The Beast

  1. Corralled inside a pen, all lured by change and hope.
  2. Shuffled through gate and chute, each coaxed by rod and rope.
  3. Scanned for tattoo and tag, then pushed inside the booth.
  4. And once the curtains part, each learns the grisly truth.
  5. Before their very eyes, they see the ugly beast,
  6. Two heads upon its back, four eyes desiring feast.
  7. One head is bloody red, the other deathly blue
  8. Both growl, and drool, and snarl, and lick, and sniff, and chew.
  9. They step onto the box, and stand so deathly still.
  10. The beast extends its arms, its mouths await their swill.
  11. Its hands latch onto teats, the left and, too, the right.
  12. And milked them dry of X, their stomach knotted tight.
  13. The beast took in its hands the cup of dreams once sown.
  14. Drank all without a care, and climbed onto its throne.

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The Painter

  1. Tonight, the sun did paint the sky the colour of cotton candy.
  2. With wisps of pink and tufts of blue, mouth wat’ring where I was standing.
  3. The smells from fairs waft through my nose; my lips are kissed with sweetness.
  4. The quiet hues enwrap my soul with penetrating deepness.
  5. The dawn today encased my town with fire breathing orange.
  6. The embers shining from the sky transform to something foreign.
  7. I cannot force my gaze away from trees, and grass, and flowers.
  8. My mind, my soul, my waking spirit bask in the warming shower.

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Mountain Climber

  1. All dressed in white, I travelled up the bumpy mountain trail.
  2. A decade long, the trek was slow, but cliff and face I scaled.
  3. For much of it, I climbed alone, ’cross countless pointed crags.
  4. I’d climb each one, a rod in hand, to plant the climber’s flag.
  5. Each step passed by, and soon I’d feel the summit growing near;
  6. I’d reach the top, gasp in delight; another would appear.
  7. And so it went, year after year, I climbed alone each peak,
  8. Assuming I had reached the top, worn hands and legs so weak.
  9. And then one stretch, no longer was I hiking all alone.
  10. Another hiker walked with me, attempting mountain cone.
  11. We shot some arrows with our bows, at rainbows made of grey.
  12. Then three years gone, we suddenly had gone our separate ways.
  13. It was not long ’til my path merged with hiker number two.
  14. Who likewise still no summit seen but loved breathtaking views.
  15. And for another year or so, no mount had felt our feet.
  16. Just petting lily-eating roes and tasting tulips sweet.
  17. But then they left for emeralds, and I alone once more.
  18. With rod in hand ascended I more peaks, each snowy hoar.
  19. But then, O then, hiker three had just come into my sight,
  20. So hand in hand, with lock-ed step, we jointly made the hike.
  21. It was quick, but on the way, we took the time to snack.
  22. Pomegranates, figs of green, and apples in our packs.
  23. And as we neared the summit firm, we hurried up our pace,
  24. Focused on eternity, we climbed with quickened grace.
  25. And then we reached the point so high, floating o’er the bluff.
  26. Misty warm, entwined with gold, amid soft sighs and puffs.

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Four births

  1. A mother strong had birthed that day the sun, the moon, and stars.
  2. She placed each one upon the sky—the night and day apart.
  3. The waters from within her womb now baptized all the earth
  4. With rivers, oceans, lakes, and streams, all products of that birth.
  5. Another day, the mother bore all seeds of every kind,
  6. Then planted them in soil enriched by water, blood entwined.
  7. Each seed grew up so mighty, strong, warmed by the sun above,
  8. And flowered, fruited, bounty grew, nourished by Mother’s love.
  9. On the third day, from Mother dear, came fin, and wing, and paw.
  10. “It is good,” our mother said, as she looked out and saw
  11. The measure of creation made, each type and, too, each kind.
  12. “But even ’mong my children here, there’re some I do not find.”
  13. So on day four, she birthed once more, and out came those like her:
  14. Her beauty, strength, persistence, brains, and meekness, courage sure.
  15. Her creation now complete, she drew her children near:
  16. The beasts, the fowl, the fish, the plants, the humans—her whole sphere.
  17. She counselled them, “You all are one, through birth, and life, and death.
  18. You take, you give, you show respect, in appetite and breath.”
  19. And then she spoke specifically to those who she’d birthed last.
  20. “Because you look and act like me, the torch to you I pass.
  21. To you the role of gardener, to nurture and to grow,
  22. To you the role of shepherd, too, each beast and bird to know.
  23. To you the keeper of the sea, to keep it full of life.
  24. To you protector of the sky, the source of breath and light.”
  25. Concluding now her court divine, she shared a sacred truth,
  26. “Your death is not the end for you; for yours’ a godly youth.
  27. Just as I planted seed on earth, I planted seed in you,
  28. A seed that grows with trial and curse, and wisdom, pow’r its fruit.
  29. The roots that grow within your heart will reach up toward me.
  30. The branches stretching out in faith, embrace eternity.
  31. Divinity is in your past, your future it entwines,
  32. For you, my children, each of you, is naturally divine.”

