Human

for that boy who kept showing up in my prayers all day, and made the sirens worry me. this poem was supposed to swing into something about changing your name and thus stepping into a new identity and future, but i guess thats for another poem, another time.

human
wide smile, white teeth
broad chest accompanied with belly
soft smell of berries blue
that shirt you wont dare leave
shy about your hands
but not for where you place them
that strut blends your limp
speak of respect confused with fear

sometimes words are easy
but names are always earned
never cheaply given

sister's blood still fresh
days of hunger dont forget
and all those nights of worry
sleeping in the jungle
thinking 'if tomorrow...'

tiny silver pieces:
money
death
destruction
guilt so far displaced
yet i cannot condemn
after all, you're human
or should i say for me?

wear a symbol
shout the title
can never see that first
a hero always forward
human in the mix

members slowly people
people always human
your gang is just a group
of hurting, hungry humans

and Jesus loves humanity
even the very human
in every one, us all

Big Brown Eyes

to my soccer buddy who is a tiny giant with malt-ball eyes and a funny 'fro.

blood running down the sink
in the creases of your fingers
pools in your palms

scars engraved
written in stone
can be
markings on the path
biased history

infront is not decided
don't draw the map so quickly
number 6 reverberates

just like bleach
toxic to drink
smell just rests in the air
burns so sweet
rusty red stains
made white
not the natural, still intended

clog the drain
discolor enamel
leave the faucet dripping

Blood is life
not added or included,
but the very bricks
its all about dying
the very reason, very breathing

wash your hands in The Blood
bathe in the flow of life
suicide?
perhaps
but isn't that the point?
its all about dying

sit beside those fancy doors
shadowed in the steeple
im mixing myself in
prepare yourself
The Blood is chasing you
that gun won't be enough
can't protect from this

water is inadequate
baptize in the bleach
brittle, fake skin seared away
red-shell diluted by The Blood

liberal portions in your person
crossed the ocean
all things new
now ford that bloody river
drenched clean the other side

not the future, nor the past
only answer
'Do not kill'
plunge into that river, dive into the death
its all about dying

She's Waiting For Her Bus

to the girl who is always teaching me, and so easily forgets my faults, i'm thankful for your friendship!

i'm the friendly one
i'm the...
the perfect one.
where do we begin?

he threw pennies at you.
im so sorry.
im so
sorry.

you made appointments
i just stood beside you
you got protection
i just took a breath

i made you face a fear
a tiny,
little fear pretending
I was with you
all the way

and I watched you
let you sell
yourself
what about reality?
you face that
every hour
I won't walk it with you
meet that one
all alone

I can't force you
to stop
but neutral is a liar
its a false-front disease

If I care at all I'll scream
I'll whisper
I'll mumble
Anything
is better than idle

I wont wish good luck
cant say
fare well
but I pray blessing
protection not in any rubber
form
God bless
not man
not boy
may you be in His watch
in the palm of His hand

how true you are a hooker
at the end
image still the same
onion-breath and all

New Best Friend

for that boy that dared to say and be so real. you dont know how huge your false confidence has been, i returned because you lied, if that makes any sense. hopefully one day, i will remember (even better, discover) your real name.

I coudn't help but notice
your thick wad of bills
how you tried to keep your cool
the authority you carry
the name you said isnt what they're shouting
or how popular you are with passing cars
I couldn't help but notice

I couldnt help but notice
that your'e just a little boy
that smile is of fear and nothing else
how homesick you are; waiting to return, back where you belong
Mabye its in Africa
maybe its in Florida
maybe its the loving arms behind you
maybe its the pleading, bleeding Jesus at your side

I couldn't help but notice...
and now I'll always remember

Filthy White

Potholes were and unwelcome surprise
The mind draws a city with well-groomed streets
Ruts to the brim with ice and slush,
or both
Sparkling, brown: a reflection

The dirtied snow still gleams
Seems so stupid to lie,
pretend the snow is pure
The steeple's steps are crowded;
used for beds and deals.

The question has become:
who's the gleaming white and who's the muddy mess?

After Thoughts

Do these prayers pierce the ceiling?
Dark caverns
Stale and cold
Questions linger
Hanging in the mist
Thirsty promises
Verses that echo in
Their hollowness
Slow drip of tears
Adding to black pools
Kneeled pleas carved across cave’s walls
Fingers retrace every word
Hunting for the flaw
That tilting error
So many sealed passages
Feeling through awful dark
Is there a hall of answers?
A file for unborn lives?
Pages drenched in should be’s
Maps with no beginning?
Air damp with theories
Stripped naked of an answer
Reverberating cry
Stone walls slow to swallow
Praise the only pathway
Lonely possibility
Powerless to touch the past
Comfort’s absurd conduct