Where does the day go?
I haven’t checked things off my list
Look around, there’s tons I’ve missed,
The garden still needs weeding
The baby still needs feeding
I’ll let Jodi handle that one
But there so much more undone.
The cluttered chaos on the ground
Doesn’t make me feel unwound
I don’t want to pick up my shoe
and place it neatly out of view
But when you act on “I don’t want to”
Then it’s just left out to taunt you.
Grilled Cheese Vs. Taco
Taco cuts to the cheese, “Lets get down to business.”
Looks at the sandwich and says, “I can wiz this.”
Onlookers respond, “dude, that cheese is cut
He’s ripped out like Rambo to kick your butt.”
But still Taco thinks “no man I’ll unbread him,
Leave him for slices of cheese then I’ll shred him.
He’ll crumble like feta, shake like parmesan
This grilled cheese is girl cheese I’ve stumbled upon.”
“Careful,” said Grilled Cheese “you shell of a taco.
I’ll break you apart and make you a nacho,
I’ll flatten you out and scare out your toppings.
Don’t bother me kid, go scrape up your droppings.”
Friday
Weeping, hear me, as I do relay,
The incidents my mind keeps out of sight,
I clenched my fist as I killed Christ today.
I assure you of the truth in what I say,
I chose to do what I knew wasn’t right
Weeping hear me as I do relay
I took a nail and let His flesh give way
My sin driving in absence of His light.
I clenched my fist as I killed Christ today.
The image of it in my mind will play,
Tomorrow’s sins forecast by today’s fight
Weeping hear me as I do relay,
Alone I rest, I’m crying out Yaweh!
My Christ I need you, shed on me Your might.
I clenched my fist as I killed Christ today.
“Innocent” society would say
But I cry out in light as in the night
Weeping, hear me, as I do relay
I clenched my fist as I killed Christ today.
Joseph’s Rosary
What if Joseph prayed the rosary,
Asked his wife to “pray for me”,
Act as an interceder,
Would we call him a wife-beader?
Teething Techniques
I’m testing out a circumstance we
haven’t tried so if by chance he
hushes up then I can be
inside a moment quietly.
Right now he’s in the jumper,
But he’s looking for his thumb or
Something else to chew upon
Until the teething phase is gone.
So I’ve rigged up rings within his reach
But still, I don’t know how to teach
Him place your mouth around the rings
So I’ll enjoy the calm it brings.
Weeding
I have to weed the garden
But I’m guardin’
My weeds, I’m half-in
the promise from seeds.
In my garage
lies a mirage
of flowers
that cowers
behind my thoughts of weeding
and the long haul leading
past dirt under my finger nails
before a flower petal sails.
Revelation Tool
Why is rain a revelation tool
That’s used in movies
To groove these
Characters into Someone
When there is no sun.
With their contemplation and rain thinking
Watching the rain sinking
Into sewers
As viewers
Understand
The rain planned
To give him another chance
To review his stance
And know he’s alive
As we strive
For something
The rain may bring.
In Small Noises I Call Silence
Cars seem silent in the early morning light
But the truth is I hear them out of sight.
A single car drives down my street but I
know the street soon turns to silence driving by.
The type of silence filled with wind reflecting
On leaves shhshhhing while birds chirp incoherently.
I also notice silence I’m inflecting
With head scratching and yawning, apparently
All of these things I do when I’m porch sitting.
Silence couldn’t succeed if it wanted to corrupt me
Unless it’s categorized and some how fitting
In small noises that always interrupt me.
A Broken Lamp Unto My Feet
I’ve dropped the lamp and broken the glass
Letting the fire come to mass
Leaving the past to be
Etched memory.
Purifying tongues acquire
Jesus Christ. Our Lord’s desire
Brings us more than we require
From the Holy Spirit’s fire.
Walking With the Potter
My friend stands on water
And waves at the waves
Watching water weave with me
Which wetly behaves
As it should in this instance
With fluid resistance
I cry out and call out
And ask for assistance.
His hand clenched my wrist
As my face hit the water
I toss and I twist
but the hands of the potter
have pulled me from slip and surround me.
The world is still turning around me,
Unfocussed until I stop spinning
To stand and embrace this beginning.
BonjourPoetry 