Armor-Plated

Armor-Plated

Everyone wants to be armor-plated,
Kevlar 3 piece suits and casual wear,
walking down the sidewalks fully bullet-proof.
Fewer connections, a lot more aloof.

Everyone wants breath guaranteed, and capes to wear
shielding the breeze of passersby shooting spit and words
to fill the fragmentary hurts to dust.

Everyone wants painless waking, no limps, no stairs,
no crooked hips or back spasms. Just a jump out of bed
toward the morning Utopia, a wander around
Walden’s Pond.

Everyone needs a piece of safety, a tag unlawful to remove,
inspected by number 103, a gilt-edged certificate and
strain free policy.

Everyone looks like a man on the run, or a shrinking violet
kept out of the sun,
Everyone keeps one eye open, back covered and
mouths unopened. Let the words stay put within their
cells under lock and key.

Everyone stings at the shotgun pops when early morning hunters
grouse their prey. No one follows the resound to its source once
the heart has jumped from fat happy to razor thin.

Bullet proof, rust proof, prove my religion, prove my God;

But the nails matched the holes in is His Hands, the spikes
the gashes in His feet. The cup was emptied fully unguarded, unarmed.

Everyone wants to be bullet-proof, not like our Christ whose skin
was thin as my own.

Button My Mouth

Button My Mouth

(“The Holy Spirit told me to go with them and not to worry.” Acts 11:12a)

Button up my mouth and stop the casual refrain,
I saw the way you looked when I mentioned my alcoholic friend,
so ready to empathize, knowing the lively eyes become vacant
after donning alcohol’s disguise.

You nodded at the need, ready to hear rehabilitation’s song,
you followed my story along the path from meeting to friending,
and the family we became, waiting for the happy ending
of a sober crawl out black molasses to concrete sidewalks
leading home.

I caught your eyes nearly tearing, a lantern in the backwards distance,
a flicker you remember; perhaps of another friend sicker than hopeless.

I heard the hand-me-downs of your own story when you simply asked:
“How did you know him.”

I heard the breath leave your lips too fast when I answered,

“Upon the reservation.”

Love Because...

“We love because He first loved us.” 1 John 4:19

I have never had to experience physical hunger. Oh, I’ve gone without eating, skipped a meal, and heard my stomach reenact a summer thunderstorm. But I have never experienced true hunger.

The Fuel on Which the Universe Runs

The Fuel on Which the Universe Runs

“My dear friends, we must love each other. Love comes from God, and when we love each other, it shows that we have been given new life. We are now God’s children and we know him.’ 1 John 4:7

No matter our physical age, we all can ‘grow up” spiritually and emotionally. But we need God’s gifts to do that. Most of the “good” that comes from our lives is the result of experiencing the wonderful gift of healing and forgiveness we have received from Jesus. He loved us personally and deeply. The extent of that love is shown by His complete sacrifice on the cross for us. He gave Himself to be cruelly mistreated and killed all out of love for mankind as a whole, and each of us as individuals.

Picnics Remade

Picnics Remade

(” The voice came a second time: If God says it’s ok, it’s okay.’” Acts 10:15 [The Message])

Lowered lovesick on the roof of a patron’s lodging,
fullpress prayer was all that was left of the noon devotion;
the only motion, rocking on the knees nearly calloused from
kneeling longterm, late term, before the object of love.

The skies are not enough to contain the passion flowing
from this tiny heart beating fresh, creating new love with
each pulse. The rooftop is not strong enough to
hold the weight of atomic moments where mass is greater
than the volume of words that poetry forms and
soily love envisions far beyond fascination to
strict affection. The code is obeyed for the
CodeWriter’s sake.

Fasting; for love nourishes the empty,
praying; for Divine enables the question,
seeking; for today replays the answer,
hearing; for spoken rehearses the remedy.

And seeing the answer, hearing the banquet
that lets us walk on the grass again, pet the animals in
the zoo,
cross the borders to love our enemies,
rsvp to recipes we had shunned so strictly,

Loving now cheery, the meals we take
are feasts remade into picnics for
cast-offs and relics, non-sequesters
and investors who are allowed now to
bet it all on walks where we once had
to wash our feet days before we began.

My Heart is Broken

My Heart is Broken

My heart is broken, that’s what it comes down to.
And, as if I had broken my leg, 5 years later I should no longer
walk with a limp.

But my heart is broken. And no one helped me cast it,
I was sent to lift more loads while it still burst at the seams.

As if I had broken my leg, 5 years later I should be able
to hike Yosemite.

But my heart is broken. And as with every broken heart,
all are at fault, and all wish someone would stitch it up,
take it to a better time, rewind the emotional health trap,
swath the mental health, retest the spinal tap, and give me the
CPR to replace the spirit that flew out the hole left in my heart.

As if I had broken my leg, 5 years later I should be dancing
like I had never quit.

But my heart is broken. Again. And I just don’t feel like dancing.
Broken hearts never heal in isolation, but ICU was the only room available.

As if I had broken my leg, I would be outpatient and 5 year later
racing to the coffee shop to people-watch with my best friend.

But my heart is broken. I wake after a good day to darkness.
I close my eyes and the good flies from my consciousness only to
have the movie of former times, I mean 20 years ago times, play
in grainy resolution.

As if I had broken my leg, my appetite would be unaffected,
my smile unforced, and the laughs natural walking down the pavement
on a warm spring morning.

But my heart is broken and spring feels like winter, winter never ends
and friends are better than my busted heart believes. But it was busted
by friends and my wasted allegiances, my unwise camaraderies, my
dance with those unlikely to return the favors.

As if I had broken my leg, I would not cry here, 5 years later.

But my heart is broken and the tears still do not stop coming.

Love: Bringing out the Best

“On the other hand, perhaps [this commandment] is new, freshly minted as it is in both Christ and you—the darkness on its way out and the True Light already blazing!” 1 John 2:8 (The Message)

The Old Testament commanded love. As early as Leviticus 19:18 God had said, “Don't seek revenge or carry a grudge against any of your people. Love your neighbor as yourself. I am God.” There was little doubt, at least from this commandment, that God expected mankind to act in love toward others. This love was exemplified by God’s delivering power.