anger from silence

Sitting still anger traps my mind thought blockingg
my body sick hot nauseating fear exhaustion sadness and pain
God above, how can I question the way
each day unfolds even in the silence.
my anger should be something I release
as I strain with patience for peace.

God above, watching over me everyday
give me strength to keep my silence.
my anger could be something I deny
as I hold my tongue and become wise.

still angry: how do you calmly benefit from my suffering
how do you steal and lie and cheat while I pray
to God above someday someone will take
the time to teach you another way
that somebody will be when everything
turns and someone does to you what youve done to me

Punishment

In my mind hatred flies at me with unceasing frenzied fervor
The people who despise me join forces and tell me
how craven and worthless and useless I am-
lazy, disgusting, degraded, a series of mistakes and now fouled
God must hate you they keep saying to me.
They tell me often we hate you because God hates you.

They are explaining it is a random choice.
The whims of the Creator that killed Abel
and made Esau forfeit his place
the same mind that preferred Joseph
decided you were wretched and a waste.

I do not even want to defend myself.
I listen and try to be quiet, like
being beaten or kicked if I move
I am saying the job is not done.

I try to be calm- their hatred for me keeps running
through my mind- you are hated because you are so awful-

The times I turn to you must be your blessing
Being covered and in prayer I take some comfort
from your grace and blessing.


Your love has faded from my vision
like the light dying in the sky as the night deepens
all the brilliant blessed moments
fade and the smothering weakness
of darkness takes hold of every navigating point.

I remember sitting in the car and thinkingyou did not love me
and the answer was quiet. No- this is not hate-
this lack is not a feeling from God

it must be punishment being given to me
and gratitude must be the response I need.
Every sin washes off of me.
This isolation becomes more and more the scraping
clean of diseased life, life where my life
lvies without you. Live then I can tell myself,
the love I need is purifying me for
love or heaven. I can anticipate
less time spent in hell's isolation
if I do not resist this cleansing.

I look around at the love in other people's lives
and think of the blessings I have-
of a man who said he had no one we should call if he were sick
of people lying on the street wrapped in bags
of the childless, the penniless, all the homeless, the friendless
of all this lest I forget to thank you
and spendd time in worship and praise.

yesterday: today: tomorrow

yesterday: you hit me and we were impoverished
stripped of all the upright bones of our bodies
a need for curtained bedrooms
wrought iron beds
a minute standing on the hill looking over the Bay
stolen books and scarves housed bohemian unstructured
every day a woman outside of me stood
speaking surreal words mimicking me

today: this strangled conversation between our lives
with its own translator
has been reduced to back ground noise
Work and money in the space of wrecked cars and foreclosed houses
Everything is dry
my fingernails have been broken and my fingers are grey


tomorrow?: hope for a transformation
ceasing to hover and then veer into morning or night
frantic run to jump to throw itself on joy
unwrap and undo the cords that hold back the covers and blinds
possibilities of serene movement
body against body simple contract
love and children and light are free

what I did wrong

I need to remember
that I begged for mercy and received
this abundance of blessings

now thinking back how I regret not taking more time
to praise and worship You

and for spending too long grieving when the sun was shining
or the rain fell over the sound of the freeway

before the car accident

a beautiful poem
sailed over head, a vulture on an unusual flight over the city park

adrift in my unconscious
the shape of clouds or the colors of pale red light

still, from this moment to that moment on the playground

I can recall the feel of the poem

and the sounds of children playing

a poem that grew alongside
Forgiveness total forgiveness
peace total peace
Jesus' love washing over my life and unbinding
a thousand sins

the arrogance of youth

There is something sudden about young people.

A rapid advance of thought- the quick grasping attention'
the startling innocence of perception-

They say something plainly- a lack of attention
becomes noticed- a slowness offends

my thick stiff mind takes light from each bright
moment and strains to feel summer arrive

a memory of the grass in the hills, the long low branch behind the mustard plants
the sound of the blackbirds and the change in the blueness of the sky
the clouds' absence

Dancing in Berkeley

a middle ground
between fearfuland beautiful
on the dance floor.
recovering from George W. Bush
bearing the guilt of the depression
reawakening and expanding
universes of music growing and collapsing

November 2009