No Walls

The Church has no walls
as we suffer and serve.
The Church has no walls
but we've a load of nerve.
The nerve to get up.
The nerve to go out.
The nerve to pitch in.
The nerve to walk on.

The Church has no walls
but bridges to build.
The Church has no walls
just as Christ willed.
The will to speak up.
The will to reach out.
The will to stand in.
The will to carry on.

Brother, pick-up, Syria's on line one
shipments of love are en-route.
Sister, a cry came up from the coast.
Crates of compassion are needed right now.
The Heavenly Father has boots on the grounds,
receiving the calls.
The Church has no walls.
The Church has no walls.

TODAY, I REBELLED

Today, I did not eat the Black Angus mega-burger, with cheese.
Today, I lost my remote control(s)...on purpose.
Today, I talked with my next-door neighbor for 22 consecutive minutes.
Today, I told my radio to "SHUT UP!"
Today, I remembered what my grandmother taught me.
Today, I went up to the roof.
Today, I played the sweet song of silence.
Today, I shook hands on the sidewalk. No tracts. No signs.
Today, I listened far more than I spoke.
Today, I did not sip the five-dollar Hooka-Chaka-Hooka-Chaka-Supreme-Grande-Latte.
Today, naptime was interrupted by a dream.
Today, I peeled away the coating of the prevailing culture from my limbs...from my teeth...from my tongue...from my eyes.
Just so I could tell You about it.
It was hard.

A Humbled House

You came all this way - all this way just to meet with me.
You knocked on my door for nothing more than to eat with me.
Step into a humbled house.

Here is a room of the debts I owe; how I will pay, I do not know.
Here is a box of grudges and gripes; these are the ones I cradle at night.

I'd try to clean, but it's not worth the sweat.
There are pains I can't reach and lurking regrets,
so nothing goes hidden from You.

I have not much but lies to swallow; the outsides are sweet but the insides hollow.
On this shelf I keep my fears; when one fades away another appears.

(and) You came all this way - all this way just to meet with me?
You knocked on my door for nothing more than to eat with me?
Welcome to a humbled house.

Lead Me Not

A new passage is ending;
the shadows spill around.
Lead me not to darkness,
where the mind manufactures what is false.
Lead me not.

Dial You up; dial me down.
Get a signal, or give a sign.
Let Your Spirit touch mine.
Hold fast my hand,
that I'll not fall behind.

A new passage is over;
the light leaks in.
Lead me not to breaking dawn,
where senses succumb to what is true.
Lead me not.

Lift You up; let me down.
Paint a picture or draw a line,
let Your Spirit touch mine.
Breathe into my body,
and kick my behind.

So broken by the day.
So tempted by the night.
Lead me to neither; lead me not.

Jesus wept.
But why?
Knowing what lay ahead
moments away...
Was it because
He had not come,
when He heard
Lazarus might die?
Lazarus was dead!
Was it sympathy
with their raw grief,
faith's impotent lack?
Or could it be
because He
had to bring him
back?
                    - Ruth Bell Graham

REVEREND HAITI'S REPRISE

The Lord pours mercy from one hand

and judgement from the other.

He is no respecter of persons,

sisters, senators, or brothers.

The Scriptures say "the earth

is the Lord's" and everything in it.

He can crush a nation

in a decade or a minute.

You ask for a prayer

though my cupboard is reaching bare,

I raise my voice and bend my knees

to see if the words are there;

FATHER remember:

the child sipping from the bathtub

Haiti

grandmother six days under rubble

Haiti

the malnourished babe at the malnourished breast

Haiti

the bleak and wandering hours

Haiti

the nights of too little light

Haiti

the bloodshed for breakfast

Haiti

the armpit of the West

Haiti

the children of God

Haiti

THE CHILDREN OF GOD!

Haiti

where the ground betrayed our feet

VIGILANTE

There is war in my gun,

and also in yours.

If we let fly the muzzles will roar.

Come Drug-pusher;

bring your store.

I will trade you bullets 'til you want no more.

Come Gang-banger!

Come Dirty Cop!

Let me feed you vengeance until I drop.

Come now Rapist

and Mugger along!

Your ears will hate a semi-automatic song.

Enter this section

and be welcomed by Death.

This vigilante has no other neighbors left.

REVEREND HAITI

Reverend Haiti,

I have no prayers remaining.

My hope is beneath rubble;

my eyes see only trouble;

my voice is defeated;

my good water depleted.

I have no prayers remaining,

Reverend Haiti.

I cry on my sea

of death and debris;

my wounds need sutures;

my neighbors need futures.

My Lord saves souls

but does He save cities.

My God saves sinners

but does He save citizens.

My Lord saves the lost

but does He save the losers.

My God died and rose

but we die and rot.

Reverend Haiti,

I have no words remaining.

Can you spare a prayer?

LUCY

Before the one man band.

Before the Firebird's embers.

Into the Apple's night.

Right beside the water's body.

Walk with me, woman.

Woman, walk with me.

Locked in a driving mind,

thoughts like a millstone grind

and bring me to bended knee

to mumble to my Father.

Kneel with me, woman.

Woman, kneel with me.

