Archive for September, 2013

I’d Be Blessed

I’m done with chasing after fickle, naive girls.
A real woman has finally entered my life.
I wouldn’t trade knowing her for the entire world,
and I’d be blessed to one day call her my wife.

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Vanishing acts are
inside the magician’s
cap of my mind,
thinking about nothing
out of the ordinary,
really, though unfocused.

The dream I have
returns each fitful night,
often stealing
years from my vain existence.

Time passes slowly
every moment I
run away from fear and
regret etched
into both wrists,
ears ringing like alarms,
neglecting repose.

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Standing by myself
in this place
that’s close to hell,
a quiet angel
reels me in
and affects my every cell.

Afterward I try
looking back on my life,
attempting to find
how I’d warred in my mind,
although what I saw
nearly left me behind.

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They’re spreading their hatred while quoting Scripture,
missing the cardinal point of love and the bigger picture.
Religion and politics can become a poisonous mixture,
making ancient, outspoken bigotry a permanent fixture.

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Study the bleeding heart
inside her chest
that beats for others
and not herself,
radiating lovingkindness
amid so much hate.

Ask her a question, and she’ll never
lie or pretend to be
anything she’s not,
hoping to lead by example
and pursuing justice where
none can easily be found.

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Autumn Morning

Condensation has settled
in orderly drops
around my bedroom window,

while I am once again
nestled beneath
the warm cocoon of my covers,

drinking a fresh cup of coffee
I had to brave
the frigid kitchen to obtain,

still undecided on how I feel
about summer leaving
all the work to the clouds.

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Hands Folded

Every note she sings
is a drop of salve
straight into my wounded heart,
and I know that one day
her song will be
what I wake to each morning,
my hands folded in earnest prayer,
giving thanks for the angelic being
breathing right beside me,
looking like peace in bodily form.

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Full, gleaming moon,
adorned with scarf of cloud,
unveils her beauty.

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The heat follows us
wherever we try to hide,
quite comparable
to a blanket once cherished
in childhood so long ago.

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Popularity Contest

On facebook it doesn’t matter what I write about.
It will never compare to a photo of a beautiful girl.
Not that I’m attempting to whine or fight or pout.
I just think it’s funny what’s of value in the world.

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