Archive for August, 2014

I Can’t Know

Standing uncomfortably between doubt and belief,
between reason and faith, I can’t know
if God has my heart because He fashioned it Himself,

or if He’s merely my fear gripping me tight,
having taken on the shape of a holy entity with power
to damn me to a fiery hell for all eternity.

One thing I can know for certain, though,
is that I’ll be a contradictory pendulum swinging nervously,
back and forth, for the remainder of my days.

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Open Mic

As police lights cast an ominous glow
on the pockmarked walls of this dingy tavern,
music flows from a pair of speakers
hung on either side of the makeshift stage
where drunks croon amidst smatterings of applause.

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Above All

Entangled hearts
beat for each other.
No longer separate,
but united lovers.

In every pleasure,
in every pain.
Together in loss,
together in gain.

More than marriage,
more than vows.
Love remains
above all else.

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Gut Feeling

I wait (as is my habit)
for something worth waiting for,
certain it will arrive,
not with golden, parted skies,

but with an event more ordinary,
shy conversation, perhaps,
in a warm, familiar coffee shop
between lines of Keats.

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The heat, this blanket tightly wrapped,
from which there’d be no escape
if not for the air conditioning
inside our getaway car,
starts to unravel.

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Many a Song and Sonnet

If I spent the entirety of my days
writing many a song and sonnet about you,
it would be the most fulfilling pursuit
this smitten heart could ever know.

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If the eye is the window to one’s soul,
then yours is the viewing point
to unfathomable beauty

that nobody, least of all me,
deserves to gaze upon,

and yet, for reasons I’ll never understand,
I’m blessed with the pleasure
of opening my own eyes each morning

to see your perfect figure lying
beside me in bed, breathing in gentle rhythm,

or, if you’ve already risen from sleep,
hear the faint sound of the hair dryer
as you begin another day,

singing along with the birds in their nest
outside our bathroom window,

who, like me, I am certain,
hope to behold, if only for a moment,
your natural magnificence.

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Quell It, Zealot

How can love be wrong,
and hate considered right?
Threatening damnation,
believing out of fright.

Hollow conversation,
waving signs, and yelling out
won’t do us any good,
won’t get rid of valid doubt.

Forsake condemning words,
allow kindness to wash over.
Friendship is more important
than being a seedless sower.

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In Due Time

Trust doesn’t ask for certainty,
patience doesn’t allow envy to bud,
kindness doesn’t hurt purposely,
love doesn’t thirst after guilty blood.

Trust permits others to wander free,
patience endures when life isn’t fine,
kindness remains as hearts disagree,
love dissolves all hatred in due time.

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Upon Her Stars

She’s lovely as the night sky
teeming with brilliant flecks of gold.

How I’d delight in gazing in wonder
upon her stars for all eternity.

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