In sunlight of western day.

In shadow of southern evening.

Upon the village streets.

Or at the kitchen's table.

Delight with me, woman.

Woman, delight with me.

This morning I saw your smile,

and could not help but drift a while,

away from the ill at ease,

away with the Sunday breeze.

Woman, abide with me

through whatever may be.

Abide with me, Lucy.

Lucy, abide with me.

GOD, Part 3

I don't believe in hunger

while the fat feed their face.

I don't believe that peace and hope

are lost without a trace.

I can't believe all I do

reflects upon my race.

But I believe in God.

I don't believe that politics

can get us very far.

I don't believe in texting

while driving a car.

I can't believe good women

find good men in a bar.

But I believe in God.

I don't believe the worst plagues

come from monkeys and bugs.

I don't believe my hometown's

a breeding ground for thugs.

I can't believe the days I spend

leaning on these drugs.

But I believe in God.

I don't believe any girl

would be this boy's wife.

I don't believe I'm safer

with a gun or a knife.

I can't believe the methods

people find to end life.

But I believe in God.

I don't believe anyone who

resists being free.

I don't believe the movie stars

are better than me.

I can't believe some people

only trust what they can see.

But I believe in God.

I don't believe intercourse

can cure my every pain.

I don't believe scenes

surging through my brain.

I can't believe how many years

I've been chasing this train.

But I must

believe in God.

ZION AWAITS

As worries flood the night-time

As sin shames the day

As redemption sounds in the distance like a bell on a hill

Zion awaits

Pain is our eldest currency

lining the pockets of endless hearts:

The love I wanted...

The anger I bore...

Still,

the Name I called while underneath,

crawling and bawling and bawling and crawling

as worries flooded the night

and sin shamed the day

and redemption sounded in the distance,

is in Zion.

And Zion awaits.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father cheering me

Unabashed and free

Father cheering me

So memorable to see

The sound of my old man

The sound of clapping hands

Father cheering me

With gray-haired glee

THE EGYPTIAN

It was the saddest morning.
My mother cried and cried.
The shadows all were mourning,
where my eldest brother had died.

The slaves called it a blessing.
The pharaoh called it a curse.
But it came from the heavens,
and reached my house first.

The kingdom was so shaken,
it staggered day and night.
Our strength was everso taken
that the slaves took flight.

My father took up his armor;
took up his favorite sword.
And rallying his anger,
joined the pharaoh's hordes.

They found them under noon's sky
with all their poverty owned.
The horsemen were on standby
'til the slaughter horns were blown.

The slaves saw flashing spearheads,
and ran against the sea.
Then, I think, my father
thought of my brother and me.

The advancing order was given.
The chariots rolled in packs.
But a stunning fire had risen,
to stop them in their tracks.

The slaves wheeeled 'round in terror,
and marched into the flood.
Someone is their ally,
but not of flesh and blood.

The fire made end of stalling;
the soldiers bore down on the slaves.
Then the wall of waves came falling
to grant them watery graves.

My father was an Egyptian
whose pride got in his way.
He warred against God's children,
and drowned in armor one day.

Another Music Man

Loud
Loud as a drum
then a rattle
then a hum.
Not a club,
but the temple of my Lord.
The rhythm rose from foot to hand -
my clapping hand.
God must be a boogie man.

Smooth
smooth as guitar.
Reaching out
from afar.
Brothers and sisters rise then fall.
Chords so blessed we can't stand -
we cannot stand.
God must be a soulful man.

Thumpin'
thumpin' like a bass.
With cuts and scratches
in my face.
The heads bangin'
in the house of the Almighty.
They close each eye and lift each hand -
each iced-out/rocked-up hand.
God must be a hip-hop man.

Deep
deep as a hymn.
And conviction
of my sin.
The throats get lumped in this pew.
Was it a plan -
a divine/physiological/unearthly/slightly manipulative plan?
God must be a music man.

Isn't He?

Final Sleep

Closer to ending
to breaking or bending
in final sleep.
My best suit,
my best party,
my best rest
is bound for a beginning
as I edge toward ending -
on soul ascending and body expending
in final sleep.

THE BOOK

I held the book so tightly in my hand.

I wanted to see You,

and You to see me.

The many names I could not understand,

but I wanted to see You,

and You see me.

I went pawing; something was gnawing.

Could there be space for me

by Your side?

I hold the words so tightly in my heart.

I want to know You,

and You to know me.

The many times I tore myself apart,

but I want to know You,

and You know me.

When I am reading, I am needing

to find some place for me

by Your side.

DR. SOMALIA

Wipe the bloody table;

swat a fly or two.

Breathe, if you are able.

The next trauma awaits you...

Room number one

was bitten by a gun,

and complains of feeling cold.

His heart barely sounds;

he's forty-five pounds.

We think he is nine years old.

Wipe the bloody table.

The next trauma awaits you...

Room number two

may just have a flu.

She's a foreign correspondant

for a Fox News crew

She saw the devastation;

couldn't take the situation.

Misplaced her medication,

and wants something new.

Children of the villages growing too small.

UN Peace-keepers waiting in the hall.

Pus-covered instruments making skin crawl.

