.Silence crept into my vision. Shame bleed into cold. I drank the honey of the glamorous and became like the mud; heaving, hiding, hoarding--the silence--was I exposed--uncovered--unknown--a face in millions. I hid because I was naked.

Understand

Be close enough to me that
you can feel
the colors in my heart.
Be close enough to me that I can feel
the color inside you--
and understand.

Stillness

Hush blue bird
flutter not your
sorrows--
ruffle not your
feather tresses--
for stillness is inherent in
the heart when trapped with patience.
Motion is a thing of earth--
not for one in flight.

Apocalypse Now

It is strange, but for some reason, the apocalypse keeps coming up in my life. I hear about it on the radio--a multitude of Christians who listen to JQ 99 believe that Christ is coming again, soon (not a unique disposition, as Christians have been expecting such a coming every generation since the crucifixion), movies are being made about it, but most creepishly--I've been having dreams about it.

The first one was steeped in the book of Revelations. I dreamed that the world was in chaos, and amid the blunder and bustle, a man was sacrilegiously handing out large portions of the sacred host. "Who wants more bread?" Crumbs were everywhere, and arrows seared past my face as assassins attempted to shoot down the Pope. I grasped at the arrows--catching them in mid air, and breaking them in half. Despite my best efforts, the Pope was brought down by a splintered piece.

A couple nights ago, I dreamed the earth was being wrecked by giant hurricanes and tornadoes and my family was forced to flee our home. We left in the van with only a couple of our possessions. Not long after, my parents vanished, and Erika, Ansel and I were forced to act as parents to our little brother, Weston, and a baby that I found. Hiding in the confines of an abandoned house, we shrunk before multiple explosions--staying away from shattering glass and falling dishes. We were exhausted with terror--then finally, after a cataclysmic explosion that pounded the earth to its very molten core, the terror dissipated--burned away like fog by daylight. We rose to the window and beheld a calm ocean where there had once been a highway, and across the ocean was the most beautiful castle I'd ever seen. High towers, silver stone walls, sparkling mist, and a moat of clear sea. In an instant, we blew over the water as feathers in a breath of wind, and clung inside the castle in perfect contentment and shining joy.