Shape Shifter

I feel your presence

in the nighttime wind,

I sense your power

calling out

wild and free,

I touch the excitement,

the pure exhilaration,

knowing no fear,

no inhibition,

only raw animal instinct

tearing at my insides,

screaming to be free

craving to be fulfilled,

proud and untamed,

no right,

no wrong;

brother,

join my spirit,

fill me with your mystery,

make us one

running through the night,

our voices crying out,

searching for the scent of fresh victims,

tasting the succulent kill,

knowing the triumph

of surviving another day,

this body holding me prisoner

fades away,

there is only you,

only me,

one creature,

one spirit.

.

.

Door to Door Salesmen

death

came knocking

on my door

last night,

I told him

to come back

next week,

I just didn’t

have time

to deal with it

right now,

he said he’d call

and make

an appointment,

what a nice guy,

no wonder

he’s doing so well;

maybe I should give him

a little of my

business;

of course

he’s got

the market

cornered,

he’d better

watch

his step

or he’s gonna

get slapped

with an

anti-trust

suit;

I hope he’s got a good lawyer.

.

.

The Night

cold and barren

the windswept fields,

dark

and gray

in the moonlight

walking

through wooded

meadows,

she calls

and I must

go,

her voice

beckoning my soul

to come

lie at her

feet;

she washes my face

with raven hair,

wet with teardrops

from things

unseen,

unknown,

in her arms

I know no

fear;

she is the night,

when she calls

no man

resists her voice,

she is the darkness

living in us

all.

.

.

Overcome

Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.   Ephesians 6:11-12

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.   Romans 12:21

in the depths of my carnal mind,

the master of darkness softly speaks,

quietly searching for weakness and flaws,

silently planting his evil seeds;

seeds of lust and temptation,

seeds of doubt and fear,

seeds of hatred and anger,

seeds of revenge and retribution;

corrupting and twisting the truth,

clouding all that is real,

tearing down and destroying

until there is nothing left within,

building walls and divisions

between my brother and I,

putting words of venomous hate

on the tip of my imperfect tongue,

attempting to devastate and waste

all that is good,

all that is pure,

all that is holy and righteous;

all that is from God;

You patiently discipline and rebuke

until at last I am able to understand,

providing light for my blinded eyes,

gently holding my trembling hand,

guiding my feeble and wavering steps

as I slowly learn to stand;

raise me up above the filth and mire,

hold me in Your mighty arms,

remove the darkness surrounding my soul,

teach me to not be overcome by evil,

but to overcome evil with good.

.

.

No Other

I am the LORD, and there is no other; apart from me there is no God. I will strengthen you, though you have not acknowledged me, so that from the rising of the sun to the place of its setting people may know there is none besides me. I am the LORD, and there is no other. I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the LORD, do all these things.   Isaiah 45:5-7

For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power.   I Corinthians 4:20

the empty highway looms ahead,

stretching on forever, no end in sight,

destinations unknown, distant and unexplored,

staring mindlessly ahead, missing the thrill of the open road,

missing the isolation of the high mountain trails,

missing the taste of a young girl’s lips,

the breathless excitement in her eyes,

the feel of her quivering anticipation;

understanding things that no longer are;

it does not matter, the past is gone,

the only truth left, shining brightly ahead,

the small, still voice, speaking deeply within,

opening your eyes, revealing things

you could never have imagined,

incomprehensible things, things of beauty, things of truth,

knowledge for which words have no expression,

leaving you humbled and in awe;

God is power,

forming the light, creating darkness,

bringing prosperity, allowing disaster,

not bold, foolish talk, not man-made traditions,

not a better way of living,

not a psychology or philosophy,

far beyond anything our limited minds can comprehend,

healing the sick, giving sight to the blind,

raising the dead to life;

God is power.

.

.

Bring Me Home To You

stay with me Father,

hold my head above the fray,

protect me from unseen enemies,

let my eyes see the light

of one more day;

lead me through this darkness,

help me to make a stand,

I have forsaken Your

wisdom and righteousness,

I have wandered far from

Your protective hand;

bring me home to You Lord,

bring me home to You;

never let me go,

never let me forget,

that for You all things are possible,

that there is nothing You do not know,

that there is nothing You cannot do;

bring me home to You Lord,

bring me home to You;

when hope has died

and tomorrow seems so far away,

You are there like a mighty

beacon of light,

gently leading the way;

bring me home to You Lord,

bring me home to You;

this world deceives the best,

the deceit and lies bring down

even the strongest,

without You there is no hope,

without You there is nothing;

bring me home to You Lord,

bring me home to You;

praise You above all others,

praise You with every voice,

praise You with every breath;

praise You forever.

