Against convention

Short poem 5 (revised).

Against convention

I have heard those old school hip-hop songs –

long gone –

that rapped of civil resistance to the system,

made profanity a metaphor for civil rage.

That are – long gone.

Evolved into misguided flows and rhymes

of sex, drugs, greed and misogyny.

Blind, to a broken, burning world

in need of verse attune to reality.

Holy words, Holy deeds

Short poem 4.

Holy words, Holy deeds

Be Christ to me.

Be my savior in every wide-grinned greeting,

my healer in every hug and loving shoulder,

my redeemer in every gentle, sagely word.

Be Christ to me.

Not just in holy words, but holy deeds.

The Future is open

Short poem 3.

The Future is open

The future is open,

It wants no one shut it.

It is a door held ajar

waiting, like a virgin bride,

for the groom to walk in a consummate it.


Short poem 2.


Falling, like frosted glass.

Each fragment, a clue,

each shard, a puzzle piece,

portraying your life before the needle

 slowly sucked it away.

Back, when you laughed like a lory at sunrise,

leaped purposefully like a gazelle on thatch.

Back, before you strayed down the crooked road

the illusion of freedom provides.

Let’s glue these pieces back together.