Saturday, July 29, 2017

an 18th anniversary poem for my wife

look; i’ll keep trying new ways to say i love you
in these poems; i’ll keep searching for words –
stringing them into something beautiful, a necklace to
adorn your heart, or this moment, or the years

marriage takes to develop its true glory.
all that time, wear, and polishing
reinventing the surface of things.
if sometimes it is laboured, it is blessed
effort – how we apply ourselves to the task, true

verdict of the heart. where we house our passion
a breathe into it. where we build a home,
nourish it with actions alongside words, true

vestment, a cloak that clothes us with grace,
love the golden clasp holding us close
in the shadow of the future, the next day.
ever at work the hands, purposed 
the soul, the constant finishing of us.

Monday, July 24, 2017

it is okay to grieve

let me just remind you: it is okay to grieve.
it is okay to not know how one might find the way
to a better solution, or any solution.

it is okay that there are no words;
you’re still looking for them,
they are shadows on the walls of a cave,
fugitive and strange. you know what you want to say
but it is only with your body.
or rather, it is only in your body.
and maybe this is how silence speaks –
with the body, and whispers
about changes that are not chains.

and so embrace this grieving.
there is no point in thinking that
something on the edge of meaning
should not bear so much weight,
should not wield so much power,
should not be beyond words
and the way to name this moment.

you have a decision to make.
it is not an easy decision -
though no one ever promised you any easy decisions –
and the consequences are unknown.

write down the words and measure them.
or carry them in your hands to build a monument.
determine their worth.
take a breath.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

rings and arrows

She told me God said
I must marry her,
or he would end it.
I had already purchased the rings.
I wondered if there was a choice.
Sometimes is it good to be alone.

dream 1
we are running (together) from a crowd
they are chasing us and throwing stones at us
we enter a forest and dodge rocks and trees
I look ahead and see an archer, who
aims at me and lets the arrow loose
it (barely) misses me
I hear its zwip as it flies past my ear
I wake up

dream 2
we are running (together) from a crowd
they are chasing us and throwing stones at us
we enter a forest and dodge rocks and trees
I look ahead and see an archer, who
aims at me and lets the arrow loose
it does not miss
I feel its thud as it enters my ribcage,
pierces my heart
I wake up

The book said the priest shall take a wife in her virginity.
She was no virgin.
That hadn’t mattered before.
I’m not sure it matters now.

Friday, June 2, 2017

the weeping

Today, in the shower,
nursing my migraine,
as the hot water hit my neck,
I began weeping.
Weeping.

Years ago, after 3 accidents in 2 months,
I was getting a message and,

as the masseuse broke up the fascia,
I began weeping,
my body wracked with sobs
as she pressed out pockets of flesh
where I had stored fear.

Now, I sit in the dark
and close my eyes.
Lean my head back
and strain to hear your voice.
It has become so small.

Thursday, June 1, 2017

this is how

we gather in a circle
join hands
i’m going to pray now
i will pray in tongues
the language of heaven
bathe you in confusion
until something bubbles up
and i find the words

i would burn the incense
i would anoint the altar
i would sacrifice the lamb
but you would not understand
why i won’t let go
even now
i recite the words
half-believing them