My family

I am somewhat of a deity.
Not in a mighty sense or as bright as God’s shining light.
But I am a deity in the form of understanding.
I can see where people come from.
I can see the pain of where they have been and I’m able to factor that into my view of them.
I’ve noticed that other people don’t seem to have my superpower.
They have been so blunted or splintered from fear or hurt, that they can no longer look at their fellow man (who might think differently than them) with the same sort of familial lense.
But I can.
I see my brothers and sisters.
I see every living thing too.
The mistakes and quick tempers.
The mountain tops and bitter valleys.
I take it all into account, which would make me a pretty good judge, but I don’t want to reign down decisions on my family.
I want them to see how closely related we all are.
How when we help with our right hand our left one benefits.
That we are God’s body – running and falling. Investing and squandering.
If I succeed, then we all succeed. If I fail, then we all fail.
I’m not passing on until all of you are coming with me.
I simply won’t lose a single, solitary one of my people.
This is my heart, for all living things.
I am somewhat of a deity.
I have been gifted a superpower.

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Into the Infinite

 

Whatever is bad in your life,
Whatever is hurtful,
And broken,
And painful,
And sad,
And evil,

I hope goodness will come
and replace the bad things
with their counterpart in hope;
gathering up all those wrong entities
and releasing them into the ether.

The bad things will try
and make their way back
into your life. Unfortunately,
you will let them at times.
But try and remember how
light hope is to hold; like a
sweater over your shoulders
and not much more.

Hope has this soft quality too
and it helps you see clearly for
what feels like the first time.

It is like a gentle reset; a
calibration that is neither painful nor
harsh. More like fine tuning the
gears of an elaborate wrist watch.

When the wrong things cover
your field of vision, all you can see
is straight ahead. Everything is clouded;
murky.

When hope fills your eyes, things are
crisp and precise; you can see the
infinite.

I want you to see into the infinite
with me. If you feel you are ready
and that you are safe, I can show you.

Trazodone Kids

Go to sleep
Go to sleep
Little trazodone kids

Your dreams are calling
Whispering soft stuff
About a nice, quiet end

To self harm scars –
Replacing that bad
With cloudlike good

Go to sleep
Go to sleep
Little medicated ones

There is a day coming
When monsters like depression
Are slayed by a great warrior

One who is cloaked in light
And brings the sun
Into each new dawn

Go to sleep

Mr. Money


Mister money!?
The all-lending-gold-stash-in-the-sky!?
Why?
Why am I here so hundred-dollar puny?
And they’re so stacked-to-the-ceiling-bundles-of-cash?

Is it cause I don’t tithe to you?
The all-lending-gold-stash-in-the-sky?
Seems to me like you got enough, feel me?
Your wealth is never ending kind –
And mine is the maybe run out tomorrow kind.

Would it be so terrible if I did inherit a small fortune? ™
Not baseball player money!
No, more like long-time plumber in a small town, money.
Name on the side of the truck, money.
Small recognition and respect, money.

Maybe I’m not the guy cause I won’t use it like you want.
Maybe other folks with short pockets and long donation lists are better.
But this – not make it past one medical bill – type money has got to go.
I’m trying to hold in all my illness.
Can’t have too many burst forth at the same time!
My mailbox would explode with bills.

I’m not too good at working, all-lending-gold-stash-in-the-sky.
I need a little help from your swimming pool coin fortune.
Your bugs bunny, cartoon money.
I have to pay my rent.
Do you want me out in the cold, all-lending-gold-stash-in-the-sky?
Kinda seems like it…

I forgive you though.
You gotta make the money go around to everybody.
But it sure seems like you’re not very even…
What do I know though.
You big time.
I’m small potatoes … and bank account (singular).

Celebration of life – 11/10/18

I stared at all your faces
Sombre, though bright alike
They came from all your places
Some drove through the night

I recited poems and sang
The worship songs you’d want
My bright guitar strings rang
Hid my tears all nonchalant

It was impossible indeed
To see your daughter cry
Our simple family creed
Is try, then give, then try

Many wished they’d’ve spoke
Too hard a thing to do
I tried to calm them with a joke
And head back laugh in lieu

In pictures, young I saw
Your face lit up with glee
God’s gift of grace and awe
For many eternity

I know I did you proud
Don’t have to wish a thing like that
Your people sang real loud
I acted as diplomat

I closed with that poem
I read to you that day
Not ever a time alone
When that poem I hear you say
When that poem kneels down to pray

Vulnerable

You can set someone free with your vulnerability. You can quiet a fellow human’s fears. You can spur them on. It’s not necessary to have your hurts mastered, before you share them, so please share them. The impact of uncovering moments you are ashamed of, will reach further than you could ever know. It will save lives. 

I’m Not Asking

I will never know
how hurt you have been
and are.

You held it together for
years. Then one day it all
came apart.

Maybe you saw it coming,
but couldn’t believe it would be
a new reality.

Reality sounds kinda nice
compared to what every
stunted, splintered day in this hell feels like.

I hope you can have some good
before you go. There’s been a mistake
in how much broken you were handed.

I pray peace for you, even when you
really frustrate me. I want to hear
more joy in your voice.

Not one more moment of pain, Lord.
Not one more God-forsaken moment.
Let’s see you redeem.

I call upon you now to right this ship.
To make impossible good out of
insurmountable bad.

I’m afraid I’m not asking.
I’m telling.
Right now, show my mother … love like she’s never seen.