The Twenty-Five Hour Yesterday

**(See the note at the bottom of poem please)

I deferred entropy yesterday,
with jaundiced yellow summer thoughts
that lingered in mid-air above
my head…then rose on winds…

Seraphim speaking at heavens brass
and brazen, silent skies yet become
broken by my desperate thoughts
and yet to become wild throat-shatt’ring cries!tumblr_ns8f87gHlH1qllucco4_1280I was silent with them until they
were just not silent with me!  Nay!
They called out to Isaiah, Ancient
Mariner sailing seas of grief
and beauty in the winds of time
and loss…

“O that You would tear open the heavens
and come down, that the mountains
would quake at Your presence!”

And then time halted, entropy
deferred to my voice ignited in
screams for the speechless
in songs for the weary
in shrieks for the despairing

WHEN Will You SHATTER Brass?
Tear OPEN Silent Faded Blue Skies
and harsh LACK OF MERCY!!tumblr_nj8axqwRES1rx3qvso1_500

slavery still happening
right here in River City

sex-trafficking thriving
looking up in Kansas City

poverty and addiction
meet me in St Louis

racism and genocide
above the fruited plains

all ignored while we obsess
over Facebook Fights and Twitter twatfests,
both garbage and cheap gossip dished,
in equal measure slung and sung
to show tunes and to shanties and
to soft-shoe shuffles
on Broadway!

How long, O Lord!
When will our
Purple Mountains
quake in Your Majesty?

And yet how shall I voice my cry
so bloody and alone? With deeds
just like some pile o crap, some smelly
filthy rag? With prideful blood-hoard
boasting buried in a pirate’s chest
so goddam deep?tumblr_nmykoqcspH1qz9bu3o1_1280And my heart faded like a leaf
and blew away like dried up failure
in the scheming eyeless winds…

And my vain colors oh so bright
and oh so pretty, my heart faded
in the face of all

the unjust things we do,
the things we are,
our inconsistencies and
our postmodern so ironic
ways so petty and deliberate,
so destructive and so cruel!tumblr_n0caivXHen1to3s33o1_1280We stand before God today
even though entropy deferred yesterday
we stand before God as Their Potter’s clay

the urgency of the present moment,
shaped not by nostalgia for what once was,
but remembrance for who God was,
and is, and ever will be.

that fierce urgency of the now
within a world in need
not of more pointing fingers
and dividing speeches, but of
people willing to rise up
and work as if we now already
are God’s people willing
and surrendered.

 I deferred entropy yesterday

It was the least I could do.

**Note to the reader:  italicized words are meant to be heard in your mind to the show-tune they are from…
Google is an ally if you don’t know your show tunes, as is You-Tube.
If this were read aloud, the reader would sing those phrases,
voice dripping sarcasm and anger.

Oh…and if you don’t like it?

Defer Entropy

The One Who Knows

When we touch
The One Who Knows
we touch our own
pearlescent core
transparent and so brilliant.tumblr_ns0lfqW1Bd1t224ibo1_500We find That One Deep
in Elysian Fields of frolic,
upon the face of mountains,
and in the deep bone deserts,
we find The One Who Knows
in our fires of becoming.tumblr_ns7kdpZXJF1sicac5o4_1280It is the Valley of Dry Bones,
the charnal parched and bony strand
with bone-dust laying down for sand
that walking comes The One Who Knows
and singing re-creation songs
and the truths we tell make harmonies
to reach the very stars.11703225_10153476958486972_1918529818571726955_oThe One Who Knows is in the eyes
of dying children, hateful men
and weary women burdened, stripped
of womb and wonder, chained and whipped…

The One Who Knows is lurking deep
inside the secrets that we keep
and clings to every prideful steep
to conquer every peak and peek.MamaIn our insistent blood They Speak,
in our starved souls, in raven’s beak,
in padded paws and jungle roar
The One Who Knows waits on Their Shore


showing the dead how to live backwards
into forever and before the day.Image 001

My Sisters N Me

We stand at the shore in confidence.

Our feet rest on sands
but we walk on the waves
while everyone else thinks
that we are still slaves
of the old ways and means
of the city of dirt.

They have looked in my eyes
and seen me hopeful there,
and they called me out
singing that I walk on air
with them, light and free
even while being immovable
We are the fruitful vines
planted for new wine.

They hear my voice
and they touch my quick heart
and they lend me their beauty
and they stand apart from the
dull and the lumbering fools full of words
that just club and just crush…
they are for me and with me
and full of Kind Art.

We stand on shores, we wait for it,
the coming of justice and mercy
the liberty song

My sisters and me…

My sisters and me