.

.

Psalm 103

For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children— with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.   Psalm 103:11-18

when I turn to You,

light comes pouring in,

darkness slips away,

hope rises within,

I am set free;

You are a sweet summer breeze,

a clear mountain stream,

a warm, gentle touch,

innocence and purity,

truth complete;

as far as the east is from the west,

have You removed my transgressions from me,

as a father has compassion on his child

have You had compassion on me;

through Your unfathomable sacrifice,

have I been redeemed from the dead,

by Your mercy and grace,

has my soul been restored;

forever shall I belong to You,

forever shall I sing of Your greatness,

forever shall I praise Your name,

forever shall I love You above all others;

let Your will be done

on earth as it is in heaven,

remove all that is not of You,

cleanse the filth and iniquity

abiding within this imperfect temple,

make me into a new creation,

fill me with Your love;

You are my strength,

You are my rock,

You are my comfort and joy,

You are my God;

You are my Everything.

.

.

My Eyes Do Not See

That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.   II Corinthians 12:10

my eyes do not see,

but I have eyes with which to see,

my ears do not hear,

but I have ears with which to hear,

my mind does not understand,

but I have a mind with which

to understand;

I have You,

and that is all I need;

this fleshly body slowly crumbles

into the dust,

yet I continue to rise,

man-made ideas and thoughts

come and go,

but in the end they mean nothing

at all;

I have You,

and that is all I need;

through weakness Your strength

is made perfect,

therefore I shall glory

in all my weakness,

for when I am weak

I am made strong

by Your grace alone;

I have You,

and that is all I need.

.

.

Just Believe

Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”   Mark 5:36

in the middle of the night I awake,

gripped with fear,

overcome by the immensity,

afraid of the unknown road ahead,

thinking of all the possible dangers,

unable to control even the smallest detail,

completely inadequate and out of control,

heading on a collision course with disaster;

then I remember the places from where

I have come,

all the doors that have been opened,

all the chains which have been removed,

the love and grace that has brought me

to this place,

and I hear His soft, cool voice,

gently whispering in the

nighttime darkness;

“Don’t be afraid, just believe.”

the fear fades away,

the doubt dissolves into nothing,

the darkness turns to light,

there is only love,

there is only Him;

and that is all that matters;

in the deepest depths,

on the highest heights,

He is there guiding my path,

showing the way,

the Friend who stands by my side

closer than a brother,

the King who laid down His life

that I might live;

the One who I will love

forever.

.

.

Walking Through The Valley

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.   Psalm 23:4

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.   Philippians 4:13

once again,

I enter this dark place,

this cold, empty, deserted place,

this place from which most

never return,

my enemies wait outside,

gloating over the misery,

laughing within at the naivety,

mocking from afar,

standing firm in their ‘moral’

and ‘intellectual’ superiority,

waiting for the fall;

once again,

You stand by my side,

letting me know You

will always be there,

helping me to rise when

so many others would not,

softly reminding me that

I never have anything to fear;

“Don’t be afraid, just believe”

once again,

You prepare me for

a battle most will

never see,

in a war that

rages continuously

around everyone

and everything,

rescuing me from places

which no man could overcome;

teaching me that through You,

I can do all things.

.

.

Siege

outside this worn and battered fortress

the enemy secretly waits,

laying siege to these crumbling walls,

setting hidden traps and snares,

offering enticing lures and baits,

silently probing and testing,

continuously searching for

weakness and flaws;

preparing for the final assault;

within the darkness

I seek Your face,

through the long lost night

I wait for Your presence;

rise up mighty Lord,

defend me from unknown enemies,

free me from unseen prison bars,

fill me with Your holy fire,

bathe me in Your glorious light,

overwhelm me with Your holy spirit;

You are all that I desire,

You are all that I need,

You are the center of my hope,

You are all there is;

in You shall I find relief,

through You shall I overcome,

in You shall I have victory,

through You shall I be delivered;

stay with me forever,

strengthen my weakening defenses,

prepare my heart for the coming battle,

let me be triumphant in the face of defeat;

bring me home to You.

.

.

