Poems 2024

40 Poems from 2024
(Click on the Purple to jump to that layer)

Layer 1 Poems
Isaac
Fabricated Security
Partum Walls
A New Thing
Refuse

Layer 2 Poems
Stoned Angel
Shepherd
Shine!
Cell Calls
One Alive

Layer 3 Poems
Divine Decree
Teresa and Gary
No and Know
Shift
Preach!

Layer 4 Poems
Come In!
Recompense
Memory
Go to Work
Pom Pom Poof
Out of My Reach

Layer 5 Poems
Survivor
Same Page
French Fry
Mama Duck
Brad
Psalm 1
Insecure

Layer 6 Poems: The Beatitudes
Matthew 5:3
Matthew 5:4
Matthew 5:5
Matthew 5:6
Matthew 5:7
Matthew 5:8
Matthew 5:9
Matthew 5:10
Matthew 5:11

Layer 7 Poems
Salt
The Ark
Whom are your disciples like?
Ready yourself

Isaac

sharp blade
machete ready
miss-guided
nearly lops
off his own
finger tops!

angels cry
"engage
this soul-beat-staccato
next-note mind!

haloed ones
call to those
willing
to listen
to the litany:
detox
from Mormon
from fentanyl
from pain of too-skinny-tall
too-smart
from cluttered art
from isolation
of a mind
that won't conform
reform
craves transform
by whatever
means...
heroin, booze,
cocaine,
can't choose
to stay away
and today
mixed
coffee and tea
mistakenly
cuz has no time
for reality,
a distraction
from wide-awake eye
on Abraham
so
sharpen the blade
lest he
take him,
take him away
"never again!"
to where
world deports
those who refuse
medications
sedations
take him to the pyre
psych-ward fire
where no angel
calls out to
save the man
laid out
on sticks
to fix
an offering
to the dominatrix...
send angels for Isaac,
ones
who wait
who engage
who listen
who love
who make space
give Grace
cause to breathe
angels who thereby
sheath
the blade
wielded to burn
the gift of this babe.

"Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son.
But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven and said, "Abraham, Abraham""
And he said, "Here I am."
He said, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son from me."
Genesis 22:10-12

Fabricated Security

hear him
slowly speak
to my bones
"the lie is powerful,"
felt it
on its way
and prayed
"no Lord,"
but wasn't having my way;

Walmart aisle B16
the scene
of the whisper
sense
no words
just a dissolve
where what seemed real
since a milli second
riddled
by unknowing
takes over steadily
something
brings it
near,
nearer
identity rifts
what I thought I knew
shape shifts
emerges an unknown
who I run from
not the familiar hand
thought held
not the loving presence
thought felt
but a vanisher
sent to persuade
to love
who'd leave
fly away
or bring me down
into a dark cave
a voracious gobbler
sent to deprave;

now on aisle A3
i see
coffee, creamer, tea
somehow in Wally World
hours have passed
for old ideas
to be lost, shed
in prayer
as led
in that place
"the lie is powerful"
takes me
to a deeper cry
mercy
Lord, have mercy,
set me free
surrender me
in this struggle
that was, is,
and never ever will be
mine to win.

so came to
where he needs me,
the aisle of humility;
the "limit 20"
cashier
who released me past
security
past humungous carts
to parking lot
to wobble-walk
wake-up:
don't count on human love -
it leaves.
Trust the Divine
and love one another
LOVE one another
in the unknowing
dissolving
of fabricated
security.

Partum Walls

Alma gave birth
over weeks,
her body
a living womb
labored
at eighty three
with COPD
to release Spirit
back
to Maker
to remember
the Way to Life
as the aged man
who held
7-day babe
smelled
felt
the portal back
to what was,
the return route
to God Most High
the Realm.
"It's hard work"
she whispered
and I,
who has given
birth twice
drug free
to feel
the majesty,
have felt the pains,
have envisioned
the parting walls
with mantra of
"open..
open...
open..."
to pass
to free
first child
second child
believe her pain
believe her hard work
believe the third child
to be
the birth of me
from this living womb
back to eternity...

Jesus said,
"The old man
will not hesitate
to ask
a seven-day-old babe
about the place of life,
and he will live."
Jesus as quoted
in the Gospel of Thomas
saying 4

A New Thing

woman,
encircles a man
"a new thing,"
Jeremiah says
and steps forward
through time
to down-the-line
unfoldings...

why new?
women
for millenia
grew
wombed,
circled,
embraced...
women
gave-give heaven,
home
and in age
hold-love
become one
embrace
enable escape
from ratatata race

why new?
what of Christ
who
in "sacred androgeny"
in labor
on the cross
on the tree,
was subsumed
consumed
into Spirit
energy
encircled
unfurled
gave birth
to the whole world!
Is this
what Jeremiah
meant?
the cross,
the delivery bed
his gush-blood
from side slit
afterbirth
exit
of what
is meant
to transmit
new life
rebirth
to encircle
Son of Man
now become woman?
torn is the veil
cry out, wail
"Abba why?"
as we women,
too, have cried
just as the child
makes ready
to enter the wild...
a woman encircles
a man
per divine plan
mother prays
hovers
at Calvary
Marys cover
embalm the Christ
with herbal-spiritual
recipe
and a new thing
happens
to change,
give birth
a woman's
circle round
the whole world.

