Unrehearsed

Unrehearsed

You set the stage that day,
for a backward age that might send
you off down the years
before tears and stains painted wrinkles
at the corner of practiced smiles.

You wished it clean, the mind and matter
that scattered your private dreams toward the sky,
seen by every passerby, but still unnamed.

Your innocence passed too fast; forward through
the crowded tunnel where those who enter
all arrive at the same destination. Outside that
grand opening, with eyes squinted shut at the sun’s
silver blast,
we face each other with nowhere else to go.

You made your decision, unfeigned, unpainted;
while the grain showed the pattern of joy and pain,
your eyes caught every motion, your mouth once
announcing ocean high and low, ebb and flood;

While most of us just cover up with scented suds.

You called us to our places that day,
far ahead of your age, no wrinkles named
by curled lips, and blackbird feet;
you smelled the air, heard the spring like
lilacs overhead, and knew, old or early,
the day could not wait until more audience arrived.

She stepped out from among us, began the truth-telling
(like a folk story retelling), that helped spell-bound
the one or two, either side of her,
who heard her eschew a fully staged confession, to
trade it for the first
unrehearsed whisper.

Eat My Words?

The food that you put into your mouth doesn’t make you unclean and unfit to worship God. The bad words that come out of your mouth are what make you unclean.” Matthew 15:11

“You are what you say”. That’s a little riff on the popular slogan, “You are what you eat.” Jesus makes no mistake about the powerful effect words have. We often refer to the damage they can do to the hearers. It is widely known that a spouse who is belittled year after year will eventually see themselves exactly as they have been spoken of. A person who was once confident and lively may, after a time, become reclusive and unsure.

Cleaning my Eyeglasses

“You’re blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.” Matthew 5:8 [(he Message)

I have worn glasses since eighth grade. The first thing I discovered is the difficulty of keeping rain off the lenses. I’ve always joked that there should be windshield wipers for glasses, just like for automobiles. I’m sure there are some tiny novelty wipers out there, but I’d end up looking like a buffoon wearing them. I guess I’ll put up with rain-stained spectacles.

My Most Vigorous Shower

"My Most Vigorous Shower"

(“Finally, before entering the camp, the priest must wash his clothes and bathe his body with water; nevertheless, the priest is still unclean till evening.” Numbers 19:7)

Clean once before, cleaner than spring’s electricity
flattering the buds about to bloom. Clean once more,
clean as prewarmed breezes creeping in from the coast.

As clean as I can make me, as squeaky as my skin can be,
it lasts a mere day or less until work buries dirt in my knuckles,
workouts burn the scorched ambiance of gym locker towels.

As refreshed as I may feel, and sight renewed, polished
crystal blue; I find the focus blunted by a single night’s passing.

Ask my loyals and they will joyfully recite my grooming’s best;
ask the suspicious and they will turn my most vigorous shower to
nothingness.

Attempts with soaps and shampoo matter less when friends do not care,
foes will not be convinced,
and I weary of the new fragrances loaded into plastic bottles.

Nevertheless, cleanliness remains such a priority that I devote
prodigious energy promoting my innocence on stage and off.
The smell of the crowd and greasepaint’s roar no longer last
until the next show’s opening. I must mask the evaporation,
dry-clean the costumes and un-act, de-memorize and rewind
my way to more blameless days.

I can’t blame anyone for trying to decide how long it’s been
since I’ve showered and dried; besides, I could blame everyone
for sniffing so long where noses do not belong.

Lately life less simple is clearer. Defenses less elaborate,
ruses unpremeditated. Thinking takes longer, whims whimper
like last night’s campfire, and pretences only make me sad.

With less left to say I reiterate; wash, lather, rinse and repeat.
With less on the line I find One Life that cleaned it all
One Spring
when few were watching. And those who did misinterpreted
how innocent Defendants might be. And those so guilty,
so grimy and left suspended with the Guiltless above the crowd
that everyone could see they belonged there (and me)
discovered (before us all) a blameless spot reserved
in Paradise’s best hall.