Spared

quietly we waited for the dawn attack,

silently hiding within the refuge of the

dark, lonely night,

sleep was impossible as we tried

to hang on to every minute,

every second,

knowing they would likely be

our last,

on the other side

the enemy waited also,

just as afraid,

just as unsure,

soon it would be us or them,

kill or be killed,

for most this would be their

last day on earth;

many openly wept,

remembering mothers and fathers,

sisters and wives,

brothers and children,

I saw the face of my wife

as she had looked before

the war,

before the madness,

before the chaos,

before the hatred,

sweet and serene,

I was glad she had died

early,

being spared the emptiness

of what we had now become,

the monsters we had all been

reduced too,

capable of any cruelty,

living only for death and revenge,

reflections of what had

once been human;

I was glad she had been spared.

.

.

In The End

Jesus looked directly at them and asked, “Then what is the meaning of that which is written: ‘The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone’? Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, but he on whom it falls will be crushed.”   Luke 20:17-18

when I was 18 I was the real deal,

the high school, jock, superstar,

the golden boy

with the golden touch,

class president,

everything to everyone;

it was an image

I spent most of my adolescent years

perfecting;

I could have married the hometown girl,

bought a house in my parents neighborhood,

spent the next 30 or 40 years

making a comfortable living,

gathering after work at the local bar

with all the other hometown boys,

living off old press clippings

and exaggerated sexual conquests,

collecting interest on Friday night touchdowns

and Saturday morning hangovers;

instead I did everything I could

to kill who and what I was,

I wandered,

I searched,

I smoked,

I drank,

I snorted,

I embarrassed,

I lied,

I deceived,

I failed;

I burned every bridge,

I slept with whores,

I broke man-made laws

and spiritual taboos,

I sinned against man,

I sinned against God;

but in the end

I was still here,

stuck in the same skin,

unable to escape,

unable to change,

unable to be anything

but what I was,

trapped by the truth

living inside;

in the end,

I became exactly

what I was destined to be,

and You were still there,

knocking,

whispering;

waiting;

in the end

You put Your arms around me,

quietly whispering;

“Don’t be afraid, just believe”

forgiving the beatings,

forgiving the humiliation,

forgiving the suffering,

forgiving the pain,

forgiving the torture,

forgiving the isolation,

endured by You;

for the evil committed by me;

in the end,

You forgave the sins

of a world not worthy

to kiss the dust beneath Your feet;

in the end,

You shined Your light before me

and my eyes were blind no more;

in the end,

I will stand before the throne of Your glory

and the joy shall be forever.

.

.

When You Love Someone The Way That I Love You

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.   1 Corinthians 13:4-7

when you love someone the way

that I love you,

they are with you every second,

of every minute,

of every hour,

of every day,

they go everywhere you go,

they do everything you do,

you see their face in every face,

you hear their voice in every voice,

you care about them more than anything

in this world;

more than eating,

more than sleeping,

more than breathing,

more than life;

when you love someone the way

that I love you,

you hold them in your thoughts,

you see them in your dreams,

you feel them in your soul,

you grow old with them,

you share your deepest desires

with them,

you live and die for them;

when you love someone the way

that I love you,

you don’t see the flaws,

you don’t see the imperfections

because they live in your soul,

and the soul does not see what the

mind sees,

the soul only sees the beauty,

the soul only sees the perfection,

the soul only sees the best;

when you love someone the way

that I love you,

there are no conditions,

no expectations,

no demands,

you look for nothing in return,

you only want to give them everything

you have to give,

you only want their happiness;

when you love someone the way

that I love you,

words are inadequate.

.

.

On The Road

funny things go through your head

when you’re 12 hrs into your third

5 hr energy shot and you’ve been

driving for 17 hrs,

watching the trip meter go past

979, with 60 left to go,

so you drink another rockstar,

hoping your heart won’t explode,

squinting, as you try to stay

between the lines,

wondering if the lights coming

up from behind

are going to smash into you

or pass on by;

approaching a line of cars,

emergency flashers going,

trapped behind a drunk

weaving from the shoulder

to the passing lane,

timing your pass as he veers

towards the shoulder

you blow by him,

happy you got a car

with enough power

to make the maneuver;

you begin to understand

what is important

and what isn’t;

you start to realize

who your friends really are

and who they aren’t,

who loves you

and who doesn’t;

as you concentrate on getting

back to the only one who ever

has.

.

.

