~Religion~

¿Would You Sup With Me?

2 April 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

I'm listening to Mozart's Requiem,
A day when a great mortal has passed far,
& I ponder your question of last meals,

The imagery of Christ with apostles,
The thought of a pontiff with a throat tube,
The passing of John Paul with Spring's breezes,

As the chorus sings soul's Lacrimosa,
I choose to spend my last meal with my love,
I choose to break bread and drink blood red wine,

To offer a prayer of deepest thanks,
For a moment shared in devotion true,
Sacrament of union of two beings,

Though to gray ashes all my flesh then falls,
Though to Hell's perdition I am banished,—
I supped with heart's mistress and thanked God's grace.​

 

Black Sea Flood

2 April 2005
San Antonio, Texas

merged in their duality they amble,
close together yet sex far apart weighs,
male & female both formed Creation's day,
now forever dissimilar wander,

through a building endless in its stairways,
with small windows build up high light allowed,
never panoramic vistas widened,
constrained rigidly to a maze He build,

unrecognizable its layout teems,
no map or compass or directions near,
but for faint reminder dim from deep past,
that flood once raged discontinuity,

man's history shards—fragmentary tales,
told naked by a fire while chilled at night,
now cryptic fables of a sacred book,
forgotten Babel and its gloried days.​

 

Thermodynamic Faith

20 April 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

Of Xanadu all that I know is daily bliss,

A sonnet playing lyrical to thrush's voice,

Among the 14 to the 30th Mozart,

Variations floating in ethered universe,

Where stars once radiant collapse absorbing all,

Our minds bloom through a thousand permutations strange,

Until we come to release brought on by love's Faith,

Without an opiate to guide us,—just our hearts.​

 

Life's Flux

24 April 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

death's oblivion grants endless respite,
denies us of consciousness of all spite,
yet i certainly don't long for a rite,
that marks all my being's no more wry sprite,

now's just ashes on a funeral pyre,
for though life presses & can often tire,
dead men can't conceive of being proud sire,
and dark grave corrupts even song's gold lyre,

so when i stare at beautiful church spires,
and see how humanity all aspires,
that life should go on—"soul never expires,"
and a church everything of ours acquires,

it becomes apparent that it's not trite,
that we should strive with all our heart's great might,
to hold on fast,—with every muscle tight,
to every little joy that life does light.​

 

Clear Day Dreams

2 May 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

angels live in that blue world's fay we make,

when dreaming about possibilities,

azure that still our heart unsure of love,

or purposes of life that are all short,

yet could be more than a brief sounding song,

if we could bring our souls to dwell with light,

in evanescent joys of sun delight,

or drift in quietude on ether's down,

while smiling at a fate that endless roams.​

 

Red Means

19 May 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

Incarnadine fair rainbow's outer edge,
Before man's eyes lose track of infrared,—
Big Bang radiation Doppler shifts down,
Allows us now to see all of night's stars—.

Rouge Her lips will someday smear carelessly,
With strawberry liniment candied kiss,
Driving cerise tongue through my beating heart,
As Cupid would with arrows pierce blood's flow—.

Pink of spring blooms matured into cherry,
Glossy,—vibrant,—resonating color,
Exciting pulse driving tumultuous,
A rose unfolding majesty through time—.

That drop of blood that burgundy is drunk,
With a clear prayer from our deepest soul,
Inspires us to go far beyond frail hopes,
Each moment, step-by-step, into God's love—.​

 

Ruby and Diamond—Amemptos

20 May 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

Forgiveness and forgetting twin gems,—
Ourselves and others,—memory's twine.