Such pestilence and guns, the world can't see all.

Breathe, if you are able.

The next trauma awaits you...

Room number three

is something to see.

Aren't they from your tribe?

The hut they kept

was torched as they slept.

And they need a place to hide.

Wipe the bloody landscape;

swat a fly or two.

Swallow all your heartache;

the next trauma awaits you...

About A Judge

When Gideon went to Midian

he had too many swords

many too many

many too many

to fight the unholy hordes.

When Gideon went to Midian

he heard the word of the Lord

"Too many men!

Many too many".

to fight the heathen sword.

When Gideon went to Midian

he asked who was afraid

sending home soldiers

sending home soldiers

But still too many stayed.

Gideon went to water

saying "drink all you can"

sending home soldiers

sending home soldiers

who did not drink as a man.

When Gideon went to Midian

he had three hundred swords

just enough

just enough

to glorify the Lord.

REAL GOOD FOR FREE

I slept last night in a good hotel.

I went shopping today for jewels.

The wind rushed around in the dirty town.

And the children let out from the schools.

I was standing on a noisy corner,

waiting for the walking green.

Across the street he stood,

and he played real good for free.

Now me I play for fortune

and those velvet curtain calls.

I've got a black limousine

and two gentleman

escorting me to these halls.

And I play if you have the money

or if you're some kind of friend to me.

But the one man band

by the quick lunch stand

he was playing real good, for free.

Nobody stopped to hear him

though he played so sweet and high.

They knew he had never

been on their TV.

So they passed his music by.

I meant to go over and ask for a song -

maybe put on a harmony.

I heard his refrain

as the signal changed.

He was playing real good, for free

- Joni Mitchell

The Break-Up

She arose to go to service,
while I stared at the sun.
And little did I realize
the break-up had begun.

I slither to the living room
with last night on my face.
She glides out the front door,
and hums "Amazing Grace".
Turning to the TV
I let the ballgame run.
And little did I realize
the break-up had begun.

Creeping to the afternoon,
in serenity I lie.
Breaking up my daydream,
the baby gives a cry!
Where is that woman?
Why isn't worship done?!
Little did I realize
the break-up had begun.

Guidry's got 'em 3-an-2,
and all may be lost.
For 8 and 2/3 innings
a no-hit game was tossed.
She brings in "fruit of the Spirit"
but I did not notice one.
And little did I realize
the break-up had begun.

She arose to start a new life,
while I held my only one.
And little did I realize
the break-up had begun.

Grace Did Not Get Stoned

They found Grace
in some man's embrace.
Grabbed her by the waist
and slapped her face.
Dragged her in disgrace
right out of the place.
They had a perfect case
to throw in His face.
He was teaching of a Kingdom - a heavenly place,
when along comes this gang, with Grace by the waist.
"Here we have Grace,
with shame on her face.
We caught her in sin and utter disgrace.
You know the Law! There is no time to waste;
gather up stones and move with haste!"

"Is it for blood that you have a taste?
Then the perfect among you be the first to place
a stone in her face!
Right now, in this place!
But you must be sinless, with not even a trace."

And then it was the gang with shame on face.
They dropped each stone, and lost their taste.
They spun on their heels to depart from the place.
There was not one of them without some disgrace.
So he and Grace were alone in the place.
A scene as quiet as outer space.

"I know, dear one, you have not been chaste.
But I forgive your every disgrace.
Go then, and when you have a sinful taste,
remember this day and the look on My face.
And recall that your name is intentionally : Grace".

Salvation Dream

Salvation dream come true
I'm back at the barstool
Make an old mind anew
I'm running to the racetrack
I know my hands ain't through
I'm ill at emergency
Make an old mind anew
I'm leaning in a line-up
Your every word is true
I'm ogleing the old man
Salvation dream come true
I'm hanging in her handbag
Make an old mind anew
I'm kneeling to a needle
I know my soul ain't through
I'm back at the altar
Your every word is true
I'm back at the altar
Salvation dream come true
I'm back at the altar
Make an old mind anew

A SEXLESS MAN

She's turned off 'cause she's been respected.
Your virginity is quietly rejected.
She feels her needs are physically neglected.
You are offered friendship and you'd best accept it.
In her estimation, you are getting in the way.
You are not prepared for her kind of play.
You are officially selected -
a sexless man.

I will make my love to my wife, Miss.

You are God's child, and you live correct.
You are charming, so sisters don't suspect
that intercourse is not your sole object.

She's turned on by a man's advances.
But the godly man does not take chances.
He is chaste as he gently romances.
Modest even as he slow-dances.
In her estimation, she won't get her way.
He is not the sort of sport for her kind of play.
She woefully glances
at a sexless man.

I will make my love to my wife, Miss.

