Friday, January 24, 2020

Black tar

When will God change my story
From one of disgusting ugliness
shattering pain
Illness
Weakness
Chaos
Heartlessness
To something else

How did I get to this place?
I was never choosing
The bad
I was staying faithful
Why then am I plagued
With torment that is merciless

A tortured soul
Writhing on the ground
Bleeding black
Sticky tar
That is my heart. Jesus
Cares for it

I saw a glance of Infinite light
Approaching the rotten
Somehow desiring it
Shining on it
And that’s a life changing truth
Tethering my powerful feelings
To the ground

Thank goodness for miracles
Thank goodness for unreasonable love
That should not be in this place
But is
How can someone fall in love with filth
And say to the muck “I love you.”
I am surprised to be romanced
Swept off of my sore feet
Into safety
Flattered beyond reason
Into my rescuers strong arms
My knight in shining armor
Sweet Love itself.

Can I stay with thee a little longer
Can I rest in the warmth of your body
For another moment
To feel your heart beating against mine
Your arms are warming my chest
Can you hold me until I am warm too?
please stay.

Like a creature chasing a pure wolf

A little creature
Ghastly to look at
Sticky, moldy, muddy, and gross
Disgusting in every which way
Messy and contagious
Sloppy and ugly
Like a bloody disease which contaminates
Chases a white wolf
Pure frosty fur rippling in the wake of the wind
Strong and muscular from practice and running
With icy eyes that pierce and strengthen
And teeth that can slice through gristle
The wolf knows that it’s strong
And powerful and pure and graceful
It runs

It runs from something so weak
So slow and pathetic and dangerously contaminating
Because it is disgusted
Because it is the only thing the wolf finds terrifying
To be anything other than a pure strong noble wolf
To be caught in that sticky trap is beneath the wolf
The wolf must stay in the land of ice and snow
Of cold and purity
Of clear skies and sharp edges
Of no growth but winterscape
This wolf knows his home
This creature would try to catch the wolf and make it his slave
This creature would hurt him
This creature would make him sick.

Leave me alone!”, commands the wolf to the wretched thing
It hides behind a rock
Paranoid, the wolf continues to run from the sticky mess
He will not stop running for many miles until his muscles have reached their limits and he collapses in an icy cave
He will protect himself from any intruders
He will build an absolute impenetrable shelter from ice
And finally, even the mighty wolf will rest

At last at peace.

Thursday, January 16, 2020

Grateful

Grateful for the emotion
Grateful for the fear
Grateful for the anger
Grateful for the tears
Grateful for the freedom to be
Grateful for my life
Grateful for my fingers
Grateful that I feel intense pain

Scared of the numb
The incomprehensible, uncontrollable, big
fog passing over
creeping into every cell of my nervous system
No Feeling, Thinking,
Doing
It numbs my whole body, my mind, my heart
and in doing so
Paralyses me in every way
I am the strong man tied up
Invaded by
An unwelcome void.
A temporary non-existence
You are nothingness.

Grateful that when tears stream down my face
And I can't contain the life in me
That the life is there
That I am here
I am.


Shell

Does a ship ever stop floating
Does its sail tear?
And if it tears, will it die?
Will it keep on living?

A shell is sad
A bear is crying
A unicorn, this fantastical beast is comforting the poor creature.
A porcelain baby crawls delicately, but joyfully on his heaving back
And sinks him deeper into the ground.
By a pool.

She has nothing to give but an image.
A beautiful, angelic, and eternal portrayal
A masterpiece of beauty
A carefully constructed dream

And under the ground
Hidden beneath the pool
Is a shell
Dead
Weeping tears that nothing living will see
And why should a shell weep
When it is the only thing that is not alive anymore.

Bury
Bury
Bury

Until only the angel remains.
I will join the infant in its delicacy
In its primitive world before it was born.
To a place where it cannot be hurt.
Cannot have spina bifida

And I will be there.
Safe in the place before my life ended.
Like a photograph preserved
In time forever.

Just leave the shell alone.
Perhaps it is not there anymore anyway.

Wednesday, October 9, 2019

Calling

The memory of your voice
Is like rushing down a hill
down
down
Down into the very depths of the earth
That I grew from

To dust
From dust
I am dust
I am spirit
I am Patricia
And you called me Patricia.

When you said the most beautiful part of me
Your sound made Patricia
I laughed I cried
I was
I was not
Patricia rose from dust into herself

I have no words for such a phenomenon
to describe how you create a soul
You see it and it is
You speak it and it is
You say Patricia.
Here I am.

Tangled Walls

She smiles with eyes that are hollow and dark
I peer into the deep, eternal canyon
There is hunger that scares me
I'm afraid of her fear
And muted opinions and
Time ticks by

She chuckles 
Quietly wiping the crumbs from her mouth
With one small sweep of the napkin
Her subtly trembling hands
With eyes void of crackling warmth
Obey a quieter voice that speaks nothing

Let me in, let me in!
Tangled walls from her mind maze
Stand irrationally firm
As I push with my power
To bring peace and salvation
To the dying child
Who silently waits to become no more

Her posture is straightened
Her quick comments are practiced
She waits and speaks without error
Dancing and prancing and laughing
Between all my questions
She avoids an unknown terror

And I wonder
What lives in the depth of her eyes?
Oh to explore that dark wonderland,
A private territory space!
But there's no path, no door
What resides in the warren?

Stay away, stay away
She yells from her hallowed ground!
Summoning last amounts of strength
As I approach
She can’t afford to be unsure
Her heart is her own.

Monday, September 23, 2019

A fiery night

He screams
He shrieks
He punches
He kicks
He claws
He crawls

He is an angel
He is a demon
He is a creature
He is my son

How does one mother an animal
Whose only instinct is to hunt, run, or hide
From terrors that are unclear

It cannot be reasoned with
It will not allow rescuing
It will not hear blessings, only curses
Whose body was built to endure fire and torment

Crossing into his world
Can only stab my chest
As I watch my once-newborn
Mercilessly devoured by searing flames
Under a cruel ruler's order
The beast has had his fill

His mouth drips with the blood of my children
My heart turns to stone as I desire one thing
His punishment

God give him the justice that he deserves
Train him to stop feasting on innocence
And consuming the little hope in my son
That I have toiled for