Like an Addict.

Like an addict I run to the quick fix,

{THE QUICK FIX}

No matter the risk,

The gin and tonic mix,

I’m lovin it like Mickey D’s

And lovin me when im U…T…I…V… 

that’s Under The Influence – Vanity

An affluence of liberty,

That’s riding the fence,

That’s crawling the vents

between a eunuch and a whore,

Sparing little and slamming the door

On moderation and veneration of what is beneficial,

Not right…not wrong…but GOOD. 

I want to believe there is honor in honesty. 

I want to believe there is honesty in honor. 

I want to believe so many things.

The things I know are true,

But even “Old Scratch” knows the truth

So whats the use

When the abuse of good

can ruin like sharp vermouth?

In dry hands,

Hands that search,

That never stop

That only find

The sad reminder

That reaching the top

Is only for men,

Republicans,

Upper middle class,

Elitists,

Standing on the shoulders of giants;

The puppet masters

Of unborn bastards,

Wielding the strings of media

Writing the pop culture encyclopedia,

Mediating between God and man

The desert is not the sand,

Creating an idol;

The vital part of a tidal wave,

Polluting future history,

Pregnant with the mystery

Of future books

And future looks

And future standards,

Replacing the banner of truth,

With the graffiti of youth,

Welcoming a time

When fear is currency

And ignorance its rhyme.

 

…Welcome home…

Exposed

A few weeks ago and friend and I went on a hike.  A “hike” sounds miles manlier than a “nature walk” which may be a more accurate description.  It was twenty miles total.  Ten miles to and from the “primitive” camp site.  I got a kick out of that name and was half expecting cavemen to inhabit our neighboring campsites.  We set off at about 3 in the afternoon after a friendly chat with the ranger, an older and mildly forgetful lady; a real sweetheart with what seemed a genuine love for the outdoors.  After getting lost several times we still had not arrived at our campsite and the sun was beginning to set.  The afternoon entered that dusk hour when the world blurs into a faded, wispy dream world.  Its like watching a black and white television.  The bright greens and golden yellows faded into translucent browns and frail grays and the forest starts to seem sleepy.  We started to feel urgency gently tugging at our shirt tails, which still smelled of insect repellent, knowing that it would be near impossible for us to find our primitive motel after dark.  It was the first time in recent memory that darkness had actually affected me.

When do we in America ever experience darkness?  We live in the light all day and when the sun goes down we retire inside, houses, bars, restaurants, coffee shops, and never really experience the darkness until we flick the light off immediately before lying down in bed for the night, welcoming it with eyes shut tight.  Yea, technology…electricity…It’s great…I get it.  But we must miss out on something, don’t you think?  How much more do these Bible stories about darkness resonate with people who actually experience darkness?  People whose lives ended when the sun went down; people who could not work, who could not travel, who could do nothing but sleep in the darkness and await the morning light.  In Exodus, Moses stretched out his hand and God sent a “thick darkness in all the land of Egypt for three days.”  This would not really be that big of a deal for us would it?  Three days of night.  Ok, I can deal with that.  Just leave the lights on during the day…most of the time they are on anyway.  The only difference might be having your headlights on when your driving to work in the morning.  Big deal.  Darkness shut Egypt down. 

We slept in a two man tent, which in my opinion was a one man tent.  As we spooned, I as big dipper and Nick as little dipper (we are both very comfortable in our heterosexuality), I was kept awake by the sound of animals all around us.  The crackling of branches, pine needles, and palm frawns was evidence of the business of nocturnal nature.  She breathed loud and yet hidden by the darkness.  We awaited the morning, covered in sweat and the sound of invisible kamikaze mosquitoes.

Nature’s morning breath is golden sweet.

“He reveals mysteries from the darkness and brings the deep darkness into light (Job 12:22).  Incredible…In the darkness, it is hidden.  Light is not the exposure of darkness, but of those things hidden by the darkness.  Paul says we are “children of the light” formerly in darkness.  Then a few verses later reveals that being a child of the light means not participating unfruitful deeds of darkness and instead, exposing them.  “But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that becomes visible is light.”  (Eph. 5:13)

More than just a cosmic battle between good and evil, the Bible’s reference to light and darkness is about privacy versus transparency, secrecy versus honesty, resistance versus vulnerability.  To be a child of the light is to be exposed by that light.  When a plant is kept in the darkness it shrivels and dies.  When it is exposed to sunlight it flourishes and grows.  I have been shriveled by the darkness of privacy for most of my 23 years.  I feel like I am starting to flourish.  I have a long way to grow.  I am now not convinced that privacy plays any role in the Christian life.  And it does not seem to be a coincidence that these versus all lead up to the infamous Ephesians 5 marriage landmark.  This is where I am at.  I am at verse 8, hoping to get to verse 25.

