Gideon Doesn't Live in This Place

Gideon doesn’t live in this place,

its soul as black as the moonless night,

silently sitting,
waiting,
watching for fresh prey,

carefully choosing,

devouring them whole,

then spitting out the pieces,

to circling sharks,

patiently waiting for the left overs;

on Friday evening,

the crip/blood, gangsta wannabes come pouring in,

like an invading, street tough, conquering army,

baby mamma, whaever bitch,

ho entourages in tow,

ghetto cool,

tattoo correct,

bling tough ready;

they understand this place,

no words required,

just a natural progression;

they have arrived;

you watch, then quietly realize,

you love your wife,

more than you ever knew.

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Not Bad Chinaski

my god,

they’re still making money

off his old, buffalo ass of a hide,

he’s been dead for what now?

three, no four years, damn,

he’s becoming a regular

Jimi Hendrix of the literature world,

they’ll be digging up his manuals

for the next thirty years,

there’ll be books coming out about;

the early years,

the final years,

the in between years,

the lost journals,

the never before published journals,

the secret diaries;

it’s almost enough

to make you want to puke;

especially when you just know,

somewhere the old bastard is

laughing his fat ass off,

thinking to himself;

not bad Chinaski,

not bad at all.

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W.B. Yeats

welcome old friend,

come in from the cold

and rest awhile,

I recognize your voice,

It is one I have heard

many times before,

the accent

was a little different

then,

from what it is now,

but still,

it is the same;

we have talked often,

you and I,

during that soft

and painful transition,

as I tried to hold on

to the dark and dying night,

and you patiently waited

for the pale, morning dawn;

tell me old friend,

have you found that precious

light of a new day,

for which you waited

and searched

for so long?

ah well;

nor could I

hold on to the darkness,

but what difference does it make?

it is in the trying

that matters most,

you and I,

were never born

to live in the black

or the white;

it is the cracks in between,

where we belong.

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Kathleen

the laughter rings in my ears,

the silence covers the night,

like a worn out lover,

inviting everything into its domain,

like flies in the spiders web,

echoes of the past,

banging into the walls of my mind;

who am I?

how did I get here?

I remember a road,

on a dark, starless night,

I remember your laughter,

I remember your scream,

I recall everything,

which means nothing;

ah Kathleen,

your hair was like silk,

you smelled like the springtime flowers,

we were young,

we were lovers,

we were soul mates;

we traveled the road to Dublin,

then you were gone,

I searched for you in the meadow,

but you were not there,

I screamed out your name,

but received no reply;

oh my Kathleen,

where have you gone?

time has no hold on our love,

our love was greater than time,

greater than life,

our love was endless,

timeless,

even death cannot keep me from you;

remember the moon?

we watched it rise,

you saw the fairies,

and called them out by name,

we danced till the new day sun came out;

oh my Kathleen,

where have you gone?

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O Eire

O Eire;

who could taste your sweetness,

and not cry out for more,

who could stand upon your cliff tops,

or walk the banks of the Shannon,

and not feel your mystical magic;

your hills

breathe with life,

young and fresh,

yet with a wisdom,

ancient and old;

O Eire;

even the mightiest invader,

is overwhelmed by the power

of your charm,

succumbing not to your sword,

but rather to your spirit,

as you take not their lives,

but steal their souls,

making them prisoners to that

which they had come to imprison;

O Eire.

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Push Buttons

sports, sex and food;

those are about the only things in life

that have ever really interested me,

and I’ve only been good at two of those,

well okay,

I used to be good at two,

now I only do one well;

technology?

bores the shit out of me,

and on top of that,

I don’t really understand it,

yet somehow,

here I am,

a highly trained technician,

in a highly technical field,

pushing buttons,

watching red and green lights

go on and off,

thinking about

the leftover steak in the refrigerator,

the secretary with the nice ass,

or how my daughter can improve her

basketball game;

sometimes I imagine life,

living in a stone cottage,

overlooking the ocean

on the western coast of Ireland,

writing whatever comes to mind

all day long,

then walking into the village at night

to drink a few pints,

tell a few lies,

then stumble home

to crawl in bed with a good woman,

big and soft,

who moves with passion,

moaning out of control;

and keeps the house clean;

excuse me,

I gotta push a button.