"How long will you waver,
O faithless daughter
For the LORD has created
a new thing on the earth:
a woman encircles a man."
Jeremiah 31:22

Refuse

met Doris
on jury duty
sought refuge
company
as we waited
on courthouse
benches
day after day
novelty
went away
she called me
"puddin"
and I felt safe
with this middle aged
woman
tiny frame
and thus passed
many days
til the ruling
freed us back
to "normal" fray
but
Doris
didn't want
to go her way
and called
left messages
to say "call me back"
but I
wanted her
to leave me alone
get the message
and the Lord
revealed
to me today
how I used her
and it pains me
to see the truth
of my callous heart
that'll use people
and treat
life refuse
except
when my need
wants
what it wants
and right now?
It's to not see...
this ugly
this very real
part of me.

Stoned Angel

left alone
hours ticked
time itched
and a restless twitch
shifted
into motion
confinement
in New Orleans
downpour
meant no door
open to walk-wander
and expend
energy
dispel the compel.

paint found
under kitchen sink
inspiration
to go ahead
just go ahead
and paint
that wall
and so
roller-rolled calm
as mind
aligned
rhythm of work
steadied
soul-heart
in his need
his NEED
for Presence
bigger than
agitation,
broader than
physical
spiritual
subjugations
yet in that holy place
face to face
with lack of faith
no trust
was awakened
to "MUST"
and the validity
of that which
will not fail us
charged brush
with urgency
of message
to self
to community
"TRUST,
trust me
and I will trust you."
silver penned
on wine-colored-cross
with wine-light rays
explosives' display
calling all
to pay attention
to the fourth dimension
-not abandon
the truth
of the Kingdom
the cross of Liberation,
Christ's electric chair
for affirmation
of resurrection
of vindication
pintor signed
his pine
"the stoned angel"
for all
who are beaten
by not heeding
the call
of their own
God-given soul...
"Don't abandon
the Living God"
and just as the painter
cried "TRUST:
so too we
who see
his wild plea
must TRUST
or be stoned to dust.

Shepherd

in the name of
spirituality
folks say,
"easy,"
"be still"
"let it be..."
yet there is
Holy Busy
a divine Buzz
that knows...
a flow,
a stream
a gurgle
that goes…
rush-gushes,
then pools
to slow-cool
to then speed again;
cooks
cleans
cares
repairs
not in the Spirit
of gotta-get-it-done
but in the rhythm
of life
of tend-feed
lambs-sheep
of love,
peaceful free
or a chance
to be
in own serene
down-deep
delight
in the dance
of response
ability.

Shine!

radiant
in a blaze of
crisp
white
cotton
big-leg-baggy
jeans
white
shaggy dog free
hair;
eyes on fire
mascaraed perfectly
the look
refined
crafted wine
access power,
Buff to shine
Puff to shine
shine to climb!
imperative
to shine!

Cell Calls

talk
early morning
and connection
cheers soul
endears
you to me
courage
to speak
interrupt
be "me"
- the one
crafted by
water on stone
chisel on rock
fire on weeds
nurturing
finding
a voice
that speaks
and you hear
and speak free
we
hang up
and say
"thank you God"
and love
our connection
kicks off
a craving
and calls
transform
too quickly
into cells
of expectation
of more
rather than savoring
for a time
and half a time
what went before.

One Alive

Sigh
as she listened
to soul's song

spoke to her
spoke into her
spoke of-for her

this woman
bringing to life
singing
a whole life
birthing a life
with Word

She in turn
spoke...
others heard
harmony
grew
and the Spirit
diffused
seemed
to gather
render
unity
as each next share
brought
the One.

Divine Decree

slender on cell
cold as hell
Zulu parade
Mardi Gras day
7am Jonson
and Orleans
shaking knees
in skinny jeans
i woulda
begged,
"need some coffee!!"
but she
"need some weed..."
and here
at nearly 40 years
of sobriety
I wonder
"why not weed
for me?"
legit query,
no?
Here's
what came to me...
not going to reason
with my insanity
or Your
divine decree
just accept
Your terms for me
and not
judge or covet
her weed
it's just NOT
for me.

Teresa and Gary

her light
caught my eye...
had just dropped
to driver's seat
after a day
of so many,
so so many
with no connection
face to face
on the street
unseen
but her
through the car
window
waved
"Are you an Uber?"
"no, but where
you need to go?"
maybe because
I already knew
deep within
where You are
that months back
she had
broken her hip
and Gary,
neighbor, best friend
at the retirement home
remodeled from
her own elementary school
at Franklin and Lavender...
had picked
her up
like a stick
off the floor
and now here
with her
decked out
in Zulu
mega-beads
fleur de lis
with
mini-frisbees
we had church
in the car
we three!
"God is so good!"
"What a blessing."
"Patty's not
gonna believe this.
Just finished
saying didn't
know how
gonna make it home...
pain too great,
place too far,"
and that spark
caught us on fire
and my CRV window
opened
and Teresa
in the front
with me
Gary in the back
crazy how
all the little things
put us
at the precise moment
to be there at that corner
for each other.
And Gary said
sincerely,
"You ever need ANYTHING,
just come see me,
here,
where you leave us."
and I just know he
says what he means...

