RSSArchive for December, 2016

Dec

25

One Little Nail

One Little Nail One little nail posted into the huge oak door, Wittenberg Cathedral, the eve of All Saints’ Day, like a little snail it worms its way through thick wood, winds up on the pope’s desk; then finds itself on the other end of an Edict of Worms, death sentence for Luther, the nailer, […]

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Dec

21

satan wants you dead !

satan wants you dead! So, go ahead, I know you heard me, I said satan wants you dead, then he has you forever. Yes, forever dead, to live in darkest night before he should lose you. You take this plunge, you’ll see how wet you’ll get. Before He makes His presence known, you turn and […]

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Dec

18

Jesus in Nazareth

Jesus in Nazareth Luke 4: 16-32 Rumored in the region by common men to regain the glory of old Israel, and drive the Roman scourge from their home, this was land that had been promised by God from Father Abraham, His fame spread like sand in a storm. In Nazareth the name of Jesus was […]

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Dec

14

In a Circus

In a Circus Philippians 4: 13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. In a dream, a dream circus, you hear screams. Down steep wet concrete steps to damp basement floor, gas line pipe for a rail, down to wings that will never fly, seems barely room to change, grinding garish organ […]

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Dec

11

Collision

Collision Dank descent into broken seams cimmerian, sere into slush sleep of prenatal dreams sink, through black water moving whist, whist water moving black. Through gauntlet depths sadnesses like flowers that wilt in desert cave from taint of rain, dead flowers like flavors in black silt grow accustomed to this constant acanthus hairball in my […]

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Dec

7

On or About Sunday Morning

On or about Sunday Morning to you, Wallace Stevens You told us of a jar in Tennessee upon a hill. A jar that grows no wilderness, must be in a hole upon a hill. Must be it’s Scope’s jar that sits there on this hill In which are bits of life, some cells, Darwin’s creatures […]

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Dec

4

Winter Night

Winter Night The wind creaks the maple out in front of his home like the old man’s bones shuffling, knees and hips bowing, supporting him barely across shiny tiled floor, loose silk robe hanging like snow that is blowing fine powder across his yard, almost spraying a carpet rolled flowing on its edges and thick. […]

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