Exception –

“I cannot be bound to the confines of your rules. I am the exception to them.”
Truth Devour, Wantin  
 “Exceptions are not proof of the old rule; they can also be a harbinger of a new one.”
jennifer-sixx

We were together for years it seems

but those days are just part of a dream

 
 
Heaven sent but hell bound
 
for my blood scent a female hound
 
 
 
Things left a confusing scene
 
broken scars all part of the sheen
 
Your memory still at midnight prevails
for all that is wrong, it still leaves trails
 
No more tears, their long gone
buried in the shadows of woman’s song
When the afternoon’s sun turns to nights wrath, I’m left with nothing. But God.
There is way that seems right to man, in my broken mind it’s a fallacy. But God.
Lust consumes and passions lead on into the gray of a twilight future. But God.
In vain chasing the white clouds that bring relief from this insanity. But God.
But even the high stacks of fortune’s thievery leave me alone. But God.
No way out of this green mile of hell’s gauntlet, cheered on by devils. But God.
In the desperate flames, drums of throbbing nights beat my soul. But God.
But God
will destroy contradiction
will make a way of escape
will break sadness with a smile

will set the solitary in a family.

 

First published in Opinionsofeye.com

10192013

 

Thou shalt not – Yes you should! –

“I get up and pace the room, as if I can leave my guilt behind me. But it tracks me as I walk, an ugly shadow made by myself.” – Rosamund Lupton, Sister
*
Damn the guilt

Thou shalt not. When I went to church, that’s what I heard. Being a young man and given to many troubles, I struggled with my love for God while bearing the guilt of “thou shalt not”. Looking at the rigorous laws imposed on me by religion, I saw a weakness in their application.

Thou shalt not Lie. Really? I’ll lie till my tongue twists in my head to save you from harm. A man breaks into your house, your wife and kids hide, he asks you, “Where are they?”. OK religious man, you who impose on me your guilt ridden laws, speak up! Tell that man where your family is so he can kill them, or do worse. I laugh at your law now, you should lie!
Thou shalt not kill. Really? Do you know that your freedom to worship rests on the blood of many honorable and/or religious men who laid their lives on the line and killed to give you the choice to intellectually subject me to your guilt ridden standards. You should kill to protect your family, your nation, your freedom. I can go on and show that for every “thou shalt not” there is a circumstance in life that dictates you should.
 
Double standard? No, I see a higher standard. Wisdom is skillfully applied knowledge, knowing the rule isn’t good enough for practice of the same. Obviously we shouldn’t live on lies, killing people at whim. Here is wisdom, for every spiritual principle, “thou shalt not lie”, “thou shalt not kill”, there lies a spiritual application. If you maintain your hardened religious attitude and refuse to consider that every application of knowledge requires wisdom, guilt and confusion will be your companions for life. Taking the general principles of honesty and respect for life, I spiritually apply them. Im at a loss for the answers to this dilemma, however, know that I’ll lie to keep you safe, and I’ll kill to protect my friends, family, and nation. Understand the inherent weakness of rules and consider the full course of your beliefs before imposing them on me.

02152012

What if?

 “You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.” ― John Bunyan
catladythings
What if I discovered the reason I’m alive is to help you? And without that help, my life’s a waste, worthless crumpled paper blowing down an alley. What if the traps laid were my needs or an exploration of my feelings in an egocentric circle of lost opportunity? What if I looked for ways I can help? If I’m not here for you, then I must depart, this life has nothing to offer me alone. If there is no “we” on this earth, no family to belong to, no greater good to serve, then I’ll lay down in peace and give up my breath. What if my dying breath were given for a resuscitation of your life? Is this the greatest gift? To give my life for you? I’ve heard this sacrifice called the greatest love, do I pursue this divine commission? What if we knew that our ways were best fulfilled in this purpose, holding each other above the water? What if my strength grew with helping you, and shrank if I used it to tread the water of my desire? Then with a great heave I’ll lift you up, putting you on my shoulders to breathe, for your breath has become mine, and mine yours, and this is what we call living. 

Also Published in Broowaha Magazine


My Tree

Inspired by the death of a friend, the birth of a granddaughter, an ache in my aged bones, and the prayers of my youth.


bbeingmee

Mixed emotions gather in mushroomed gray lined clouds, a fever pitch of worried concern and loss of beloved companions. Friends carried away like leaves in the gusts, piling against some unseen barrier far away from my tree. Familial doves alight from my branches in pursuit of a roost built by man. Could this tree ever hold them? Life is a tornado of ever changing events, blink and their gone, but I need to close my eyes, the dust of change causes pain. Age pursues me with a ravenous appetite, lying like a pride of lions before the pool of forever hope. Will I drink, or will I be consumed, to be a part of something else, my bones becoming their bones, my blood bringing health to their blood? Sweet Peace, where have you hidden yourself? Are you in the garden, hiding behind a tree? Come to me and share your priceless trinkets. Blinking back tears, pressing against the incoming tide, I swallow inevitable foamed certainties. I pulled an old jar from the ground beneath my tree. In it I hid inscribed hope with these words: God dances over me with joy and He will give me rest. I close my eyes in a sleep that only comes to those who labored hard in the fields, harvesting crops of contentment from the begrudging earth.

Before the Family Breaks

“I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” –  J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
 
 


Carried on the wind of misunderstood words,
Dark armies of thundering adversaries now descend.
Little ones scatter under lightning insults,
Hail threats, and driving strife. 
Not much resistance
Before the family breaks.

See the clouds huddled in poised formation. 

Only minutes until the downpour begins. 
No amount of preparing can handle 
The flood of anger, the torrent of rage
That woefully conspire
When the family breaks.

Look In the blowing wind of change and see

Two shelters still remain, grace and clan. 
Withstanding the maelstrom, 
They set up a refuge and inspire unity, 
Calling us to band together, 
Before the family breaks.