Tag: catholic

Needy

Needy

Putting you off
‘till the chaos of the world
subdues into a nearly nonexistent hum.
Background music’s
Out of focus as I enter in
To taste a Bread of Life crumb.

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Like water into my mouth
The word flows out,
Floods the air
To leave it’s absence bare.

Leaving warm honey on my lips
Viscosity transforms, and the flow
Hangs thick in the Spirit.

The lick of the tongue sings,
Tasting resurrection.

St. Joseph’s Strength

St. Joseph’s Strength

St. Joseph, I know you had it rough.
You couldn’t be blamed enough
In fact, every family feud
That you imperfectly pursued
Ended in you being wrong,
Mary and Jesus were right all along.
In arguments, you’d take a step back and say, “It’s me”
So that all the world could see
A man’s love is that strong.

I’m tired of Lent.

I’m tired of Lent.

A week or so in and I’ve had it
I want coffee so bad it’s
Causing me to run hot water through the filter, plain.
Then pour from the coffee pot in vain
But I get nothing but hot water.
Somehow I’ve convinced my brain
That I’m drinking a pot or
That this is better than breaking down and having a cup,
Fearing Jesus’ll catch me and ask “what’s up”
So I drink this extremely watered down version
And hope for a spiritual submersion.

Seeking Translucence

Seeking Translucence

I struggle with giving you glory in everything.
I hold onto things that I want to bring
Glory to me.  Some days I feed off of it,
Finding it hard to stand by or sit
And watch something I do become translucent.
Though everyone sees the light that you sent,
Part of me’s in a bright orange vest as the one
Directing traffic toward your Son.

Flying to Miami

Flying to Miami

We’re sitting in vibrating chairs
Each surrounded by blank stares
Of people with sudoku puzzles and books
Occasionally taking second looks
At the landscape outside
Of our airplane ride.

I’m looking past someone repeating
The motion of peanut eating
To jagged cotton mountains
Or the base of foaming fountains
Frozen in time that goes on forever
In a white sunlit endeavor
To make me mention
That God grabbed my attention.

I Have Dry Skin

I have dry skin

Our microfiber tablecloth is like the devil to me.
I’m the sinner to who absolutely has to see
Why my mind’s set to a frequency
That desperately screams out to me,

Screeching “Don’t touch that!”
But never the less in no time flat
I’m gripping the deadly sheet,
My fingers are forced to meet

The elegant cloth turned into rags
Caught in dry-fingered snags
That act like chalkboard fingernails.
The fabric cringes me and prevails.