no and know

less is more;
don't pour
don't eat
don't fuck,
feel the heat,
and please
find what's cheap...
smother love
under a heap of
"no's"
"can't go's"
in the quest
for peace
control
protection
from being whole
"silence!
y'all too loud..."
less noise
less motion
"be still and
'n' 'o'
spells NO!
God in simplicity's
a prison
too
meant to
sever
me from you
NOT God's plan
though it's true
many friends
have passed through
my journey
as they've
come up against
my passion
for the One
for connection
to a story
we inhabit
begun
at the foundation
of the earth,
the universe:
read, study,
converse
observe
one way to go..
then simplify and
"Be still and know,"

Shift

my child
has
so much hair
run fingers
through
and we stay
in that place
a while
can see
it feels good
-they don't move away
we need
a touch
tenderness
so often
before lost
due
to my energy
which finally
shifted
via divine
bludgeoning
from
"let me help"
to "let's be
in this experience
together:
powerless,
present,
at peace..."

Preach!

Preacher!
LET GO, baby
why stop short,
strip,
contort
distort
the miraculous
to be
mundane???
drives me insane
gotta pray
and reach
beyond what's easy
to believe
to
PREACH!

Come In!

Welcome
Shalom
we are glad you are here
this refuge
is for us
this ark
a respite
to nurture
God's Love,
Power,
Way of Life.

March
twenty twenty three
we entered
to smell, see
ceilings
full of nicotine
yet felt
Holy Unseen,
Presence
a sense
here
seems
many have prayed
many cared
here
driven to prayer
here
to bring
Creator
in crystal clear.

good God's
gifted hands
transformed
this physical space
and we prayed
and we pray
to not corrupt
disrupt
what pre-dated us
and sustain Presence
in this ark
secure
from the storm,
for community
for all
who enter
to nourish
and share,
uncover, discover,
truth and care,
excavate faith,
let voices
lead to God's-will choices
to Creative Energy
sustained sobriety,
to an inside-our-own-sin
sanctuary
rebirth into One...

so welcome!
Shalom!
We are glad you are here!

Memory

memories
can be used to say
"once upon a time
I mattered
and I knew people
who mattered"
or as witness
to a true story
that reveals
the way things flow,
crash,
turn
from here to there
when everything
seemed so confusing,
up in the air,
terrifying,
unfair,
serendipitous,
vulnerable
at the time...
memory
can deflate
when the telling
abates
or give courage
to wait
or take
the next step,
assured
by the looking back
the Hand of Mercy
the Almighty
was, is, and always will be there.

Recompense

wolf woman
pisses me off
walks
her leashed
fluffy huskies
in tunnel vision
lets them piss
on our stairs
never shows
she cares
never looks
right or left
just wicked,
mean absence...
unaware
she's walking
in her recompense.

"Thousands may fall at your side
10,000 at your right hand
but you will only look with your eyes
and see the recompense of the wicked."
Psalm 91

Go to Work

Each morning
I go to work.
the "work"
is to resurrect You
with,
above,
around,
through
in...
risen Christ
risen faith
let me channel You
into this space
of busy-ness
of coffee thirst
of self improvement
of me first
of routine, plans,
myriads of scams,
that rob Divine
of its light
rob Presence
its preeminence
that rob love
its flower,
replace words
with a babble tower,
sublime
lack of Power.

so let me work
to resurrect You
with,
above,
around,
through
in...
risen Christ
risen faith
the day awaits.

Pom Pom Poof

last night
a man in a
pom pom
black hat
black hair
red nose
from real cold
shared...
somehow
easy to hear
slid past my judgement
and fear...

"my name
is Oscar"
and in a sea
of voices
his reached
me...
"don't want
to be perfect,
to be in that cage...
to be clean
is to be me
and do
different
and watch
the wicked
inside
not to hide
him from You
or me -
just to keep
him
from power
to define,
defile,
design me
or hurt you...
I made a choice
not for him
but for You..."

and then...
his voice
went poof,
pom-pom, too..
into the real cold
with his
red-nose.

Out of my Reach

God,
why do you always
seem to place
what you need me to see
just out of my reach?
I pray
to see it...
Mark 6: 1-13
page 70
opened at random
and then delivered to my door
3 hours later.
Don't expect to be heard by family
by anyone...
just keep plugging
and plunging into you.

Survivor

Google maps
shows
three houses
in a row
trees grew through
windows
roots crawl
over roof
sought
consumption
that brought
demolition
two houses down
one remains
to serve
purpose
pre-ordained
Zillow lists
sixteen fifty six
the Creator clicks
heals
and we are home
in this Ark
of Presence
in the Seventh...
when did the Divine spark
enter this Ark?
prior to
stakes,
poles-in-swamp
ground-break?
did praise, stomp
prayer
fill this space
time ago?
must have been so
as together
we feel
connection
and continue
to in-vite
delight-in
protect
the out of sight
Presence
found herein
this beloved bone
whose Spirit
quietly
has withstood,
a Survivor in the hood.