Home

sitting in this greasy, all night, Michigan redneck café,

sipping dark stale coffee,

listening to the local philosophers as they eat their breakfast,

on their way to dry-walling and other assorted craft jobs,

indoors of course, getting too cold for outside work,

discussing the beating death of a Wyoming fag (their word),

and how the poor ole boys who did it will never get a fair trial

with all the negative publicity,

and what is this world coming too,

when you can’t even bash a few fags around

and get away with it,

after all, they was just having a little fun,

they didn’t actually mean to kill the little fucker (chuckles all around);

listening the thought occurs

that with just a different twist of fate

I could be sitting at that table

with all the other small town know-it-alls,

discussing world politics and Wyoming fags

and it is then that I realized I don’t belong here anymore,

just as the swamplands and muskrats of south jersey

do not belong here,

this place I once called home has become just another town

of strangers I no longer know

nor care too;

this place leaves me feeling so empty and impotent;

I think of my wife,

the woman who has been with me

for more years than I once lived in this place,

the woman whose touch still electrifies me,

the woman who has become my one constant,

my only reality,

the one thing I can depend on,

together we have built a new home,

free from family or friends interference;

she is where I belong,

she is my home.

.

.

than you

I have written many things in my life,

thought many thoughts,

fantasized many fantasies,

dreamed many dreams,

but none of them

are more important

than you;

I have written of imaginary lovers

and foolish ideas,

all of which

seemed so important

but were nothing,

nothing at all,

compared to the love

you and I share,

you are the reality

which keeps me holding on

to this life,

the touch

I long to feel,

the voice

I long to hear

at the end of the day,

when nothing seems real,

when nothing is true,

as all the thoughts and ideas

go drifting away

like smoke

from a burning campfire,

you are the part of me

I can never let go

no matter how hard

this need to destroy

everything that I touch

has tried;

there is no one

I would rather be with

than you.

.

.

More

she has been by my side

for more than half her life,

she has been my lover,

my best friend,

the part of me

that has allowed survival

in a world so dark and lost;

she is my strength,

my foundation,

I need her

like the dawn

needs the sun,

like the night

needs the moon,

the light

which guides the way;

if I could

I would give her more;

words cannot say

what her and I have,

nor can they replace

this life that we have shared,

she builds me up

when I am down,

she continues to believe

in us when I give

her no reason;

if I could

I would give her more.

.

.

Safe

“Good morning Mr. Alexsan….. um Anatoly” she said,

I wasn’t sure when she had entered the room,

I only knew that she was there;

finally;

I had thought of very little else

the entire night;

I imagined what she must look like,

I felt the touch of her fingers as she

checked my bandages,

it felt like electricity,

crackling and popping;

“how did you sleep?” she asked,

“I’m not sure that I did” I replied,

“well you must have slept some,

the overnight nurse wrote that

you were snoring very loudly

when she checked on you.” she chuckled,

we laughed together;

I had not laughed like that

since before the war,

with my wife,

that thought brought it

all back;

her death,

dying little girls,

Tukarov,

the brutality,

the savagery,

the gas,

the sounds of gasping,

the coughing,

the weeping,

the darkness;

“Anatoly, Anatoly,

it’s okay” she whispered,

holding me in her arms,

and for the first time

in a very long time

I felt safe.

.

.

Right and Wrong

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead I have called you friends, for everything I have learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other.   John 15: 9-17

in America being poor is a death sentence,

in America your pocket book determines

the level of respect you receive,

in America you either love it or leave it;

how easily it is forgotten that this nation

was founded by people who didn’t ‘like’ it,

but instead of leaving they fought a

violent and bloody war,

or how a hundred years later the nation was

literally torn in two as brother fought brother

because one side didn’t ‘like’ it,

it makes me wonder just who the

real patriots are;

to be honest,

I don’t care one way or the other,

this nation, this government, this world

are only what they are allowed to be,

by a God who sees and knows all things,

this nation does not have any more power, wealth or wisdom

than Rome or Greece or any other great civilization before it,

this nation exists only because the Lord God wills it to exist;

in colonial days there were preachers in England

and the colonies who stood up in their pulpits

declaring that those who didn’t like being a British colony

should get on their mules, or whatever people used back then, and leave,

branding Washington and the other leaders of the revolution

as criminals and traitors,

the difference being Washington and the revolutionaries won

and it is the victors who write history,

plain and simple,

so you should take care who you call a criminal

or who you tell to leave if they don’t ‘like’ it,

because you just might find yourself on the

wrong side of God’s will;

unless you presume to know more than God;

so don’t get caught up in who is right or who is wrong,

try not to take sides in the affairs of men at all,

seek the will of the Lord first,

trust in Him without leaning to your

own understanding.