¡Dignity! Our hearts and souls decry,
Fate's inconstancy with random heart;

Yet, still in convulsions we learn to,
Walk on shores of possibility,—

Upon clear waters aquamarine,
Sun's splendor flowers in pink coral,
Cathedral beams undulate and sway,

Keeping rhythm susurrating wind,
Flitting all about,—diversity,
All commotion with life's purposes,

Never heeding yesterday's blue pain,
Always living today's yellow glow,
Sometimes seeking tomorrow's red love.​

 

There or Here,—Somewhere

23 May 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

¿Where's that fair abode where red heart can live?
Wide windows open to gaze God's divine,—
Roof that bears life's beating hailstorms lightly,
For it has permanence of life's deep love,—

¿Where is that home where clear soul can safe dwell?
Strong walls protect from elemental forms,—
While insulating from sharp heat or cold,
For it has permanence of life's bright fay,—

¿Where is that hut with basic formation?
Thatch and wattle with some mud patched sturdy,—
Simplicity that grants mind clarity,
For it has permanence of nature's form,—

¿Where is that land with gardens of repose?
That temporary our foundation sits,
So we can tend our orchids every day,
And offer momentary flowers sweet.​

 

Uplifted Sacrament

23 May 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

May Thy chalice blessed be with life's Love,
With a wine that mellow soothes soul's travails,
In prayers soft and gentle echoing,

Resounding through cathedral colonnades,
Commingled voices pitched in harmony,
So throat's chant and wish become holy song,

Uplifting gaze realities unseen,
That life would have beset reality,
But on white altar only stained glass glows,

Complex colorations showing true Faith,
Divine inspirations carrying heart,
Far beyond stone structures or silver cups.​

 

Afternoon Swim

3 June 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

Somewhere between left and right stroke,
In a swirl of rippling golden sunlight,—
Someplace that doubts and critics left,
Immersed in water's noisy realm surround,—

My moment's gaze was left awry,
I lost perspicacious insistence strong,—
My mind found bliss enchanting fey,
I cast my worries into time's domain,—

For in that motion repeating,
While heart pulsed and cleared all of day's sad grays,—
Forgiving my failed believing,
With a song swooshing lovingly in heart,—

All of my chemistry restored to peace,—
And everything I want fulfilled,
All that there is,—"Let go, and then let God,"—
And nothing that should worry soul.​

 

A Carpenter Once Taught

4 July 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

The wisest teachers,
Hold up a mirror,
Where soul can glance self,—

Elusive elf that wanders and panders,
Wastrel of time's divinity finite,
In a temple full of treasures unseen,—

Thus self comes to know,
The flurries of life,—
The Glories of God.​

 

He Slaked My Thirst

6 August 2005

Corpus Christi, Texas

I paused at a sweet well and drank my fill,—
A pauper tended to this resting place,
With eyes awash all white in blindness dwelt,
Though deep perception still remained awake,—

He said, "Water will not your thirst quite quench,
When wonder you so far from all that's known,
In search of things elusive and forlorn,
You've wandered all your lifetime always lost,—

There is a place not far from where heart lives,
That you will find that love you avid seek,
If you will only give me token faith,
Even I—a blind man—can show the way."​

 

myno

9 August 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

She would have loved anonymous all life,
Til in a moment she revealed herself,
Only a tiny bit you say it was,
But questions opened then up endlessly,
So what was once free now became a veil,—

¿O,—what's love that can't believe who we are,—
That demons haunt even an angel's soul?
¿That what can seem so normal everyday,—
Is but a semblance of dark life inside?
¿Is God the only being we can tell?

¿Where is acceptance of our tortured ways?
¿Must every pine,—erect and straight rise up?
¿What of whirl's gnarls and twists that storms set forth?
¿When all life's rings are counted spherical,—
Will those strange convolutions be dismissed?

I can't pretend to sure answers true know,
Or even how delusion remedy,—
I have so many troubles of my own,
That in my meditation soft oft do,—
Is in a trance chant say,—"Our Father,—Who,— …"​

 

Yet For the Taking

20 August 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

On edge life slips on shards of ice,
No contemplation seems alive,
Though minstrels busy as a hive,
Proclaim that soul sees but poor slice,—

O,—but to live among such mice,
With hearts that have nothing that I've,
As if Heaven was Sunday drive,
Not something that rolled off God's dice,—

O little man look at your vice,
For those meager perks you so strive,
Til nothing blessed can survive,
Tell me,—this,—you'll deny just thrice,

