Category: Poems
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The Sparrows Seldom Peek
The sparrows seldom peek inside the curtains for my mood nor sunbeams wait to dapple at the dogwood’s foot till I should smile.
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Man, Come Of Age
My sins are mine, my mea culpa tolls alone for me, it does not toll for thee. And what is sin? We’ve come to know that blood is cells and plasma. Call me, sure, when cameras click a sinner in a frame. Until that time a sinner’s just a name. My mea culpa tolls alone…
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The Blackbirds of April
From every post and stalk the blackbirds flash their epaulets and play commander, play inspector of the Spring like Washington, his hair still dark, surveyed the upstart nation. The redbud swells and they peruse it. Edges of the field they mark and split-rail fences stand them vantage when the sweet vermilion sweeps the berries and…
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A Bluebird For Barbara
You asked me why I’d chosen you.You hate to give or get a hollow gift,you said. You asked me how I knew the girl as gift who parked her truck to stalkthe raptors on the wires. It was my test.(We two still park to watch the red-tailed hawk.) And I remember how you wept…
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Lilies
One dark night I went out alone and found myself in the mystical show Gethsemane. On the mystical stone I prayed where the mystical lilies grow. Unseen accusers brushed my brow and also I was cut. Cut somewhere in flesh between my arms, somehow most dolorous but then a mystical repair closed back the skin…
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Father, Want Your Son
The purpose of today is: want your son.You want him when he feels it, thoughHe will not know he feels it till you die.A father-gift is how to do a thing,so give him, daily, gifts that he can clinkinside his counting-house when you are gone.By this fidelity the world is healed. Fathers lacking gifts spread…
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Applebees
Specked with wet but tawny in the sun; red like lips of children as they run to rummage near the roots of grass where, next to ground, the apple hollows, ringed with brown. Ringed with brown and rotting in the green like Samson’s lion, spawning in the heat both sour bees and gospel sweets. Those…
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The Devil Briefs The Court
I hate this show of blood and pain and jejune gods all wriggling on their crosses smeared with love. I wanted this? I ‘ll analyze with you your legal reams but not this propoganda of the deed. It’s self-indulgent, don’t you think? I hate this show of blood.
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The Charged and Fathered World
So let the father want, and like, and cry, and laugh, and trim, tweak, craft, and fix, and be therefore solidified. And let him say aloud “I want” without chagrin, but fully in view of his son. And then the son will be solidified and want with electrified want the charged and fathered world and together they’ll…