ice clinks

sweet tea ice clinks

while my head rests in my hands

spinning thoughts

upon crazy worries and despairing images

like the thick, brown syrup

tangling a sunken, frozen cube

upon the sweating bottom

of a glass half-empty,

and i tearfully wonder

if this is the madness she suffered

if this is the mania he endured

or if i am simply imagining

being saturated by gloom

in some feeble attempt

to stir time backwards

so i can embrace them again

in honeyed, sugar kisses,

and stick them to me

permanently, forever.

January 20, 2011

Desperately seeking Grace

Oh dear, precious, absent Grace,

where are you hiding these days?

You’ve been run out of religion

by their sanctimonious judgment,

and this world, rigging games,

says you’re too green to survive;

weeds of greed, thorny with exploitation,

will quickly reap you naked

until you die.

(And that’s no lie.)

Must we declare an Amber Alert,

dear, precious Grace,

and also for Mercy, Love, and Peace?

Lost, we seek saviors from the sky

filled with clouds rolling thunder,

blinded to the hell we let reign down,

bruising the ground

and pummeling the weak.

(And the meek.)

Please show us yourself, dear, precious Grace,

you are so much more than simply missed.

Your existence is necessary

for the preserving of humanity’s

life everlasting

because of your promise in God’s loving Kiss,

raising us from mere animality

to authentic spiritual witness.

(And it’s worth the risk.)

If you are hiding in us, Grace,

here asleep on the ground,

come out, come out, wherever you are,

break free your chrysalis,

fly to us,

wake us,

and be found.

Spilled minutes

I have spent

much of my life

in grief and wine,

some of it medicinal,

but most thieving

of my time.