If I hold the truth in my hand,
dare I eat it like the eucharist
placed on the tongue of a simple sinner,
or savor it like a mouthful of bourbon
before it burns the words wholly?
(August 7, 2026)
Category: offering
-
“Oh, God said to Abraham, ‘Kill me a son.’
—Bob Dylan
I want to write
something other
than this poem;
this trifle;
this moment,
but this is all
I have to give
after another
eventless day.
Another day
which was enough
for what I had
to accomplish,
as this poem
is enough for
it is all
that I have
left to offer.
(April 20, 2026)
-
we pour this wine for the earth
that gives us a place to stand
we pour this wine for the airthat gives us breath to speak
we pour this wine for waterwhich gives us life on the planet
we pour this wine for the firewhich purifies our failings
we pour this wine for the etherwhich connects us to the world
we pour this wine as an offeringthat we may survive the dark
that the madness will spare us
and we will return to the light
(February 25, 2025)
-
two nights in a row
the cat drops a rabbit
dead on the back mat
her throat ripped openbits of fur float in the wind
her body still warm
the cat proudly purrsas she curls around my feet
I did this for you
I push her awayunceremoniously
dismissing her kill
each moment deserves our trusteach moment’s a sacrifice
(November 11, 2023)
-
within a multitude of soft tongues
a flame whispers accusations
around the kindling at your feet
and with a puff from her lips
it flourishes like angelic trumpets
curling toward a blackening sky
then soon enough
the fire fades
to a boredom
akin to sadness
it’s not there
in its absence
as sadness pervades
each need
with lackadaisical ease
(April 5, 2021)
-
I made her breakfast:
cheese, bread, and a sliced red pear–
what love can offer.
(October 6, 2019)
-
No one is alone:
the pale, pale moon of morning
offered to us all.
(August 16, 2020)
-
first bits
then fragments
fall away
like branches
on fire
crack off
until
wholly ash
which wind then
wisps to air
adrift
incorporeal
a spirit singing
in each breath
(August 9, 2018)
-
apologies to u-t-l
silence surrounds,
it spins, it grows.
beings sprout
in silence.
the secret’s
hope;
listen:
a snowflake
kisses leaf’s tip
at forest center.
(December 26, 2017)
-
“Above all, don’t lie to yourself.”
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov I can lie to myself easily enough,
With small shifts in the story to adjust
The present view, to accommodate
a new façade on the old denouement.
Although, it is less work to accept
The dominant narrative; the mundane
Given, leading toward an obvious proof;
Someone else’s truth not your own.
I am so tired, and there are so many
Steps to manage the smallest crisis:
What to buy for dinner? Should I change
Lanes now, or wait a mile or two.
I simply rearrange the bread crumbs
I’ve dropped for you along the way.
(December 20, 2017)
-
where you are mattersless and less over timeif one attends closelyto the unfolding roseI hold out a handopen unassuminga gesture as simpleas the words I writewe read too muchinto momentary phrasesveiling our complexitiesfrom joy’s simplicitytruth lives within youopen your heart to me(April 5, 2015) -
I have nothingwithin my handsnothing to offerbeyond my trustthat I amwho I claimthat what I holdwithin memy heartmy lovefor youwill be enoughthat what I saywill findits truer echowithin youthat you will hearthis secret songthen take my handsfor what they areand hold them closewithin yourssafe from allthe calloused troublesoutside ourselves(February 28, 2015)
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