"This building
is more than building.
It is body.
It is bone,
It is a breathing, living ancestor -
a soul that knows and feels.
It asks us to open ourselves
to all it has witnessed,
It asks us to listen -
to see what it has seen."
-Regie Gibson

Same Page

some folks
feel it necessary
to correct,
corral,
tap you back
on the path
and that’s okay…
channels
of the rod and staff
been led that way
as a lost sheep
that meanders
zig zags
bolts off
in a coma daze
to escape, postpone,
evade…
but not
my treasure friend
Mama Jenn
who's ready
to open the gate
lead out the pen
and in my case
saw I was close
to a door
and craving more
opened a tome
fast grabbed from
she-knew-precisely-where
in bookstore
rows of fare
to show
the self- consciousness
of the African mind,
it’s meta-cognitive
capacity to see,
express,
and determine itself
as she
in turn
further
empowered me…
”I see you”
wordlessly
that white nose
pushed up against
the window
fogging up the view
with its own willingness
to see truth…
and now,
seven years have passed
that spark
that flared
that gratitude
still lights a refuge
through it all
big and small
and we don’t prod or corral
just share tacos
books
laughs
as we both seek
to be channels
of sanity
and compassion
in this coo-coo nest
complexity
and give
a big big hug
at the close of many days
to say,
”well done my sister”
no matter what
came our way…
knowing our hearts
are on
the same sacred page.

French Fry

red light
look to right:
twine-thin tall papa
walkin'
eatin'
looooong fry
dangled fry
suspenseful fry
might break
not make
it to mouth...
live-wire child
down south
jumps at thighs
sweet braids fly
as he tries,
wants,
cries
"my turn!"
worm for bird
potato-skin pops
lowers the gold
passes son
child holds
dangles
hand over head,
walkin'
no talkin'
nibbling
salty loooong gold
miraculously
doesn't break
(God knew what
was a stake.)...
light turns green
in rear view
see
them keep
walking
down the street...

Mama Duck

thank you LORD
you've given us a way
to be water
to be wind
to flow out and in
to get unstuck
out of inner, outer muck...
to hear JJ's
tale
of mama duck
with six chicks
after a day of
nothing-but-trouble
no pink-cloud bubble
poked
and criticized
pushed
and minimized
at Malice's Palace...
punched out
to see
mama's duckling parade
released
JJ's warranted pain
surprised
he could even see,
crack a smile
bout Mama Duck's
waddle down Washington
with her entourage
midst the grumpy,
fancies
awaiting valet...
Mama tuft-fluffed
JJ's trouble away...
thank you LORD,
you've made us
water
wind
to flow out and in
to get unstuck
out of inner, outer muck
thank you LORD
for Mama Duck.

Witness

delivers pizza,
pale,
still hands,
thin frame,
straight,
wispy-fine,
mouse-brown hair
Roman nose
sweat shirt
unzipped
baseball cap
downward tipped...
quiet in chair
almost not there...
when did he come?
does he hear?
yet somewhere,
somehow,
seed sown,
word heard
new phase
unfolds...
small table
at Old Road
with Steve...
they read, speak,
low but true
gentle spark
less mass than a quark
that lightly drew
him
out of obsession
for booze
out of depression
soul suppression,
self-pity,
despair
into a twinkle
today
under that same
cap and frail frame,
love is there
LOVE is there
and gratitude
and I too
am grateful
to see alchemy
that bears witness
to the One
here, there,
everywhere,
to Thee.

Psalm 1

Blessed is the one
who contemplates
simple rules,
spiritual laws;
we are like trees
planted by streams
of living water
offering fruit
at ripening time
green leaves
oxygen endlessly;
we thrive thus,
delight,
when meditating
on a next step
of the Way;
when steering clear
of endless booby traps
of cynicism, the quick fix,
of killing ourselves
to be on top;
God created
God sees
our how we move
at infinite choice-points
each new day.

Insecure

"peace,
peace"
say the prophets,
as they suffer
mask rage
arrogance
confusion
behind talks
with soft tones
low lights
and no time to listen
no money to share
since a retreat
in Belize
is a "must!"
Where's a true
city of refuge
who
can house us?
Where is
place
to shed
old skin
like old snake
wise
as a serpent
gentle as a dove?
Lead us to
see from above
from the mountain,
from the ramparts,
from United seat 33C,
Blble study,
12-Step Journey,
from near death,
from revelation,
quantum physics,
from "the beauty of the Earth,
glory of the skies,
from the love which from our birth
over and around us lies."
Lead us to see
what bears witness to validity of deep peace
and how do I
make that peace real for you
as it often is for me...
often is for me
in You, with You
my Guide,
Protector,
Mother,
Father,
Prince of Peace;
and I question,
"is this peace
I feel worthy?
just vanity?
valid...
though riddled with
necessary insecurity?
important humility?

.

8 Beatitude Poems

Matthew 5:3

Electric saw
way backa
Lowe's aisle 35
10-foot board
halved
perfectly
though it was tempered wood
and "I'm not supposed
to use on tempered;"
said the cutter
and I knew
$4 was in my pocket;
kinda wanted
to tip
but
felt some kinda way
and remembered half hour wait...
had waved a couple times
at the beeping
forklift
energetic flag-holder guy
who ran
to the man
on the mic
and we all heard,
"help at the saw
help at the saw..."
and very eventually
the cutter
appeared
relieved
to see my smile
in spite of the wait...

bought the two
5' by 8" by 2"
and, tired now,
wheeled out
to Lowe's lot
where
homeless He
approached
felt it right away
He assumed
I'd be afraid
but invited him near
with words no one
could hear
"need help?"
"oh thanks"
opened the trunk
and walked to the front
to show him respect,
trust, dignity
"I'm from Houston,"
"Okay, Houston.
Thank you"
and $4 flew
and true gratitude
ensued
not the fake
the real deal
we exchanged
God's energy
and our encounter
charged my day
changed my way
and took me back
to the morning
with my ladies
my beautiful friends
around a round table
reading Matthew
"Blessed are the poor in Spirit
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven"
cuz at that moment
him and me
We
were in heaven
right where we couldn't
have known
We
would be...
freed by
spiritual Poverty.