I HUNG MY HEAD

Early one morning with time to kill

I borrowed Jeb's rifle and sat on the hill

I saw a lone rider crossing the plain

I drew a bead on him to practice my aim

Then my brother's rifle went off in my hand

A shot rang out across the land

The horse he kept running; the rider was dead

I hung my head; I hung my head

I set off running to wake from the dream

and my brother's rifle went into the stream

I kept on running into the salt lands

And that's where they found me my head in my hands

The sheriff he asked me why had I run

Then it came to me just what I had done

And all for no reason, just one piece of lead

I hung my head; I hung my head

Here in the courthouse, the whole town is there

I see the judge - high up in his chair

explain to the courtroom what went through your mind

and we'll ask the jury what verdict they find

I said I felt the power of death over life

I orphaned his children; I widowed his wife

I beg their forgiveness; I wish I was dead

I hung my head; I hung my head

Early one morning with time to kill

I see the gallows up on the hill

and out on the distance - a trick of the brain

I see a lone rider crossing the plain

He's come to fetch me to see what they've done

Then we'll ride together til kingdom come

I pray for God's mercy for soon I'll be dead

I hung my head; I hung my head

- STING

Sometimes Selfish

Sometimes the words run cold, 

even as the heart teems with feeling.

Her I love.

Her love want I more.

Selfish am I.

I want to be selfless.

And as free as I can be

...yet I want her with me.

Sometimes the words run cold,

even as the man teems with feeling. 

A World Entire

the world is a room 

a room for stacking and stuffing,

for dreaming and drawing, for loving and learning,

a room for educating and encouraging 

and for escaping

a room can be a world entire

...until Daddy picks up

NACIA DE NUEVO (born again)

I must say
it's quite insane
that I derive my pleasure
from pain.
I bear this burdening, unwashed stain.
What must I do to be saved?

My brother says
his firm worldview
is to cheat the ones
who are cheating, too.
But his brand of spite is nothing new.
What must he do to be saved?

My sister won't ever tell
that a man broke her nose
and heart, as well,
driving her to a shameful shell.
What must she do to be saved?

A day without rain
is my mother's goal,
for her highest hopes
have circled the bowl.
The years and tears have taken a toll.
What must she do to be saved?

I climb this tree
in the midst of night,
and see this Teacher
by campfire light.
Then His voice bids me come,
saying He knows what
I need saving from.

You must say
it's quite insane
to rest my soul
on Another's name;
to be a man grown yet born again.
So,
what must you do to be saved?

THE CHILD ALONE (for Haley)

Rock me somebody.
Someone hold me.
Whatever helps the home alone
no one has told me.

This string of days turns into a life
that was never noticed by most.
While the phone needs answering,
the kitchen needs cooking,
the house needs some living in,
and this child needs loving - some combing and brushing -
some Monday morning motivating - and Friday night snuggling.

Lift me somebody.
Arms of hope, hold me.
Whatever helps the child alone
no one has told me.

A GOOD WALK

A big girl with a little dog;
a little girl with a big dog;
a painted man with a loud hog (vroom vroom);
skateboards in the parking lot,
just a stroll 'till the day gets hot.
Loosen up the necktie knot
for a good walk.

An old house gets the new paint;
a green yard gets porcelain saints;
the old lady feels a little faint (pant pant);
sweet breeze from the east side;
proud homes sit side by side.
Step away from a speeding bike ride
on a good walk.

I saw my face in the glass...Jesus.
Turned my head away fast...Jesus.
I got bread for the day...Jesus.
could You keep the devil away...Jesus.
We take a trip thru our town;
we feel the sunlight spilling down;
I see Your grace leak all around...Jesus.
Sometimes its like a minefield - narrow is the pathway
Give me a good walk...Jesus.

TOO MUCH RIVER (The Floods of "08)

Like a groupie of disaster
I rowed down the river.
It was big; it was mighty,
but I had water to deliver.
I travelled to a landing
and stared in disbelief
as some bailed in floods
with their homes underneath.
The stench of sitting sewage was constant in the air.
Mosquitoes flew to suck from any skin that was bare.
So, I handed a bottle to any person that was there.
Then the brown river took me on...

Yonder is a raft
with a woman who has cried.
There's a cellphone, a towel,
and dead infant just beside.
When the neighbors washed away
it shouldn't get any worse.
Then she couldn't reach the child
and a snake found him first.
The stench of sitting sewage was constant thru the day.
Too many mosquitoes to swat them all away.
So, I gave her a bottle and held hands to pray.
Soon the brown river drove me on...

Wish I had a desert
and an extra-large cup.
Wish I had a staff
to hold the waters up.
Wish I had faith
to walk right across.
Wish I had an ark
so none would be lost.
Wish I were a genius today.

A cross of red mercy
flies above a western bank;
an outpost with sandbags
and people to thank.
The courage of a country
is treading in the waves,
and everyone abandons fear
that some might be saved.
The stench of sitting sewage lingers in the air.
Far too many mosquitoes for a body to bear.
Still we stop to offer whatever we can share.
Until the brown river lets us alone.

LOUISE, Part 2

In the ER chairs
as the sun gave up the day,
Pop held on to Ina,
and yet she slipped away.
Oh Louise, help him please.
Later, in a frenzy,
he broke and lost his way.
Pop could not see Jesus
amid his world's decay.
But there's Louise, on her knees.

Another night in Harlem,
another heart brought down.
If you listened for compassion,
you'd hardly hear a sound.
Oh Louise, help him please.
Just make it to the daylight.
Pop, just make it home.
If you shut out all the world,
you are bound to be alone.
Savior please, she's on her knees.