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Choosing

  1. The blood of God I seal inside a box with lock and key.
  2. Too, in that box, a bite of flesh I’m hoarding just for me.
  3. I treasure them with heart and mind, more than my flesh and blood.
  4. And when I choose between the two, I choose with echoed thud.
  5. I’ve bathed myself and purged my soul with treasures set ablaze:
  6. A cross, a clasp, a point, a drop, with power did amaze.
  7. The flames had turned my family bond to charcoal and to ash.
  8. The water drowned my seed and theirs; they vanished with my splash.
  9. My golden trump, with boldened blast, the rainbow did erase.
  10. My em’rald shield, with swipes and blows, pink, purple, blue defaced.
  11. My coat of skins, with heightened strength, had smothered black and white.
  12. And while they gasp, I scream, “Me! Me! Oh, hey, all look at I!”

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Down the Hatch

  1. Doubt your doubts, and dull your pain; another shot of prayer.
  2. Fear your fears, and drown your ache; a pint of scripture share.
  3. Strain your strain, and slosh your sting; a flask of fasting true.
  4. Hurt your hurt, and quaff your grief; a swig of signs renewed.

Sidelines

  1. Show up to the protest, but put away your sign.
  2. Shuffle to the shadows, perhaps another time.
  3. Mouth closed with a zipper, your hands behind your back.
  4. Step in line with others, responding to the crack.
  5. Spirit—eager, willing—is anchored to the floor.
  6. Heart so filled with justice is tucked into a drawer.
  7. Marching to the music, in place, but knees up high.
  8. Stuck in your small prison; your children walk on by.

Broken bones

  1. Mask to wear and rules to keep.
  2. Cross to bear but buried deep.
  3. Helping hand just slapped aside.
  4. Burning light in shadows hide.
  5. Welcomed guests but cloned from mold.
  6. See the hearth from out in cold.
  7. Words and tongues, and growls and groans,
  8. Sticks and stones, and broken bones.
  9. Misshaped heart that does not fit.
  10. Echoed silence, e’er I sit.

Sipping tea

  1. Patty cake and taffy pull.
  2. Cotton candy, marshmallow.
  3. Tastebud tempting, hunger pangs.
  4. Chomping air with razor fangs.
  5. Crouched within the starting block,
  6. Dusting palms with lifter chalk.
  7. Ready for the gruelling feat.
  8. Stuck instead with sipping tea.

Yearning

  1. Yearning for learning, but nothing is stirring; concerning the burning, the journey has halt.
  2. Churning and turning and swirling and whirling, discerning the hurting as church-led assault.
  3. Question the lesson or make a suggestion is seen as aggression—suppress in your sin.
  4. “Lessen oppression, and stop the digression. Just standard expression and whitewash-ed spin.”
  5. Lonely and coldly, am sitting remotely, abandoned so slowly, in shadows I wait.
  6. Wholly unholy, now only a phoney, and no one still knows me, a plateaued deflate.
  7. Listen for bliss—am just missin’ the kissin’ of spirited fixin’ my paradigm shift.
  8. Christen the ship and dismissin’ the tricks and the politics mix; yet am feeling the sift.