Matthew 5:4

many
facets
of mourning
many
many...

mourn
personal pettiness,
self-pity,
envy,
indifference,
humanity...

grieve
loss of love,
by closure
or death
or change
or betrayal...

grieve
a "dream deferred,"
business bankrupt,
body sold,
tools, money, trust stoled...

mourn remorse
over wrongs
wrought
or received:
adultery,
addiction to pornography,
insanity,
blasphemy...

grieve the chasm of iniquity
between
who I want to be and reality,
between
you and me,
between oppression and liberty,
between
Park Ave
luxury
and the
homeless
broke and
truly needy...

grieve the trauma of cruelty,
tragedy
played out daily
in squabbles,
prisons,
courtrooms,
board rooms,
crashes,
fire and ashes,
backlashes...

to feel it
means the conscience is liberated,
free,
true tragedy
is to be without grief
without remorse
without societal or self-examination,
love penetration...

to never mourn
is to never be reborn
into truth,
a new heart
cleansed
with Holy Water
restored
with Sacred Honesty,

God of many names,
let us grieve,
let us mourn
at what we see
and be
and hence be comforted by Thee
and by our
Holy Spirit Family.
"blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted."

Matthew 5:5

DeeJay
snapped Zora
green eyed cat
within plants
saw her
though
on the way to
work
big job
stress
complex job
iPods,
iPhone,
Chrysler car,
meetings not far off in his day,
yet
paused,
struck by her pose,
beauty in the greens...
he's been raised
a real man,
by authentic family,
as meek,
surrendered to God,
his own art
speaks
"most young
kings
get their heads cut off,"
walks
unshakeable
a firm foundation
self-examination, meditation,
prayer
and friendship
not missing the forest or the trees,
walks with profound dignity,
nearer our God to thee,
inheritor of the Earth,
hears hawks squawk,
cocks crow,
and sparrows sing,
not missing
in his Spirit-pace
stride
Zora's green
eyes open wide.

"blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."

Matthew 5:6

losing friends
of late
no goodbyes
just swoosh
vamoosh...
and
I hunger
thirst
for what kicks off
crave
coffee
sugar
booze
feel good tools
ways to evade
stark truths...

so how can it be
that a wretch like that,
like me,
hungers,
thirsts,
for more
of You my God
my King,
my Everything,
a woman who
wonders
on this hard day
how to stay
in the right
in Your way
detoxing
from
old idea
that I need
to be approved,
accepted,
stamped,
cool
by anyone but You...
Let me hunger and thirst
for what is right in your eyes
and surrender to the path
that is my life
and satisfy me
Oh God,
on the other side of this release
to be
at peace
in my skin
deep within
never alone
cuz angels,
ancestors,
Christ,
accompany me
in community
at home
alone
and are
enough
when waters are rough,
enough
when feelings are tough
enough,
with you here
by my side
and inside
to provide...
yes, Lord,
I am satisfied.

"blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied."

Matthew 5:7

he just couldn't love
the entitled
and I couldn't blame him.
Everyday
was a new
unfolding of iniquity,
the way I talked, walked,
cooked,
shopped,
that air of arrogance
entitlement permeated
nauseated
devastated a chance for our love
and he wouldn't couldn't pray with me...
so what happened before with Freddy could not repeat.
no forgiveness no mercy
no shared humility
no recognition that without God, all that remains is domination, subjugation,
crippling insecurity

blessed are the merciful,
for they shall receive mercy.

Matthew 5:8

Archangel Michael
crushes the serpent
sword aloft,
wide wild wings
victory
over evil
black and white on broad back
canvas
tattoo
of thick necked
red necked
Louisiana man
deep listening
nods
as she speaks
"O.D.'d last week
on Ketamine"
purity
of connection
recognition
in her
in her testimony
mirror
of himself
he watches
hears
over months
her surrender
to the work
steps 1, 2, 3...
now in inventory
cleans house
of pain,
struggle
and Friday
four thirty
prays for her
and is overcome with love
with pure love
no,
not sexual
but head to toe
face aglow
shows
like Moses
that he's seen God.
"Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God."

Matthew 5:9

Approach
to amend
for vanishing,
withholding
a word
of my whereabouts
caused worry
to those who
birthed,
loved,
cared for me,
raised,
fed,
clothed me.
Vanished into
months, years of untraceable movement
and could not understand
until my own
child
until my own child
withheld,
withdrew,
grew
angry
at my choices
my voice,
and then I knew
the pain I put you through
even if you
negated, dismissed,
thought it didn't exist.
I knew
and my Creator did too
and I make this amend,
as I see myself in you and in my child too
and seek Peace with
the time it took
to get here;
my God,
why did it have to take so long
to admit the depth of my wrong?
to let go of my need to be right?
my need to fight?
to see
that we are no different
identify you in me,
a keen,
razor sharp
soul surgery
extracted my capacity
to separate
from Judas,
from two thieves,
Pharisees
anyone
in the "we"
of this world
especially from my now truly beloved family
now weened,
finally weened
from dependency
to be a child
of the Holy
of the One
and only One
in whom is Peace.
"Blessed are the peacemakers
for they shall be called children of God."