A brick house in the Bronx
became a kind of haven.
Pop found a place
for a soul's quiet saving.
And Louise gave him keys.
A child for every season
had his heart swell
and lent loving relief
to Louise as well.
Oh Louise, Ina's pleased.

LOUISE, Part 1

She walked the city sidewalk
and heard the siren's tease.
She wondered about that boy,
but God kept Louise - kept her strong; gave her a song.

The boy had too much party
and fell in winter's freeze.
He took her teenage brother,
but God left Louise - left her torn; let her mourn.

The telephone rang again
and drew her from ease.
She was told about her boy,
but God stilled Louise - stilled her mind, through the time.

JUST FRIENDS

Nothing is heard when I walk with you,
but homes are burning inside us two.
April: hands wringing
May: bugs stinging, nerves exposing more and more
June: time's wasting, spirits squirming to the core
July: we want to die
in July, oh July

Take my heart from your heel!
Please return what you steal!
Have you no regard for how I feel?!
Have you any regard?

Something is heard when I walk alone:
a saddened, sorry, inward groan.
August: nothing doing
September: something's brewing, feelings rising more and more
October: time's ticking, a hole's forming in the core
November: we both remember
last November
and just friends

I Learned to Love (for Robin)

I learned to love you
a few years back.
The Spirit touched me
just like that.
After countless days
of hating your ways,
the Spirit taught me
just like that.

I saw the picture
a few years back,
not just the flaws
and every crack.
Not just the hurt
and all of the dirt,
not just the flaws
and every crack.

Frustration
Indignation
Consideration
Contemplation
Prostration
Revelation
Salvation

I learned to love you
a few years back.
Took the trash out
just like that.
From cellar to dome,
it was fouling my home.
Took the trash out
just like that.

. . .gone tomorrow

What can I say
to turn your face to flint
and subsequently flee?
"I really like you; have a meal with me?"

WOMEN

In the hall with a booming voice,
goin' on about the right of choice.
Who to raise my child?
The driving force of the local malls.
Hangin' things on the bathroom walls.
Who to change my moods?
Flip-flops and hair in a bun.
Gettin' better grades than my son.
Who to drive me wild
The backyard with a romance book.
Break me up with a secret look.
with that female attitude?

Who to raise my child?
Who to change my mood?
Who to drive me wild
with that female attitude?

Lay my body on the bed. . .women
Play back the tape in my head. . .women
Just about every tear I shed. . .women
Cut me off in the southbound lane. . .women
When I hear the guys complain. . .women
At the portals of pleasure and pain. . .women
Pawing over every word I said. . .women
The cornerstone of network TV. . .women
The Democratic presidential nominee. . .women
Struttin' out of the waves of sea. . .women

Make way for the women.

TINY HAND (for Melanie Quinn)

In a tiny hand

I carry His word,

painting the picture

for those who've not heard.

With a tiny foot

I follow His will,

reaching out

to the tinier still.

This tiny soul

will fly away far,

where kin can't arrive

driving by car.

This tiny courage

might tremble and sweat

when trouble sways it

to a path of regret.

But I never knew

what a tiny hand

could do,

when the love of the Lord

was passing through.

When this tiny hand

was forming a fist,

the Prince of peace

had each finger kissed.

This tiny heart

was humbled to shame

when a Hand far greater

took all its blame.

The world had not a clue

what a tiny hand

could do

when the Spirit holy

made it new.

If this tiny hand

could hold onto yours

we could lay down

our pistols, divisions, and wars.

WAKE UP DEAD MAN

Jesus, Jesus help me;
I'm all alone in this world
and a fucked up world it is too.
Tell me, tell me the story
the one about eternity
and the way it's all gonna be.
WAKE UP, WAKE UP DEAD MAN!
WAKE UP, WAKE UP DEAD MAN.

Jesus, I'm waiting here Boss;
I know You're looking out for us
but maybe Your hands aren't free.
Your Father, He made the world in seven;
He's in charge of heaven.
Will You put a word in for me?
WAKE UP, WAKE UP DEAD MAN!
WAKE UP, WAKE UP DEAD MAN. . .

- U2

"I Turn Home"

When the blazing sun hangs low in the western sky

When the wind dies away on the mountain

When the song of the meadowlark turns still

When the free locust clicks no more in the field

and the sea-foam sleeps like a maiden at rest

and twilight touches the shape of the wandering Earth

I turn home

Through blue shadows and purple woods

I turn home

I turn to the place where I was born

to the mother who bore me and the father who taught me

long ago

long ago

Alone am I now

lost in a far wide wandering world

Still when the sun hangs low

and the wind dies away

and the sea-foam sleeps

and twilight touches the wandering Earth

I turn home

(taken from SPARTACUS)

You Will Live

You will live,
commonly cornered man of youth,
high of mind and short of tooth,
on this quiet quest for truth;
you will live.

You will rise,
though the heart be flung to wind,
though your righteousness has sinned,
while worlds away from next of kin;
you will rise.

You will live,
with head swallowed by a flood,
in melancholy flesh and blood.
Raise your members from the mud
and live.
You will live.

