Only the Wind Remains

your beauty fades, the darkness of night

does approach, there is no truth left,

no more hope before the dawn,

this moment of ordinary clarity disappears,

chance encounters inside realms of

creative laughter;

another answer,

another possibility,

only the wind remains;

words flow like delicate swans, wrapping themselves

in royal robes of comfort, deep within

the sound of your breath, soft and secure,

speaking unknown mysteries and telling tales of

untold valor, staggering like drunken sailors on

maiden voyages, weaving inside blurred lines of

forgotten innocence, lost upon midnight dreams,

unable to grasp even the fundamentals;

the window is closing, the time almost here,

the silence roars without a sound,

the hour upon which it stands grows near;

only the wind remains.

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Not Much

it may not be much, but it’s mine;

not some teacher’s,

not some mentor’s,

not someone else’s idea

of good or bad;

it is mine;

it tears them apart,

knowing they spent years,

learning all the rules,

all the techniques,

all the proper pronouns,

all the perfect suffixes,

paying all the dues,

establishing all the provenances,

only to find out it’s all bullshit;

it’s either there,

or it isn’t;

I have seen their lies,

I have watched their hypocrisy,

I have heard their almost truths,

I have bought into their system,

I have accepted their penalty,

I have paid their price:

I am free.

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Today Will Have to Wait

I started to get dressed, instead, all I could do

was lay back down;

today will have to wait;

that is how it is, when the clock runs down,

but it continues to move, so there is still hope;

on television, angry crowds protest,

screaming words of hate at little children,

staring out of bus windows,

wondering what they have done wrong,

to be the objects of such maniacal wrath,

when the truth is, they have done nothing

except be born, in a world where might

makes right, and wealth demands privilege;

the mob stands firm, in their positions of moral

and political correction, but their comments,

their words, their agendas, their motives,

their ulterior objectives, their over the top protest,

silently gives them away;

in it all, there is fear,

in it all is self-preservation,

in it all is greed;

I no longer participate in this self-illusion,

this mockery, this secret subterfuge,

this moral dilemma, it is what it is,

nothing can change it, nothing can undo it,

darkness knows not mercy,

evil has it’s day;

good people, blinded by hate,

drowning in the cesspool of their own

self-righteousness;

today will have to wait.

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A Day at the Mall

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.   1 John 2:15-17

He also told them this parable: “Can the blind lead the blind? Will they not both fall into a pit? The student is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like their teacher.   Luke 6:39-40

I look at the latest gadgets, the coolest toys,

the ultimate possessions;

all I see are things;

pieces of trash, dead, useless,

plastic, lifeless;

my soul yearns for more,

my soul yearns for You;

I have spoken the words You gave me,

I have shared the truth You taught me,

I am tired, I am worn,

there is nothing left,

nothing I desire;

I am ready for what

comes next;

blind guides leading the blind,

in love with the sound of their own voices,

lost within the illusion,

deceived by their own vanity,

fading fountains of mist,

disappearing clouds of vapor;

here today,

gone tomorrow;

bring me home to You.

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The Way, the Truth, the Life

Jesus answered: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”   John 14:6-7

truth, when the last breath has been breathed,

when the fantasies and illusions are stripped away,

when the imposters and wannabes have all faded;

what else is there?

truth does not come easy,

it lies hidden among the wreckage

and excess baggage,

simple and plain, without motive or agenda,

without prejudice or conditions,

no compromise, no faltering,

no respecter of persons,

truth is not dependent on belief or faith,

it stands sparkling and clear,

shining like the sun in the eyes of a child;

truth stands alone;

many claim truth, twisting and turning facts,

attempting to fit preconceived ideas,

creating vast empty empires complete with

testimonies of flesh and blood,

monuments of self-glorification,

exercises in futility, deceiving themselves and others

with grand ideas and philosophical babble,

crumbling like dust into the morning mist,

but in the end truth remains,

in the end truth will be all there is,

in the end there is only one Way, one Life;

one Truth.

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Looking in the Mirror

woke up last night, felt like I‘d been asleep for days,

looked at the clock and only a few minutes

had passed by, sometimes even the truth

is just too hard to bear, but we are what we are,

that’s just a natural fact, as inescapable

as the morning sun;

sooner or later, the road always leads

back to here;

I’ve been to the end and back, but it doesn’t

mean a thing, because it always come down to this,

it makes me wonder what the point really is,

when it just goes round and round;

I like things that are real, Bukowski, Hooker,

things which are natural, wolves and Native Americans,

I hate smooth talking poets and slick playing musicians,

things which pass themselves off as the real deal;

when they are not;

perhaps this is the reason I’ve never learned

to like myself.

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A Long Way

if I could still feel the wind,

you know that I would,

but the voices come slowly now,

like strangers in the night,

never quite sure when or if they

will return, as mystery gives way to bright,

white illumination, hot and searing,

seeking inner truths, but finding only minor

revelations and hidden indecision;

you and I old friend, have come a

long way, on a journey without beginning,

without end, you have shown me a tomorrow,

while withstanding the yesterdays,

and for this I shall love you forever.

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