Exposed

 

Lovers of Old

Ill pay my respects to oldest of lovers,

And the smell of your breath under the covers.

A dormant love, like a salty wound,

Brings joy through pain, like the rising moon.

The hope of a day, yet unseen.

To the promises made in between.

Cheers to love, like a storm without rain,

Which Is incomplete, void of pain.

And Courage, like death without a tear,

Is incomplete void of fear.

Devotion, like an addict without vice,

Is incomplete without Sacrifice.

Life, like lungs without breath,

Is incomplete outside of death

So we will pay our dues to the lovers of old,

Since we’re too steadfast to fit the mold.

On Nature’s Justice

The Shore and Sea Collide,

Breaking motion’s wild tide.

The waves entrance the lover’s fold,

And draw spirit, mind, and soul.

From within her icy, stinging teeth,

Comes the soul of justice, far beneath.

She breaks and cries and rises up,

drinking full of mercy’s cup.

If only my eyes could see,

The maker of nature’s constancy.

fear

Im scared to know how my heart lied
When I am hung and crucified,

Im scared to see how life would be
Without these addictions to comfort me,

Im scared to know what my heart would show
Without this darkness to cover me,

Im scared to see what stains remain
When I am clean with no refrain,

Im scared to know what I will see
When you take these scales away from me,

Im scared to see the cripple I would be
If you took these crutches away from me,

Im scared to see the lusts that would leave
If you just showed your face to me,

Im scared to know what it would cost
To abandon myself to carry my cross,

Im scared to know what I will see
When you grant me holy clarity,

Im scared to feel the earth shake
As knees drop for your names sake,

Im scared to know my speechless shame
As tongues confess and fear your name,

Im scared to see your face and tears
When you reveal my secret fears,

Im scared to death to see your face
And feel the pain of your embrace,

I am scared of loss and fallen fears
For they mark the comfort of all my years.

Lost

They torture my mind.

These thoughts,

These Inklings of hope defined.

Will this love remain?

And still…

The unsatisfied refrain.

Found

Who can find,

Within this mind,

Thoughts like grains of sand,

That beg without demand?

That hold this confession fast,

And mute expressions past?

Mouths will always lie,

For words supply

The foundations

Both of Jokes and Justice.

Twilight

I met him last night;

My Father’s son.

And in the Darkness,

The fight was won. 

From His black eyes,

                  A tear.

Under the Twilight…

There’s no romance in Fear.

The American Nightmare

They see a cubicle. 

With padded carpet walls.

A moat surrounding a desk

With pens, pencils, and penny jars,

Piles of papers calling out to you…

 

“I will make you money…”

“I will make you happy…”

“I will make you, ‘you’…”

 

You know what I see? 

I see prison bars.

Walls of social acceptance and expectations

filled by the comfort of the American way…

The American dream…

 

I had an American dream once: 

I dreamt I was locked inside those padded walls,

Straight jacket laced tight,

With just two fingers free to type.

The life fell out of my veins,

which filled with ink.

Uh Oh…

Here he comes:

My boss,

squinty, coke bottled eyes, beading and holding the reigns…

 

We ride my 401k

Down the fast lane

Of Capital way. 

 

Through endless suburbs,

The smell of pot roast and fresh paint:

White picket prison bars,

Holding hostage a mini-van,

A tire tied tightly to a tree branch,

Cutting off the flow of nature’s circulation.

The grass smells of insecticides,

Stripped of spaces, open wide.

Swallow it whole. 

 

Because this is nature, boys:

Green grass, cut and groomed like the neatly combed hair on the school boy’s head,

Sitting atop collar covered shoulders,

Strapped to the leash of ringing bells,

Which release him from cell to cell to cell.

 

(This is where they brainwash the young ones) 

 

Go to class,

Go to college,

Go to work,

Go to the corporate ladder…

 

Climb!

Climb!

Climb!

 

Go to the church.

Go to the suburbs

Go to retirement

Go to the “Promised land…”

           

            …Boca Raton…         

 

Go to the Golf Course.

Go to the Grave. 

 

…alone…

 

That’s nice…

  A map

    A schedule. 

      An itinerary…

         A blue print…

            An American dream…

               A beauty, isn’t it?

 

I awoke from my dream,  

To a man choking me,

 

He watched as I died.

Then swallowed and sighed.

 

Calm, all the while…

With an wink, and a smile

 

Go to the Gallows…

 

Adorn

Adorn me as a virgin.

Dress me as a bride.

Hold me fast,

And let me rest

Against The gentle slope of pride.

 

Cut me down;

As son and slave,

Your words the knife.

Your mouth the grave.

 

Though broken hearts

may love the same,

Their empty tomb…

Which is their shame.

 

Glean my heart,

As vineyard’s vine,

And Feed my soul

With flesh and wine.