Un-Churched

I sent you to church, my wide-eyed son;
what did you find, my darling young one?

I found a girl weeping pain to an altar
I found a man with eyes on the time
I found a crowd singing in chorus
I found ten grown women whose ears were burning
and they say Christ will come

I sent you to church, my wide-eyed son;
what did you find, my darling young one?

I found a great book but nobody read it
I found a man-child play chords on guitar
I found the word "sin" but nobody said it
I found a few people who never stopped kneeling
and they say Christ will come

I sent you to church, my wide-eyed son;
what did you find, my darling young one?

I found high-dollar suits and low-dollar offerings
I found Lonely and Bitter and Joyful and Patient
I found straight-talk dying and small-talk living
I found rows of souls with skin of many colors
and they say Christ will come

I sent you to church, my wide-eyed son;
what did you find my darling young one?

I found real good Earth but Heaven is better
I found Tradition is king and God his servant
I found preaching like thunder and healing like lightning
I found a murmur of love to the roar of the world
and they say Christ will come

(a reworking of Bob Dylan's "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall")

LIMITED MAN ON A DATE OR AT THE SUPERMARKET, Part 4

Are you good for me?
Or too sweet,
too spicy,
too sour,
too rich,
or just the flavor to enhance my days?
A healthy part of a nutritious lifestyle
or a heartbreaking combo meal with "super-sized" regrets included?
Will you do my body right?
Will you reduce the risk of acid reflux?
Are you good for me - a "lovin' spoonful"
or drudgery in every morsel?

Breathe A Thankful Breath

It wasn't the worst time, child,
'cause you lived through it.
It was a whirlwind, child,
'cause you're still dizzy.
It was a heartbreak, child,
but you can be mended.

I don't know what went wrong;
I don't know what the demons said.
But they had a pity-party
in the hollow of your head.

It isn't the bitter end, child,
'cause the world's not stopping.
Breathe a thankful breath
as the tears are dropping.
You aren't a lost cause, child,
'cause you're worth winning.
Remember Who made you, child,
in the beginning.
It isn't the last straw, child,
'cause you have choices.
Breathe a thankful breath
to drown out the voices.

ROCKY GROUND

To the Savior of many
and Lord of few:
what to do?
What to do?
The landfill has no vacancy;
the closet overflows.
Repentance wanes,
yet sin grows.
What to do?

To the Savior of many
and Lord of few:
what to do?
What to do?
The Word needs deciphering,
our reason cries.
Truth is obscured
while theory multiplies.
What to do?

To the Savior of many
and Lord of few:
what to do?
What to do?
Fearing Your throne-room,
where grace awaits;
Satan gives chase
as my breath abates.
What to do?

LIMITED MAN, Part 3

Am I evolving?
Have I leapt from my illusions?
Have I made God or is God yet making me?
I so want this heart to be open;
I so wish the smokescreens to recede;
I so want the Lord to be pleased.
Here is the finite man trailing the Infinite prints -
haunted but hopeful,
hungry but hurting,
selfish but seeking.
Still, am I evolving?

Forward through Love

Forward
through the dark.
Vocal fist of Love.
Love needs expression

Forward.
Make the light,
make the ground,
water for the other.
Forward.
Hang the first moon.
Forward.
Breathe
Breathe
Live
Live
Walk
Walk
Talk
Talk
Forward
through the day.
Earthen form of Love.
Love needs expression

Fast forward.
Fix the star.
Send the kings.
Push
Push
Breathe
Breathe
Baby
Baby
Live
Live
Forward
through the ages.
Newborn cry of Love.
Love needs expression.

Fast forward.
Me here.
You now.
Through the war,
through the rain,
through the culture,
through the hearts broken
through the wisdom,
through the awkward phase,
through the latter days
are the promises of Love.
Love needs expression.

LIKE JACOB BEFORE

You have called
to inner cities:
the storefronts
and the tenement stairs - into the heart.
Your voice broke
the talk-show banter
and bedroom walls - into the inmost.
And it seems, You want a piece of me.

You have called
to the suburbs:
the cul-de-sacs
and night porch chats - into the heart.
Your hand pierced
the days of doldrum
and the ESPN - into the inmost.
And it seems, You want a piece of me.

I navigate abandoned ground
with a bad hip
and a new name;
dragged-out
and taken-down
but I've got a piece of You.

We have tussled
'til the morning,
the mortal man
and Holy Ghost - over the heart.
Your will fought
my agenda
and assorted dirty jokes - over the inmost.
And it seems, You've won a piece of me.
Blessings are not always free.

LIMITED MAN, Part 2

I spend the time praying my balance will not be lost,
that the Hand I hold will not fade,
that the tightrope betwixt the extremes will not vanish under foot,
that my reason will dovetail with His mind.
O, the stormy waters preceding the holy pastures of green -
His face ahead and the gathering, bewildering world breathing just behind.

Brothers and Nations

Jacob loved
Esau hated
the thief embraced
the fool berated
the nations float on competition
so many sink in malnutrition
for Jacob's loved
and Esau's hated
the quick embraced
the dying berated

Limited Man, Part 1

I pray every day that my life will matter,
my eyes cry it,
my flesh breathes it.
My morning dawns;
my evening darkens
with this prayer:
will I be a drop in the flood,
a print in the mud,
a distant thud,
a never-blooming bud
or will I matter?

