We Must Suffer

a hundred brittle winters have passed
Since love broke that
yearning spine

and frigid fingers
Found fleshy places
to press               

     Fresh

like
harmless
lemons
      Smashed
by metal teeth

And yet somehow
this
   trickle
      of
         sweet Surprise
was
        Summoned

Daring and bold
she
     gathered herself

Amidst the
Reckless
sour
thrashing,

Grace making space
for her to
be another's
someday
salve

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,  who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God." II Corinthians 1:3,4

when i think of someone hurting you
of someone
lashing out at the little boy in you
running bases and shouting
insults at you

i am Furious.

i am like a mother bear
I'd like to tear them
to shreds

because no matter what makes them think so
it is not okay
what they are doing

and all you really need
are hugs
and ice cream
and a shoulder to cry on

I don't agree with it
there's always another side.
one might seem grassy
and the other a lie,
but things aren't always what they seem

you are brave for not defending the flesh
when truly it's the spirit at stake
but the spirit will still shine
after all harsh words resign
and you will be left sparkling there
without a doubt
upon your shimmering wings

i hate 'Christians'

okay, it's true. i do. and i always have.
hated the people who say "I'm a Christian"
"are you?"

i hate how they act
like it's all nice and neat and fits into a petite
little box
Like being 'a Christian' is a type of cologne you wear
or the way you do your hair
or maybe Spanish club

and when i was a kid i hated them more
i even swore
i'd NEVER be like them
walking around
talking about how
everyone else sins
and
telling their children
"you can't hang out with them"
because they are bad

good thing I later figured out
that most "Christians"
don't have a clue about Christ

because if I know anything at all,
i know that He didn't walk around
hanging out with a perfect crowd,
i know He didn't look to be powerful
or have money
or wear the right shoes
or tell women to wear skirts
or wash away the dirt
that covered them
before He came to them

no, I'm pretty sure most "Christians"
should just be called "clueless" about Christ

because He didn't tell people
to "pray for others" as much as
He told them "come to Me"
He had no interest in those that
considered themselves good
and considered themselves clean

He didn't look for people of prestige
with fancy cars
and diamond rings
at all

May I be bold enough to say for a minute
that maybe even Jesus hates "Christians"?
at least He has to hate
when they get
all puffed
up
like blowfish floating around like
they know
stuff
when they don't know this:
that
the only thing worth knowing is
that we don't know anything at all

if being a "christian" means following Christ than
they better get on the ball

or change their name to something
that better describes
the taste of vomit in a person's mouth

sorry, Anne Frank

sorry, Anne Frank,
but I lied yesterday
and a mother just murdered her child
yesterday

and what's worse is how is easily                          
she just walked away
because men like perfume
and a jury is swayed
by the lust in their heart
for the damned dollar bill

(sorry, I don't mean to be profane but strong sentiments are definitely necessary here)

my neighbor has blue suitcases sitting on his curb
because it felt better
to fantasize about what he couldn't have
than man up and

cherish                                                         
what            he  
                                already  
                                            does  did

i watch innocent children
who were not raised to lie
squirm and scream and get fiery eyes
when demanded they apologize
for the gaping wound on brother's knee

no, Anne Frank
those men
surely did
intend to harm you      

and everywhere
a candid
truthful
man does stand
she or he will see that indeed
we all think mostly of ourselves

and that is
not
the
least
bit ...
good

SO
the
best
thing

we can ever do
is ask
the        only One who
        
                actuallyIS

to  

please

forgive our souls
that we Einsatzkommandos, too
may neither
never
find ourselves
so full of blood
that we invent a gas chamber

***  "It is not that we can't do good.We do. It's just that we can't keep from doing bad. ..." Max Lucado

into The mirror

peel off that flesh
be brave
look inside
360 degrees show things
men try to hide

easier to dart the eyes
to pierce another,
run,
disguise,
champagne flutes
and poker lies
reveal a coward's game

but when the ticking masquerade
has stopped
 
and the crescent moon
has sliced the jet-black sky

the

silence      of self
                sets in

and threatens to eat you alive