Friday, October 26, 2012


our pastor was raped
as a young man and fell in love with Jesus Christ
do not get me wrong, i can
except critique on any sermon but i do not
write for you, i write
for my own sanity and placing dominoes on
the table

and that observation
of observing destruction can be accepted as growth
or bottled  for some other salesman
as any stiff drink is no hell
no matter
what proof - but life is

but there is always a trickle of
well water beating through aquifers
of disaster and at least one angel
fighting for
the Holies recognition -

as salvation is what
we fall for -
not seek willfully -  with writers not being

idealist's but
whores of their own thoughts (understood)
pornographic or papal

 - do not get me
wrong -
beads sit at my bedside table - but it is my words
i sleep with

copyrighted 2012


  1. dang....well that puts it into perspective a bit now doesnt that there is water running through every disaster....true and some will use it to get on and make a difference and others wont...great write bk

  2. I like this poem a lot its tough and concise and has great imagery...

  3. Strong choices here. Love the harsher metaphors here, really a profound effect. Strong write. Thanks

  4. Hmmmm, I can't get you wrong, because I can't really follow.
    But hell, those are great lines which I keep reading because I want to follow. You tell us you have faith, with the rosary at your bedside and you go to church, but you show us a dark, confused and doubting mind.
    Or at least that is what I got.
    You seem to be saying, "What my words, not my outward life."
    Hmmmmm, see, I don't get it. But I wanted to.

  5. striking and intense piece. much can arise in the wake of disaster…"at least one angel. there is something hopeful in that and yet the tone of the piece still leaves me wondering.

    I found "I write for my own sanity" followed later with writers being "whores of their own thoughts" quite interesting.

  6. We are all prostitutes. By our fruits we are known.