Matthew 5:10

Protect the whole
with words
with prayer
with truth
speak of the Risen Lord
the Mystical Body of Christ,
the Messiah,
Yeshua,
Joshua
Hosea,
The Lord of Hosts,
The Most High,
the Creator,
Maker,
Redeemer,
Holy One of Israel,
the LORD,
the One,
El Roi (the God who sees me),
Immanuel,
Prince of Peace,
Savior,
King of Righteousness,
The Alpha and Omega,
The First and the Last,
Son of God,
Son of Man,
Ancient of Days...
Go ahead and persecute me for believing the prophets, for seeeing the Presnce in the tabernacle,
the Mazzaroth, the 7 festivals,
the chakras,
and send me flying to my gift.
Keep me strong
as your disdain chisels off
my need for approval
in order to speak and live and walk the truth.
"blessed are those who have been persecuted in the name of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

Salt

Wept this morning
under assault
I am NOT "the salt,"
my own voice
said to me
convincingly...
went into
deep prayer for a Word.
candlelight at dawn
heard by heaven
opened to Luke seven:
"Do you see this woman?
I came into your house -
you gave me no water for my feet,
but she has made my feet
wet with her tears
and dried them with her hair.
You did not give me one kiss,
but she, from the moment I came in,
has not ceased to kiss my feet.
You did not anoint
even my head with oil,
but she has anointed my feet
with perfume,
And for this, I tell you, her sins,
many as they are,
have been pardoned,
because she has loved greatly;
but one who has little pardoned,
loves but little."
Then he said to the woman,
"Your sins have. been pardoned."
The other guests began to say
to one another,
"Who is this man
who even pardons sins?"
But Jesus said to the woman,
"Your faith has delivered you;
go, and peace be with you"
(Luke 7:44-49)
Am I "the woman?"
Today, God is saying,
"Yes, my beloved,
you are the woman."
Lord let me receive
your love for me;
dissolve my resistance
to that love.
"Lord I believe; help my unbelief!!"
let me stand in that identity;
Yes, I STAND, affirm,
"I am the Salt"
evidence proves
that is true
I preserve the way
for those who
need the truth, life, way...
no congregation
no denomination affiliation
but I'm salt whose flow
is controlled
by a mighty Shaker
where it's needed to go
not in a place with a steeple
but for people
who need and somehow find
my micro ministry
enough for me
to me, it's holy, salty,
and pleases thee.

The Ark

this space refines,
forces me
to be free
of impurity
I do not want
to contaminate,
bring bacteria aboard
that might infect
others with my random
insecurity,
pettiness, jealousy,
cruelty

Holy One
reside here
FREE ME!
so that those who
walk in breathe in
safety
the chance to be
fully in their humanity
to express whatever is
knocking on their inner door
in sobriety
be it confusion,
delusions,
ecstasy,
pain, suffering
let this space be a laver,
a place to undress
and come clean
for all the animals,
all their personalities,
the snake, bear,
butterfly, queen bee...
walk out its doors
cleansed, humbled,
forgiven, fed,
unburdened
blessed,
connected, relieved,
accepted,
aligned with Thee.
So LORD I pray,
as a custodian here
to be in you
with you
for you
hold space for those
I've come to hold dear
whatever face,
gender,
shade,
whether awkward,
arrogant, or queer
let us all heal
and learn to help;

In You
we seek daily to believe.
Holy Spirit,
Spirit of Anonymity,
help us
nameless Holy One
that leads,
Thy will be done
sober and clean
no matter what happens
or how we feel,
what we think, say, or do.
Amen

"Mary said to Jesus:
"Whom are your disciples like?"
He said:
"They are like
little children who have settled in a field
that is not theirs.
When the owners of the field come, they will say,
'Give us back our field!"

But the children
will strip naked
in front of the owners
in order to abandon it,
so that the field is returned to them.

That is why I say:
"if the householder knows that a thief is coming,
he will keep watch
before he comes.
He will not let him
break into his house
and his estate to steal his possessions."

But you,
keep watch from the beginning of the world;
gird up your loins.
Ready yourself with a great power so that
the thieves do not find a way to get to you.
Because they will find
the necessities
which you guard.
Let there be a person of understanding among you.
When the grain ripened someone came quickly
with a sickle
and reaped it. "
Whoever has ears, hear!"
(Gospel of Thomas
Saying 21)

"Whom are Your Disciples Like?"