California's October (nature never tames)

embers without conscience
citizens without sleep
neighbors without neighborhoods
fire by day
fire by night

Having only what matters
yet heartache comes
smoldering ash and tatters
not enough tears for what the flames have done
hard-hats, hoses, and cots
the trappings of rescue
in the shadow of disaster
but not enough tears for flames
too many faces and names
nature never tames

fire by night
fire by day
neighbors without neighborhoods
citizens without sleep
embers, embers, and embers

THE BULL'S BUM-RUSH (for Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle)

Look at the hat
Look at the "grill"
Look at the gun in hand
Look at the blitz through the borough
like a battering ram

Look at the hoods
Look at the cash
Look at the smug empire
Look at the "horse" running free
like a street wildfire

Look at the cat
Look at the mouse
Look at the bull's bum-rush
Look at the chances taken just
to make the bust

Look at the hat
Look at the grill
Look at the bull's bum-rush
Look Look Look

(based on The French Connection I and II)

A MAN CHANGED (for Jay Billington Bulworth)

In the hustling life
there's time for no convictions.
You could sharpen a knife
on the tongues of the competition.
Truth grows dim
in the eyes of a politician.
Down I went
to the pools of self-service,
but a figure emerged
and made my handlers nervous.

A man deranged?
A man changed?
A man from his own world estranged.

In the inspired life
people want convictions,
not a gun or knife
or dirt on your competition.
Truth flows free
from the mouth of this politician.
Down I went
to the pools of self-pity,
but a figure emerged
with rhymes bold and witty.

(based on Bulworth)

ALL MY BUGS (for Harry Caul)

Your whispers are mine,
loud and clear.
Your every emotion
I can hear
Your whispers are mine;
I'm not ashamed.
No secrets safe
in my game.
I've many ears
to many walls.
Your words belong
to Harry Caul.

My quiet destroyer
is my paranoia,
looming over,
tapping my shoulder,
lurking in dark
in every park,
plotting my doom
in every room,
feeling it creep
when I try to sleep,
taunted and haunted
by all of my sins,
taunted and haunted
by all of my bugs

Your whispers are mine,
loud and clear.
Your every emotion
I can hear.
Your whispers are mine;
I'm not ashamed.
No secrets safe
in my game.
Too many ears;
too many walls.
The soul on the line
is Harry Caul's.

(based on The Conversation)

2 MONKEYS (for James Cole)

Steady my mind.
Hear my voice.
Reaching out,
I make my choice.
no braver girl could win my heart -
every burdened, bewildered part.

If she knew
from whence I came,
would her feeling be the same?
Where children died,
and women cried,
and men went mad
on every side.
Where the present's pain
is blamed on the
past's pride.

Touch my hand.
Hear my voice.
No one else
dispute my choice.
No stranger man could win my heart -
every beleagured, befuddled part.

If he knew
how I got this name
would his feelings be the same?
The harried world
of this harried girl,
to live and die
with credentials unfurled.
Where my diamonds
are trumped by
a colleague's pearls.

(based on 12 Monkeys)

A KEEN WAY (for Vincent)

A keen way with gunplay
in L.A.'s night
unrelenting, unrepentant
a Teflon terror
in fight or in flight

A keen way with moral decay
in L.A.'s blight
unloved, unravelling
no clarity of mind
for the wrong or right

A keen predator of his prey
in L.A.'s night
unsuspecting, unprepared
the wolf gets reckoning
and falls at first light

(based on Collateral)

A WORD FROM THE WOODS (for Nell)

Butterfly not learned beautiful
Butterfly not learned free
Racoon go creepin' n' a-crawlin'
and make no nevermind 'bout no civilizashun

Nell know sorrow
Nell know joy
Nell know love,
and the da day good or bad
She beautiful
but got her ugly
She free
but got her strugglin'

Nell be ya neighbor,
not ya 'periment
"You 'member that"

(based on Nell)

REAL GOOD (for Sister Helen Prejean)

Our sister is good
through bars and barriers
and bold unbelievers
Good
in the faces of fools
Good
amid fleshly fears
and foreboding buildings
Good
when evil comes to court
Good
when dead men walk
and life leaks away
down the drain of man's justice
Our sister is good
in a human way
Good
as God's own daughter
living in the land of shepherdless sheep

(based on Dead Man Walking)

A TIME FOR FIRE (for Van Zandt)

Fire
in my sky
Swooping
Blazing
Close enough to taste my people
Blotting my sky

Fire
in my eye
Crackling
Blazing
Deep enough to spark my people
Rescuing my sky

Fire
"Bring down
the beast"
blotting my sky
scorching my earth

Fire
resurrect my roses
light my lamps
cheer my children
rescue my sky

(based on Reign of Fire)

Where the Streets have No Name

I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside
I want to reach out
and touch the flame
Where the streets have no name
I want to feel
sunlight on my face
I see that dust cloud disappear without a trace
I want to take shelter
from the poisoned rain
Where the streets have no name

Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
we're still building then burning down love
burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do

The city's aflood
and our love turns to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind, trampled in dust
I'll show you a city
high on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name

Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building then burning down love
burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do

- U2

BENEATH THE SURFACE (for Marko Ramius)

"A war at sea"
and deep within me.
Heavy is the heart
of the refugee.