.

.

Opposition

in a dream they gathered

at the border,

old,

young,

women,

children,

frightened,

confused,

tears in their eyes,

fear on their faces,

mother’s begging,

father’s pleading;

passage denied;

the jets roared in from the west,

low and fast,

sleek and shiny,

guns blazing,

rockets streaking;

running,

screaming,

crying,

mass extermination,

total annihilation,

complete death,

opposition crushed;

deplorable no more.

.

.

Sand Creek

Sand Creek;

the truth dances like a ghost,

a mighty wind whispering

through the silence of the night;

who will hear the voices?

who will right the wrong?

hard to love

when so much injustice abounds,

hard to forgive when innocent blood

runs across stolen ground,

dirty little secrets hidden in time,

deep dark memories from which

you can never escape,

it follows you like a shadow,

softly surrounding you like a glove,

slowly blending into who you are,

silently determining what you become,

all the treachery and cowardice revealed,

the self-made bravado and

false heroics silently exposed,

sons of murderers,

daughters of liars and thieves,

descendants of swine,

a little lower than dogs,

somewhat less than human;

without honor,

without dignity,

without hope;

their homes built upon

hypocrisy and greed,

their tongues filled with

misconceptions and lies,

their legacy standing like

a wavering deck of cards,

waiting to crash down

upon their guilt-ridden heads;

Sand Creek remembers.

.

.

gas

then came the gas,

sinister and silent,

a soft whump here,

a subtle thump there,

followed by

swiftly rolling fog,

at first we weren’t even sure

what was happening,

many started dropping

before the thought

of donning a mask could

even be thought;

it seemed like such an ironic,

and cruel twist of fate,

to have come so far,

only to be destroyed by

such a thing

as this;

everywhere men lay choking,

gasping for breath,

their faces twisted in deadly

agony,

those who managed

to put on their masks

powerless to help,

the burning of skin

hardly noticed by the joy

of protected lungs and

internal organs

from this slow and

evil death;

I thought of Tukarov,

I thought of my wife,

I thought of innocent little girls,

lying cold and limp in my

trembling arms,

I thought;

such a waste,

such an incredible,

stupid waste;

who has won?

who has lost?

all I could do

was cry.

.

.

sunrise

there was silence now,

broken only by an occasional

scream or moan,

flashes of far-off cannon fire

lit up the distant horizon,

an eerie reverence permeated

the air,

we rested slumped against

one another,

staring blankly into the early

morning sky,

only hours before it was insanity,

unimaginable horror,

a great tidal wave of madness

and fury,

everywhere lay bodies

locked together in death,

covered in blood,

covered in guts,

everything a weapon,

broken guns,

bayonets,

rocks,

fists,

fingernails;

in the end it had

come down to teeth;

the sun was beginning to rise,

steam rolled off the sea

of carnage that lay

before us,

our nostrils saturated

with the stench of rotten flesh;

it was sacred,

almost holy.

.

.

Collateral

I held her in my arms

as the life slipped from her

small, frail body,

she couldn't have been more

than 7 or 8 I thought

as I looked into her cold,

lifeless eyes staring blankly

into the clouds above,

only moments before

the roar of the jet had filled

the afternoon sky,

then a blinding light followed

by deafening sound;

then silence;

now this child

lay broken and torn

in my bloody arms,

I had seen her in the

neighborhood before,

always laughing,

always smiling,

beautiful;

innocent;

later the news would

say the attack was a

coordinated effort

by government forces,

dropping a laser-guided smart bomb

on a known terrorist safe-house,

killing 15 with only minor

collateral damage and loss

of life;

all-in-all a pretty good

day for the 'good guys'.

.

.

The Great War

I lost a great deal

in that war,

we all did,

friends and

neighbors,

family,

possessions,

wealth,

everything,

yet we lived,

I sometimes wonder

who the lucky

ones were;

those who perished or

those who survived;

like most wars,

no one could say

how it began,

it had no beginning

no end,

it simply came and

went,

like measles

or the flu,

when it was over

those who were left

simply picked up the pieces

and started over;

there was very little choice;

they said it was the war

to end all wars,

just like all the wars

before it,

no one really cared one

way or the other,

the time for caring

had long since come

and gone,

now there was simply

living or dying,

breathing or not breathing,

seeing or not seeing,

surviving or perishing;

a world of our own creation,

a nightmare of our own doing.

.

.