Making the Book

The Year of Blogging is officially over. Now I'm turning to the new horizons of editing my poems into a collection of poetry for a book. You can help by Letting me know what you think my strongest works are or poems you'd like to see me improve. What are your favorites? The blog will not be updated daily until the end of the year so that I can work on this project. Please give me any and all feedback so this book can be the best possible collection of my work. Thank you to all my faithful readers and all who will support me as I continue in this endeavor.

Ode to a Year

Pages thick and deep of a poured soul.
Rain in drizzled wonderment and washed clean.
Accomplishment of full hope flames and mull
purging thoughts through vessels ignored yet sheen.
This attempt dared the youth to burn full tilt,
to summer's edge and winter's beginning,
with tumult and without break for breathing.
No weary leaf did wilt
through timeless times and hungry clocks spinning
but growth grew a soul and a hand teething.

Though boulders came crushing for writing blocks
no obstacle stood habit established.
Each corner had beat with crunching, cold knocks,
yet the long goal, down hill pursued, had this.
Melted teeth grit with sweat and desire for sound.
Perfected distresses and lethargy
conquered with determination and prayers.
Grace more o'er abounded
and rushed rescue to dulled and faded glee
to rise phoenixes and dragon slayers.

'Twas grace through which God did guide path unworn
and with sips of love and blessing He moved.
'Twas He, who birthed existence, made new born;
Words ordered in imperfect hands He proved.
Through this power and forming a small mind
He filled my fingers with hopes for a few.
He lifted me o'er every rock face sheer,
in me He dug the mine
and outed steel cages from which doves flew.
He wrote my hands in a glorious year.

An Ounce of Encouragement

WTF just happened, Bro?

It's crazy, like, all of the sudden, like,
the skies started raining shells and cheese
and steaks were thrown onto golden grills,
monkeys in tuxes were the waiters
and did line dances with every beer they served,
Because, you know, I did somethin' good.

It was, like, dancing in the rain, but like, manly.
Like getting hugged by unpoisonous amoeba
where it kinda tickles but it's still warm and nice,
Like high fives from all my friends
and a tornado made of massages,
because mom said it was good, you know?

I felt, like, like rockets were shooting from my feet
and the world was oysters and stuff,
and like I could punch walls
and make socks and sandals cool
and people would think I'm right about everything
and ask for my advice and I'd never be wrong.

Because, I never thought I'd hear that.
I didn't think it was true.
I didn't know it was right,
but now I do.





Thanks to Kris for this Saturday's Inspiration, when his mom encouraged his dreams.

To Mother on Her Birthday

You're really not that old,
though some may say that's false.
You've still got years ahead;
you could learn to waltz!

You can dazzle dance floors
with wisdom and precision.
Who said that living past youth
was cause for derision?

There are many lives
you have yet to touch.
And as with all the others
you will love them so much!

Find your latest chorus
and know your lasting song.
Your are full of grace
that will echo on and on.


Dedicated to my mom, Jennie, for her birthday today.

Even When

Even when my throat can't sing,
I will praise You for Your grace.
Even when everything is a blur,
I can see clearly Your face.

Even when my fingers can't grab,
I can hold fast to You, my God.
Even when I'm weary and drab,
I am strong with Your bod.

Even when my flesh rejects me,
I am accepted and loved by You.
Even when all fails and leaves me be,
You life and breathe and true.

R.I.P. Roar

Drown in water,
breathe in blood.
Wash your soles
in death's flood.

Follow the call,
crossbeam shouldered.
die to live,
remove the boulder.

Walk in hand
and graceful grin.
R.I.P to roar
against the sin.

Bitter Baby

Bitter baby bubbles and I feed it.
Is venom and flame and I stoke it.
Eats blood and so I slice.
Curls screams and I amplify.

Larger and uproarious it grows.
Deserving and just it grows.
Fair and hungry it grows.
Heavy and slimy it grows.

I should leave it started.
I should drown its breath.
I should burn quell its fury.
I really should. I really should.