05 March 2015

Redemption

From prodigious profanity 
You wrought a sanctuary 
Worthy of your glory,
Born not of humanity,
But of divine activity:
Your mighty work in me.

My lust became chastity,
Restraint displaced gluttony,
My fog gave way to clarity,
My avarice to charity.
New life exudes from me;
My long-imprisoned soul is free.

iPoem: Back on My Way

My iPhone wrote this for you. (After I hit the middle auto-complete choice 116 times.)

The fact I can get it right away
With the best of the day
Before I get a follow
Back on my way
Home from work to be
The first half of the year
And the rest of the year
And the rest of the day
Before I get a follow
Back on my way
Home from work to be
The first half of the year
Of high quality of life
And the rest
Of my favorite part of the day
I have a great way
Of the year
Of high quality of life
And the rest
Of my favorite part of the day
I have a great way
Of the year
And a great day.

08 January 2015

Starry Night

Pinpricks of white-hot light
Pierce night's shroud,
Icepicks through silk,
Astronomically distant, yet
Palpably present.

Rays from cosmic furnaces,
Dampened by the void,
Pause their celestial journeys
To warm this marrow-freezing night
With wonder.

03 January 2015

NoPAD Chapbook 25: Love Poem

Ten years now
I've been falling 
Into bed next to you,
Asleep before ten,
Awake before six,
Predictable as
Vanilla ice cream
(The good kind:
Ground vanilla beans, 
Cane sugar, real cream).

Apart from you,
I'm off-balance,
Distracted, overwhelmed,
Lonesome as
A dry brownie,
Languishing there
For the second week
Of a successful diet,
Utterly lost without
Its a la mode.

NoPAD Chapbook 22: Release

Her labored breathing finally stopped.
The doctor whispered, "It's finished."
He rose and shut the morphine off.
We looked at each other with uncertain eyes.
The nurse started gathering equipment up.

The chaplain knew what to do --
He'd been here many times before
And almost certainly would be again --
"Let us pray the words of the Psalmist:
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..."

The undertaker was silent and gentle,
With large hands accustomed to the dead.
He murmured sincere condolences
As he wheeled her shell out the door
And promised to be in touch soon.

Their assistance was for us, not her.
At long last, she was finally beyond
The need for human aid. Like a prisoner
Seeing the outside after decades, she left
These walls for the fearsome blessing of Release.