Freddy's Ark
is a house on Tonti
in New Orleans...
with no owner
though a name is on the deed;
some people
think that's just talk
to sound "spiritual"
but it's real
everything belongs to God!
Yes indeed!
We enter into a contract
at Step 3
"I offer myself to thee."
I'm not the owner
keeping watch over gold,
stuff that can be bought or sold...
but a disciple keeping watch
over healing scenes
narrated from outside time
stories unfolding, one day at a time...
my role?
to align
each morning
be at the ready
to shed schedule, clothes,
as my dad used to say,
"Stay on your toes"
lest attachment to any person,
place, thing, or stance
prevent agility in God's dance...
Dad was thinking of the next tennis ball
but my mind is set on how my feet fall
at each morning's entrance
and evening's final breath
in the Divine dance hall.
My Creator, I am now willing
to strip these clothes,
let them fall, one and all,
I pray that you now send me
bloody-butt naked as a babe at birth
so that others who need to get free,
see all that I am and be
is your Power, Love, and Way,
Is from THEE!

"Mary said to Jesus:
"Whom are your disciples like?"
He said:
"They are like
little children who have settled in a field
that is not theirs.
When the owners of the field come, they will say,
'Give us back our field!"

But the children
will strip naked
in front of the owners
in order to abandon it,
so that the field is returned to them.

"Ready yourself"

She dreamed
of crushing
my white tarantula
of burning down
the house
and I say, "Hallelujah!"
someone is listening
from outside time
to my inner climb
shedding that Snow-White mask
covering hairy-scary
gnarly judgements,
jealousies,
insecurities;
share, get free
with women who
"have ears, can hear!"
who understand white clothing,
white-wash,
white knights
may seem clean
but the true state of a soul is unseen
and when its a tarantula
the Owner heeds
to smash the spider
burn down the house
get free of that shit
no matter
how good it looks,
fine it smells,
soft is feels,
use that sixth sense
and pray for truth to be revealed
shed the chaff, be the wheat
get ready to be grain,
made into bread
that nourishes souls,
emPowers who's fed;
get ready for the day
all tarantulas, houses go away
and what is infinite, delicious, Good remains.
.

Prayer

Thy will be done, not mine.
Thy time be done, not mine.

A Talk with God

Couldn't sleep
coughing
coughing...

"Lord!
still sick
not holding up well,
am vanishing
shrinking
into a shell
of horrific negativity
where only You
help."

"Stay in truth
my love!
recovery
is not built from
bar bells,
push ups,
pep talks..
the fig tree
needs
the right fix
the gardener knows
and goes
to bring
what might bring fruit..
in that fourth year
sometimes you win,
sometimes you learn
the lesson of the fig tree
and remember
how I prune,
bring food,
see you,
am in tune...
in me, with me, for me,
you never ever ever lose.

You did well,
went into your inner room,
closed the door,
and prayed
in secret,
without babbling,
and I,
who see
in secret,
saw, heard, answered.

Legos

Saturday night
making Lego flowers
on the carpet
they sat
sorting
building
like long ago
at three and four
diapered
with
laughter
magic
sweetness
thank God
moment
I want to capture
in this poem.

Thank you God
for sisters
not "sacrificing"
not "trying" or "tolerant"
not "patient"

but just being,
loving,
in it,
with it,
awake,
one hundred percent.

Momma Hen

Momma
will not move
body shields
three chicks concealed
under puffed chest,
stretched breast
"I'm alone,"
she lies,
"No one but me."
cats prowl,
suspect
tip-toe paw
on sidewalk
mama's impenetrable
a fortress of feathers
and no chick peeps
no chick peeks
when one minute before
their voices
chit chattered
as momma claw-scattered
to uncover
yummy stuff
while still enough alert
heard
cats silent stalk...
whoosh!
she became a wall...

heed the hen!
momma's
gather your broods
assure they know the drill
since sure as neighbor cats,
entities in various forms, figures
seek moments
to attack.

"Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem
the city that kills the prophets
and stones those who are sent to it -
How often
would I have gathered your children together
as a hen gathers her brood under her wings."
-Matthew 23:37

Roots

the olive tree
went in the ground
took time,
months...
phew!
finally grew
pushed through
but so skinny
in this wind-whipped city...
and someone saw
its thin
and brought
a stake,
tied
her to it,
"now she won't break"
but Matt
had a different take
and shared
how young trees
need wind
for thick trunk
strong roots
deeper shoots
the loving stake?
best removed...
and the massive oaks
of New Orleans
came to mind
that have withstood
the wild
time after time...

their source
of strength?
not support stakes
but high winds
and hurricanes.

Hibiscus Tea

felt lonely
went for a walk
no vendors
on Bayou Road sidewalk
crossed Broad
took care not to step
on green stinging caterpillars
thought about going over
to Jazz Fest
to listen closer
but country west vibe
hit me wrong
like arabic music
in Jerusalem
N'awlins going for the big bucks
aging baby boomers
suck it up
shell it out
to relive-remember
like our family,
with Santana Thursdee..
took me back to 2004
in L.A. at front door
Bailey cut-loose
dance abandon
to Carlos car-radio loud
post Marisela's quinceañera
Margarita and Victor
parents so proud
and countless times
cranking his tunes
in the living room
to dance,
high from Laker victories,
celebration energy
return
return
back to N'awlins lonely
crossed the street
two neighbor girls
selling hibiscus iced tea
and three local folks
one walking the dog,
one waving at cars
"$20 to park!"
one doing what he always does...
porch hangin' just cuz
"And yeah I'll take som of that tea."
Deep deep red over ice
jut the right sweet
lost and I was found...
"Can I buy y'all a round?"
and everybody agreed
and the car parker with gold teeth
asked, "Is this good for me?
And we laughed and everyone
talked about Vitamin C
and unclogging arteries
and the girls collected 12 dollars
and thanked me
but
I know it was You
who turned lonely
to free
with the love
put into that hibiscus iced tea.

