poetry

Who can blame the rain’s refreshment or the heat of the rising sun? For the flowers bloom and beauty comes— Who can blame the dance’s disruption or the loss of tip-toe

I drove by the house where I used to live and looked at the red door my mother painted, bleeding through the blistered, peeling white the new people used. I stopped the car

Years ago, when Earth was young, Warm was the air and bright the sun, White Unicorns stood as guardians Of the world’s bright thoughts and dreams. With them lived a man named

The earth trembled. The sky blackened. “Defeat,” demons whispered. He— The Son of God, The Light of Man— Gone out. Satan’s laughter Echoes under Jerusalem’s streets. God’s wrath rumbles in

Dedicated to Deandre Gladden We lost him on a southern spring day. The birdsong ringing melodies in our ears, sunjoy rays accompanied by new air, flowers opened and shouted, “I’m here!” But

Silly moon. Did you think that you could fool Those of us that know the sun? Your path across its countenance Lasts only for a moment. Silly moon. Your feeble efforts can’t

What hell can you wreck upon lone me? My King and Queen have retreated, And I am my own worst enemy. Fiery stakes consume the clergy Who told me forgiveness was dead. What

I started it one golden day When I dropped the match on the bridge. Picked it up—too late— As wildfire spread through the cables. My heart watered an apology, Cooling cherry-stained metal

Each day I fight because I am alive. You cannot fight, if dead—you cannot see the gleaming beetle’s silky wings display the quiet beauty of each transparent cell, crafted like the

In the silence of a gallery where colors dance and gleam, where each stroke has meaning, where reality clashes with a dream, I see emotions displayed in frames much like my own. I

We bear bundles of joy and suffer As you count our flesh and bone as worthless, Muffling our wailing ’cause it’s a bother. With hearts of sponge we soak up your stress,

Listen. Hose, hats, heels click along cement sidewalks–– The city echoes with the punctuated remark. Or is that the harmony of guns cocked in war? Germany desires to settle its score. Keys clack

God said He sees the Sparrow fall— And cares for us as well— But why would He let the Sparrow fall If He cared that the Sparrow fell? If God really saw the

You know, sister, these rooms are all haunted, Big Brother slyly said to me one day. Yes, silly, of course the ghost is dead! But he still wanders this place anyway. At night,

I’ve heard about weeds that spring up where the dirt is disturbed, so watch out, just in case. Last year, they tore out my favorite tree, churning and scarring the ground with

Heart beating fast Life flashing past Road leeching last Just breathe Uproot my roots like some old elm tree Looking for somewhere new to cast my boundary Pulling through and pushing past the

Stepping on glass—shards Scattered across—a minefield Underfoot—Times Square— Wasps nest in—your ears As muskets—and cannons boom— Fire alarms—shrieking— Your corse—a statue— Stone cold and solid—and

Dear teacher, if only you knew . . . Feet dragging, heads hanging, We can’t see what’s true. Minds spinning, hands quaking, How can you know what we’ve been through? If only you

In life’s great furnace, we’re put to the test, Our souls refined, our hearts held to the flame Yet Christian values guide us through each quest, And shape our character as