A heep with a hull
as dark as its purpose.
Its power unparalleled
Its presence unknown
Its enemies unaware
Its crew undaunted
Its captain uneasy

Heavy is the heart
of this refugee,
racing to set
his conscience free.

(based on The Hunt for Red October)

NO MAN'S NIGGER (for Tripp)

The swamp called out
"You ain't no man's nigger;
ain't no one better; ain't nobody bigger".

The North called out
"Ain't no men braver;
ain't no war better; ain't no time graver".

Soldier means gun
Gun means strength
Strength means respect
Respect means man
Man means free

Lincoln called out
"Make your mark, volunteer;
ain't no more runnin'; ain't no more fear".

(based on Glory)

BARTLEBY R.I.P (for Bartleby and Loki)

Here lays the angel fallen
the bitterness burned
the reason ruined
the love lost

When twilight touches the day
and Heaven seems afar
when rage grows hot in hand
and forgiveness forgotten
when we are emptied into exile
and crown tarnished
remember then our brother - beautiful and bold,
manipulated and mad

Here lays the angel fallen
the bitterness burned
the reason ruined
the love lost
the child of God

(based on Dogma)

Death on the Ground

I meet you in the darkness.
We curl-up in my head.
I spill my human lust,
then you leave me for dead.
On the mattress
of the midnight
in my head

I reach around for cover,
but never the light.
Any shame-concealer
to keep me out of sight.
On the mattress
of the midnight
out of sight.

Falling in fantasy
to death on the ground

I can feel the dawning,
and go down to a knee.
Just another 5 AM
mumbled guilty plea.
But the mattress
of the midnight
conquered me.

Falling in fantasy
to death on the ground

Hear the poet singing
"can He excuse my wrongs";
don't know about redemption!
Don't know no other songs?
Still the mattress
of the midnight
all day long.

Falling in fantasy
to death on the ground

CONSTANTINE'S MIRROR (for John Constantine)

Demons in my ears
Angels in my eyes
Reach, I, through each disguise
Mine is the hand reprimand
to outlaw "half-breeds" in the land

Perdition has thirst
Heaven has grace
My sweat and guile wander bewixt them,
darkening this heart
as souls call at the door:
the ravaged, the charmed,
the blessed, the harmed,
the disillusioned, the disarmed.
And I, their regulator - their verifier
against Satan's teeth
confirming God's touch

With all the eternal
passing my face,
the origin and ending
of a human's race

(based on Constantine)

EUGENE (from the attic)

Sometimes,
when I get a break,
I think about the steps I take;
the misconceptions that others make
regarding me.

Somewhere
just below six feet,
melancholy but often sweet.
A quick-wit with most I meet
every day.
Always something to say every day.

Now I'm locked in this room.
Will Time make this my tomb?

Sometimes,
when I'm up late,
the mirror shows a face I hate
with no beauty to compensate
surrounding me.
Always some shadow surrounding me.

Now I'm locked in this mind.
Will Time ever be kind?

The Demon's Lament

You afflict them
but they will not crush.
You perplex them
but they do not despair.
You twist them
but they do not budge
You tempt them
but they do not turn.

They stumble they fall.
Then they stand tall...and follow.
They follow.

The night falls;
and the sin calls;
and the moon glows;
and the wind blows;
and the prayers rise;
and Satan sighs.

You torment them
but they do not divide.
You strike them
but they are not destroyed.

They stagger; they fall.
They sometimes crawl...but follow.
They follow.

He's a Mystery to Me

He's a mystery to me.
With breath to split the sea.
He walks outside of Time,
makes the Law to curse the crime.
He renders my rescue daily.
But He's a mystery to me.

He's a mystery to me.
The loved One I never see.
The thief in the dark of nights,
and the Father of the lights.
The model of justice and mercy.
But He's a mystery to me.

He's a mystery to me,
with words to still the sea.
The One to bare my weight
through the drooling mouth of hate.
He calls me "friend", not "enemy",
but He's a mystery to me.

Not a Loser (for Fast Eddie)

Crashing.
Face first.
Headlong and headstrong.
Full of will, and dreams that cannot be still.
Crashing.
Face first - brains last.

Beautiful failure,
try again.
Feel the thrill of dreams that cannot be still.
Be the most blessed,
the smashing success.
Leaping.
Face first.
Headlong and headstrong.

Crashing, smashing
or leaping and dashing.
Carry our hope.
Carry our hope in you.

(based on The Hustler)

The Restless Pen

Eyes turned inward
the world in shadow
images melding
mind alight
the pen will toss
the pen must turn
restless
restless in the dark

Paper
wake up, Paper
Poet
wake up, Poet

...but I being poor have only my dreams. I lay them at your feet.
Walk softly, for you walk upon my dreams.

- W.B. Yeats

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