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This Love

I want to breathe her like air,

taste her like honey,

eat her like a pineapple,

sweet and tender,

soft and succulent,

juicy and ripe;

I want to feel her like the ocean waves,

absorb her like the morning sun,

touch her infinite energy,

while we laugh,

while we run,

while we cry;

I want her memories,

her thoughts,

her past,

mix them with my own,

until we become one;

this love humbles me,

this love brings me to my knees,

staggers my mind and soul,

this love silences me,

this love fills me,

like a mighty river,

overflowing its banks,

covering the scarred and broken land,

this love spews forth,

pumping like liquid gold,

into the soft smooth opening of her

moist wet silky fields;

this love overwhelms me,

this love fulfills me,

this love completes me;

this love consumes me.

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Dancing to a Dream

round and round we go,

faster and faster we spin,

the beat of the fiddle

making our hearts grow light,

the flute ringing out,

like a lost and dear old friend,

ah these days will last forever,

they are all that matter,

sweeter than the sweetest wine,

soft and tender as the fairest

lass’s lips,

surely we have passed

this way before;

if only in a dream.

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gypsy

she lives within, like a

faraway dream,

a wild raging river,

running dangerously out

of control,

a dark, passionate gypsy,

who can never be tamed,

flying like the wind,

disappearing with the evening

sun;

she is everything,

she is nothing,

she is here,

she is gone;

you fight with every ounce

of strength you possess,

you run as fast and as far

as you possibly can,

you hold out for as long

as time allows,

you sell yourself to the

highest bidder,

pretending it doesn’t matter,

telling yourself it is

just another one,

that it will pass like all the rest,

but it is not enough,

you find yourself

wanting more,

she has you for the taking;

and you wonder what shelter

exist for this,

what refuge is left,

what cure.

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nobody

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.   Isaiah 53:6

I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.   Luke 15:7

walking along this ocean shore,

the sound of crashing waves

and a cool breeze blowing in my face,

I realize, we are all living on borrowed time,

no matter how hard we work,

no matter how much effort we put forth,

it is never quite good enough,

never quite hard enough,

we are all faking it, we are all alienated,

we have all fallen short,

we are all without defense,

we all deserve the punishment,

liars and cheats, murderers and rapists,

swindlers and thieves,

we are all guilty;

none of us has what it takes,

none of us can pay the cost;

inside we run from the truth,

not concerned with right or wrong,

only concerned about the opinion of others,

how others see our efforts and toils,

how others judge our actions and decisions,

we delude and deceive ourselves,

thinking we can measure success by

money and wealth;

patting ourselves on the back,

holding up self-made scorecards,

saying ‘look at me’, I made the right choices,

I made the right decisions,

I am successful, I deserve respect,

I have earned the right to retire,

and spend all day walking the beach;

I am somebody;

when the truth is we are all nobody,

without the grace of the One who created us,

nobody without the sacrifice of the One who suffered

and died, to let us know we do matter,

we were worth the torture and pain,

that in heaven there is more rejoicing over one sinner who repents,

than over ninety nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

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waiting

here it is,

building until it can no longer

be contained,

forever listening,

as answers come

fast and sleek,

rich and dark,

ancient new world,

standing alone and brave,

wounded by the kiss

of a thousand thieves,

raped upon the stone steps

of this endless mansion,

left to weep

with no path home

no light of a grey, fresh morning;

I wish it were not so;

realization comes,

what once seemed so easy,

becomes unknown,

unseen;

I feel Your power,

strong and alive,

living,

breathing;

waiting.

