Ezekiel 29-32; Revelation 11

A Wake for a Dream

I had a dream die today…

no, it was murdered.

A tragic carnage no one else gave their thoughts and prayers for.
To them it was merely a specter, or less.

Dreams are so frail,
unable to assert themselves,
thin, diaphanous waifs needing nourishment, tending.
I thought I could shelter it until it matured.

Then along came that butcher, that assassin
armed with a stray bullet.
Never knowing the dream was even alive,
she killed it with malicious indifference.
Her incidental aim was my heart.

Now I sit alone bleeding,
screaming into the darkness that birthed this fantasy,
punching the void.
Who do I hate more: the giver or the taker?
Qoheleth and Job, you would not mock me,
would you?
I have no tomorrow anymore.
God, where is the resurrection of the innocent?
Here is the dawn upon the grave.

I think, what now?
I meditate.
What if?
I wonder.
What will be?
I imagine.
What can be?
And I lay fallen dream to rest.

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Ezekiel 25-28; Revelation 10

Old News

Old is the new old.
Once upon a time gray crowns were golden,
every wrinkle was earned wisdom,
fading eyes were clear vision,
slow steps were sure,
and you weren’t expected to hear as much as to be listened to.
You fossil, put out in the pasture to be buried,
you have no treasure now.
Retire your tired ways.
Who needs your nuggets in a world where pyrite is currency?
Nobody wants to visit sequoias when the wild flowers are in bloom,
forgetting it takes the fruit and seeds from a previous generation to generate life.
New is the new old.

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Ezekiel 22-24; Revelation 9

The Ironic Man

Tragically, I grew old tragically,
shriveled as I sniveled, disheveled,
hunched with the weight of all nothingness,
confounded by the confines of scientifically certified luck,
unable to paddle against the torrents tormenting me.
My wand-wielding god is as spellbound as the poetic mute,
his word silenced by the silence,
vacated in the vacuum.
He has left my peacock’s feathers faded and molted by my molten bedrock
slithering
down
to the heights of heaven
where time is as unwrinkled as my mind.

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Ezekiel 17-19; Revelation 7

No Time for Transcendence

Tick, tock, screams the clock,
“There is no muse here.”
Tick, tock, it will not stop,
There is no poetry here.
Tick, tock, falls like a rock,
There is no rhythm here.
Tick, tock, why do you mock?
There are no lyrics here.
Tick, tock, the manic squawks,
There are no ballads here.
Tick, tock, creation’s gridlock,
There are no more verses here…

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Ezekiel 15-16; Psalm 70; Revelation 6

Lost Love

Oh love of mine, you hate this love of mine;
All I have given, you give away
To other lovers who love others,
Leaving you lingering in ragged lingerie.

Oh love of mine, who jilts this love of mine;
Like a cherry tart in a red dress,
Haughty, you stand on the street corner,
Selling your wares to any whose shame is shameless.

Oh love of mine, who shuns this love of mine,
What more can I give you than my heart?
Your sin is scarlet. My blood is red,
Cleansing you, a new virginity to impart.

Oh love of mine, you have this love of mine;
My dear, I will not give you away.
I am your lover and no other
Will chase your unchaste heart’s unspoken Kyrie.

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Ezekiel 12-14; Revelation 5

All In Love

All in love I give my all in love,
nothing else is my everything.
I count no loss for paying the cost:
every bit that I might be whole.

I can’t withhold what I can’t hold back—
I have to let go now.
Shackles unlocked, with angels dancing—
I play in sacred space now.
My appetite grows for sweeter things—
I am glutted and hungry now.

All in love, I give my all in love,
the die is cast with all my gold.
No labor in this labor of love:
the weight is no burden for me.

I lay down my wealth, such as it is—
it seems so worthless now.
Here is my time, with fresh wings take flight—
forever is always now.
I give up my power and bow down—
a greater power has me now.

All in love I give my all in love,
my treasures I treasure no more.
I will do anything that you ask
because you demand nothing from me.

I wish I could find words to say love—
this is my best for now.
I have given up every dream—
then has faded into now.
My first, my worst, dumped here at your feet—
for you are standing by me now.

All in love I give my all in love,
nothing else is my everything.
Breathlessly you take my breath away,
with my dying breath to you I sing.

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Ezekiel 8-11; Revelation 4

The Mourning News

New day, old news:
Bystanders massacred by cowards in a hell of bullets;
A crowd decimated by a suicide bomber’s reign of shrapnel;
Women kidnapped and enslaved by craven thugs.
And the responses drone on with growing bombast:
Verbosity, ideologies, policies, strategies, brutalities.
Hate heats hate,
For it is a devil of a scene behind the seens
As puppets tune out their strings.
How do you contain evil without being swilled in its vortex?
There are more things in heaven and earth, my dear laureate,
Than are dreamt of in your creeds, screeds, and rhapsodies.
You lesser angels do not know, nor understand,
With no ground to brace you in the darkness.
Pull back the veil, part the skies, face the facts:
No rapturous cavalry storms in to rescue thrashed bodies.
Martyrs must swallow the world’s distaste, absorbing the concussions.
Bloodshed begets bloodshed for a victory already won without a battle.
Armed with only a scalpel, the conqueror surrendered in triumphant humiliation,
The treaty sealed on hill far away, etched on a rolling stone.
In the churchyard the bulbs of lilies lie buried, resting, nurtured by gore and ichor,
Awaiting the season when they will worship the sun with all their beauty.

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