For you thought ordained paradise,
A pleasure that would soon arrive,
So constantly you did connive,
Yet dying,—entombed in gray gneiss.​

 

Strange Bloom

26 August 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

At that point when nothing pricks surprises,
When balloon wild expectations don't pop,—
For inside there's just an even sun glow,
Shining yellow even though there's rain clouds,—

When not even life's most golden prizes,
Make soul's composure want to sudden drop,—
For nothing others can say makes heart low,
Or seems to bring to eyes unhappy shrouds,—

In that happy state nothing seems crisis,
And steadiness comes without quick flip-flop,—
While blessed peace seems to just overflow,
Even though violent thunderstorm beclouds,—

In that hallowed malachite temple green,
All our dreams surrounded by God's blessings,—
Now that faith's little mustard seed has bloomed,—
We can feel life's briefness and its beauty.​

 

New Moon Sky

2 September 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

(9-8-10,—9-8-10,—…)

I walked out into a clear night sky,
When meteors where streaking forth,
A fiery end to journey long traversed,—
Something that reminded me of death,
With white lace of small pin-point lights,
Lingering a bit in soft finery,—

¿How can soul realize reasons why?
Life brings nothing we abhorr'th,
Even though disagreement was conversed,—
And much bitterness was in our breath,
Yet God brings us glorious sights,
Draughts of purple joy from his winery,—

From so much activity now shy,
Old age so little deploreth,
While of love only a prayer preserved,—
Red heart still beats and marveleth,
At not having stepped inside life's bights,
Yet having dwelt in life's whigmaleery.​

 

Imagine Man a God

3 September 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

O no,—place not upon the victim sin,
No god of mercy would destroy on whim,—
Omniscient,—all would forgiven be.

It is man's cruelty to devise fault,
And heap it high on those who trodden lay,
And what more evil than to think man's lot,
Is planned by beings full of power lust,
That arbitrary flaunt and torture us,—

O no,—to those that suffer don't ascribe,
Conditions that could justify cruelty,
Enough fate's harshness to abide in time,
Without creating motives for men's fall.​

 

Sufi Dreams

4 September 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

¡Ah,—Tender time,—!

Thou art so courteous,
To Never disregard,
Thy tender ministrations,—
Styptic for red heart.

¡Ah,—Silent time,—!

Thou,—Softly slipping gaze,
That soothes soul's ragged days,
Thy memories pale yellow,—
Dry parchment in red heart.

¡Ah,—Flowing time,—!

Thou,—Restless traveler,
Thy steps a ceaseless stream,
A courtesy of kisses,—
Embedded in moonlight.

¡O endless time,—!

Thou,—Godhead immortal,
Whirlpool of infinite,
I,—moth,—stream to Thy bright flame,—
A valley,—echoing.​

 

Surety

29 September 2005
College Station, Texas

Beyond all recompense there lies a land,
So few have ever visited,—For fear
Has whole dominion o'er their brief lives,
So never could a moment's freedom bring,
The time to set a course for this strange land,—

So different from most things men dream of,
A place where only inward dreams are filled,
No glitter shines to goals external made,
And here no flimsy edifice will fall,
When first fierce storms strike up strong wintry winds,

No,—all that's built here,—hidden's meant to last,
Through travails and shortcomings and deep doubt,
For only things that soul can carry forth,
A burden light and constant throughout life,—
This then's the gift that thought or prayer brings.​

 

Black Night

22 October 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

It's been near fourscore years since on North Pole,
Inspired by endless midnight,—Genesis,
I read from a black sub's conning tower,

As orange sun split gray dark snowfields wide,
From vast night's gem sparkling cacophony,
Cracking ice and creaking crevices noised,
Uncanny symphony of dispersed songs,

As strong winds blew their tundra cold refrain,—
I felt that old words of creation would,
Fit raw chaos indifferent to man,

Older than Mars and Venus,—true prime source,
With no necessity to worship ask,
Or fawning from a mortal e'er desire,—
Weird energy of time's beginning day.​