Tag Archives: Poetry

Least of These

I close my eyes
She appears again, in the haze
Of spent years and separate ways
And tears bent to earth.
Her moment torn open,
But she no longer remains
In the flowing wounds, the stains-
Her broken fragments of being.

I close my eyes,
And they’re ever kneeling
In like condition: healing,
A foreign concept- a mythical beast.
Love, a foreign language,
A muscle rarely-used,
A notion much-abused
And deeply mistrusted.

I close my eyes,
And open my heart in prayer.
You brought me here from there,
And I was too blind to remember the route,
But I remember You,
And the day I learned love was tangible,
Solid, substantial,
And I could receive it,

And I could give.

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Returned

These nights, these dreams
Pull poetry
Kicking and screaming
From some instinctual,
Guttural place inside of me
Wherein I must hide
All the wonder and dread
Once interpreting the world
Spread out before my eyes
Of flesh.

I treat it as a child’s toy,
Faded, torn, missing pieces,
Carried past the age of reason
A thumb in the mouth,
Plumbing the depths,
And four fingers cemented around
Some leg of its being.
If I leave it wherever I go,
I come home to find it
Laying just so in my bed.


Shuttling off the Coil

And so it is
What it will be-
I take the moment in stride,
But what it means,
What it changes in me,
Are collisions that can’t be denied.

I see the forked future-
Two twisted tunnels
Diverging into darkness,
And I must ride the beast of time
Into the unknown pummels
Of Decision & Destiny’s markets.

Who am I to choose? I’m a poor wayfarer-
And both tracks are wrong,
And both are right.
Perhaps if I saw farther, clearer,
But alas, my fear of the dark prolongs
The ever enveloping night.


Oh Me Of Little Faith

Tethered to these moments
Slipping in, slipping out,
Rocking forward and back
Along the way here:
To the place of my doubt;
To the place of my fear.

All my short days
In long years tossed
By grief, by illness,
By importunate pain,
And is it counted loss,
Or counted as gain?

Pulled from the softness
Of my welcoming bed
By a body in revolt,
A body ill at rest:
Lifting my weary head
To rehearse the confessed.

Always disturbed
By an unshakable feeling
In any moment
Scales may fall from my eyes,
And I will see I’ve been reeling,
Laboring under lies.

Calling You by names
You are not
Doubting the names
You are.
You’re the only reason
I got this far.

My brokenness
Is paralyzing-
My brokenness
Compels me on-
Mold these mistakes,
So terrorizing,
Into something held
And smiled upon.

From fire and ice
I was formed.
Burned by both-
Frozen still and raging wild,
Let me be again
Transformed.
Let me be
Your simple child.


The Defendant Rises

It never got easier
The way obedience usually does,
It gets heavier each year.
I was here in the beginning:
The territory is changeless.
Wasn’t I submissive
When the pastor said my mom
Got beaten because she wasn’t?
If she weren’t a contentious woman
He wouldn’t have to raise his hand.
Didn’t I understand?
When my pastor wouldn’t talk to me
Because my gender forced sexuality
Just like my abusers proclaimed
I didn’t complain.
When I discovered he’d known, for years,
What they did to me in the dark,
But fearing speaking to me
He just let it be.
Then, when I finally took his advice
Found a nice boy; surrendered to yoke
He broke the plan; he broke my heart
He wouldn’t even witness the vow.
I was never really included then;
Nothing’s different now.
I submit to the pastor
My husband picked out
He preached Jezebel was hiding
Inside my soul
I tried cutting her out,
But I never found her
now I’m never whole.
I tried asking him for help
But I’m the most dangerous whelp
The Kingdom of Men knows:
A woman who actually wants to grow,
but they have butchered me all.

When I was still a little child
They dug my grown-up grave.
With open hands raised, they invited me come
A tender thing, trusting, I knelt so young
In the hole they scraped
I became the slave
and all the rest was left unsung.


Pressed Prayers

Today I screamed silently
Into Your heart
Grief overwhelming my eyes
Torn apart
By all the hopes that die
Every time he raises his voice
Against us both.

When did we lose his heart
Or did I marry the lies
That have dried up and fallen
By the wayside
Of our journey together
Side by side
In opposite directions

What a little fool
I have always been
A fool for You,
A fool for him,
And foolish when
Wisdom drips like rain
And soaks the earth.

Four little hearts
Beat in our care,
Are they headed to You,
Or somewhere else
Only one of us can lead them
One can remain,
If our two hearts can’t beat the same.

I’m ripped asunder
And all Your promises wait
Are they drowning under
My failures? My sins?
The little fool I’ve been?
Can You pick them up again
And breathe in life?

Or did the little fool
Plunder her future
Her promise, her hope?
Dead promises, dead lies,
My path is comprised
Of the little dead things
I plucked while alive.


Winter Trembles

These flurries drifting in my skies,
Floating through my reason,
Express intentions unrealized,
A cool, restraining treason,
As though winter, holding back surprise,
Waits to drop her train and freeze us

Flurries in my secret vaults,
Flecks of dark depression
Whisper to me all my faults,
And leave the stark impression
That under my cold facade, tumult
Rages with aggression.

Who can restrain a single flake,
And who can speak to atmosphere
To reveal her flurries as mistake,
Her whispers altered and austere,
Who can reach inside to shake
The brewing storm severe?