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diabetes

the eyes are going,

I haven’t told anyone yet,

it gets hard to focus,

things that used to come easy,

can no longer be made out,

it’s like looking through broken glass;

then there’s the energy;

the least little thing makes you tired,

sometimes I just want to lay down

wherever I’m at and go to sleep,

sometimes she holds me

when it gets like this,

she has no idea

how good that makes me feel,

like a child again,

safe and warm;

I think I could die with her arms

wrapped around me;

the changes have been subtle,

they slowly creep up,

it is only gradually you begin to notice,

like a spider,

patiently waiting for its prey to die,

as it struggles to free itself

from the sticky web;

that is how it is,

that is how it will be;

it has been a good fight.

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Dog Day Afternoons

it is a sad day indeed,

when the truth is finally realized,

when all that is held dear,

is stripped away, revealing

only the dark black,

dirty little secrets

living inside;

you cannot change

who and what you are;

no more than a dog

can stop from licking himself,

in times of quiet reflection.

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Brother

for the first time,

I see your hurt,

I feel your pain,

and I realize

just how wrong

I have been;

when you called out,

I did not hear your voice,

when you needed help,

I turned away;

and for this I apologize;

I cannot crawl inside your skin,

I cannot know what you feel,

we can never be brothers in race,

but we can at least try to be

brothers in life;

you must tell me what it is

you see wrong,

I must tell you what it is

I see wrong;

we both must listen,

we both must change,

we both must go to the mountaintop,

we both must share the vision,

we both must have the dream;

as glorious,

as wonderful,

as that of the King.

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DOR

springtime sunshine,

green shades of youth,

I remember your energy,

your voice,

it was the sound

of fresh new rain,

it was the energy of life itself,

it was all I heard,

it was all I needed,

then suddenly you were gone,

everything was different,

the darkness gave way to light,

the springtime breeze smelled like old

and trusted friends,

silence filled the space where you once lived,

I searched for so long,

without knowing,

lost in the fog,

only a brief memory of a touch,

an echo of your voice,

it all seemed so ridiculous,

so hopeless;

what did it matter?

words never changed one thing,

what will be will be,

our lives are nothing

without each other,

meaningless,

in the end

we became our own gods,

forever linked to one another;

I remember now.

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Beautiful Little Flower

beautiful little flower,

you shine like a star in the night,

all who look into your eyes,

become a prisoner of your light;

I know your dreams,

yours and mine are one,

if I could find a way,

I’d give you the earth, the moon,

and the sun;

too much time,

you could never know where I’ve been,

too many burned out bridges,

to ever go that way again;

sarong-ha-ni-da.

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The Time Draws Near

lost in the darkness,

tossing and turning,

frightened and confused,

unsure of the thoughts and emotions,

unable to understand or comprehend,

this body of flesh grows weary and fails,

betrayed by the instincts and hungers,

destroyed by the intoxicating poisons;

the time draws near,

the day is at hand,

soon the morning sun will dawn,

all things shall be revealed;

the light of Your glorious presence

grows brighter,

the power of Your touch

strengthens and renews,

everything changes,

everything fades;

You are all I need,

You are all there is;

lead me through this wilderness,

let Your righteousness be my guide,

let Your glory shine for all to see,

let Your holy will be done;

allow me to serve You all my days,

for in You I shall find my deliverance,

in You I shall rise from the dark,

through You I shall overcome;

You who are my Lord,

You who are my King,

You who are my Everything.

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Through You

I come before You Oh Lord,

broken and corrupt,

a lowly lump of clay,

ready to be shaped

by Your blessed and holy hand;

teach me Your ways,

that I may walk in them forever,

show me Your truth,

that it might be engraved in my soul,

immerse me in Your love and grace,

that I might find life more abundant,

shine Your light before my eyes,

that they may be blind no more;

through You are all things made new,

through You are all things possible,

through You do we find strength,

through You do we have hope.

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