Missing

Step out
and there's Eddie-man
"hey Miss Robin"
with a litany
of jobs he's off to
women he's got to
cater to
their pick 6
current sick ness
and always talk
of Jeff
who likes his whiskey
steady and neat
keeps him safe
on Bourbon Street
mows his lawn
trims the trees
and whatever...
things always breaking
in New Orleans
always bout the next dime
never much time
on the moooove
but energy in a groove
yesterday
saw him at Sam and Rani's
he is delighted
found peace
2 years waited
for the place
his own place
new space
in ribbon-just-cut
senior housing
and Mr. Jeff
gave him 2 sixty-inch screens
and "happy"
grateful"
blessed"
just careen
from his soul
poured out
"a place of my own!
no woman - no -
you can't come in
this is mine
And Miss Robin
I didn't even want
to go outside"
and he beamed, gleamed,
eyes joy-bright
"So you won't be seeing me round
so much now
cuz I love inside
never knew
what I was missing..."
Eddie-man,
it's YOU
we WILL be missing.
For true.

Turbo Tax
The Yoruba say "A bell rings the loudest in your own house."

In my house a bell was ringing of
tax-time fear
financial stress
institutional oppress
"what does this mean?"
"what are they asking me?"
had given up completely
and asked for what Turbo Tax calls
"expert help"
scheduled for the day
after Easter
(which fell on
April twentieth,
twenty twenty five,
my sister and Hitler's birthday,
anniversary of Columbine...)
the twenty-first
at ten thirty
the phone rang
and the expert's energy
immediately sang
forth from the phone
he asked, "How was your weekend?"
and I spoke, "He rose
long ago and showed up yesterday."
"I'm also a Christian," he said,
"and am Yoruba.
My name is Oluwaseyi.
me, "What does your name mean?"
he, "God has done this."
Amen amen
I knew right then
God has to show me this again
and again and again
this is precisely where
i'm supposed to be
precisely what
we supposed to do
and I thought of
and thanked God for his mother
for her humility
for knowing her child is holy.
How many times daily does he say,
"my name is Oluwaseyi?'
remembers the miracle
of his birth, breath, beauty
though to me unseen
except for a voice and yellow rectangles
appearing on a shared screen
I felt her there
and he quickly decoded
what to me was a profound conundrum
and my taxes were done;
I gave to Caesar his due
and to God, all praise for "what he has done"
and continues to do.

Living Sober

Decades flown
hours and hours
with passing forward
the path to spark
shared with me,
flared
for free, for freedom
no strings
every day
phone rings
calendar sings
of a willing woman
who's called
at the perfect moment
to interupt "my" day
"my way"
with need
to connect.
this morning
5:45 as one beloved
prepares
to marry
(no champagne,
no "bubbly")
and I've been there
and not missed the high
for a moment;
and my man celebrated
the birth of two babes
without brandy
yes, with cigars
and that's far
from skid row
from that cheap motel
with DT's, jitters,
invisible skin critters,
certainty
of death
the terror of life
imprisoned by craving...
drink, obsessive think
so this sober life
has birthed a different
history
of unblocking life-streams
of women, men,
no longer "them"
but brethren
cuz we need each another
and I haven't seem
as many movies,
read as many books,
gone on as many trips
read as many editorials
as others
but I've been graced
to serve
the author of the spark
who wants to make
each life
His work of art.

Resurrection

Felt some kind of way
about being me
"irrelevant"
"no fun"
"kind of dumb"
after another mama
detailed so much
of interest
fires
heroes with hoses
details galore
held us engaged
on her stage;

got home
took time
to reread old letters
that made me weep
and freed me of
the self pity,
need
for attention
affirmation
went to sleep
to awaken to a text
on Resurrection Day
"I'd like to come to church today!"

my heart my heart!!
she came
with her black cane
3 weeks out of wheelchair
and black sting caterpillars
everywhere;
she stayed the whole way
through it all,
too-slow songs
too-many-words sermon
too-busy prayers

Delivery

Each Saturday
my turn to cook
tonight's menu
fish curry
family fave
palette of spices
brown beauties
cumin, turmeric,
Madras and a mild curry,
cinnamon, coriander
teaspoon of salt
simmered in oil
coconut milk and its cream
dissolved
into sauce
fish oil,
water
simmer long
add fish
and it's good
really good
last... some greens
bok choy leaves
and I'm listening
to a just-found good book
and am off
delivery just as the Fest
lets out
vibe of taxis
people waiting for Ubers,
pedi-cabs,
weaving speeding
blue and beach bikes
hungry festers
heading back to hotels
Air bnbs, homes,
and I'm doing my regular
Saturday delivery
after a day
of lonely
redeemed by
finding a good book
and I asked Maya
when I got there
"how was your day?"
and she seemed full of light
and spoke of lonely
and finding a good book
she could read
and the connection was deep
seemed like
we had the same day
internally
and she raved about the fish curry
and me amazed
at the way
God makes deliveries.