Only You

I am nothing. I am humble before you God. I am nothing. I have no talent beside what you have bestowed so graciously upon me. I have no inspiration apart from the touch of heaven you place on my lips. Even writing now I feel the foot of greed stepping slowly on to this page. I refuse to let it dwell here. I am a mere vessel; my purpose is to glorify my source and sustainer. What do I gain in a ghastly attempt to glorify myself? The lifting up of a garbage pile, the showy display of filth and wreak of stench for all to admire? Why would I want for my wretched nature to fly on a banner above me, proclaiming gross lies and constant failing? Banish my identity from the banner that flies over my head and reigns over my heart. I am…

No more I. Only You.

You hold my focus, my begging knees plead for Your holiness to fill my gaze evermore. Obliterate me, trample this pattern of daily mortal striving.

EXIST, REIGN, CONSUME, SWELL my heart with the cleansing blood of Your Son; beat your heart in my cavity for which it was crafted.

Triumph of Truth

Crow and Dove approach for battle

Perching pensive over plot

Thick, woody plot upholding

Fragile stick-like talons

Crow, black wit, betrayal

Manipulates his stance

Spreads wide and flaps his oily wings

Hovering over common ground

Steadfast Dove, plain as day

Remains fixed, her eyes in front

Softly whistling her unswayed theme

Troubling, piercing, crystal

Crow ascends in his show

Climbing the branch shrinks below

Dove whistles long and low

Deaf blind and mute, rise higher crow

Flaunt wide your unkempt wings

Above the rooted foe

Fly, embrace your invisible fate

White whistle, triumphant, still heard by all

My Black Suit

Plain, black and listless

Skin tight, standing by

My black suit hangs

Awaiting our next invitation

Perched in the closet

Leathered, zipped, dormant

Without my pulsing flesh

It sleeps

While opportunity draws near

I groom its shiny coat

Close the closet door, ignore it

Worship the long concealed charm

Abrupt arrival of night

He lurches off his pedestal

Possesses black my raw scrubbed skin

Without invitation my sin becomes me

The Idol

She sucks in her breath

Ribs like teeth with skinny venom

Bite the invisible flesh below

An indigestible meal

Taking years to shove down

Regret

            Shame

                        Torture

Devour vigor’s skeleton

A pallid worm left writhing

Kissing Natalia Vodianova’s feet

The mirrors vomited reflection

A glorious filthy idol cast in blood and bones

Possessions

Oh the beautiful perilous pursuit of the one who made me and wants me with burning passion. How could I withhold any part of myself from his consuming flame? In his hands he holds both sides of my face, commanding my attention, not letting anything else fill my gaze. Oh the pain of his grasp. How I long to look to the right or left, but his glory remains too ghastly to stray. How ugly my pale, colorless, shocked gape must appear in the luminescent rainbow of such wonder. How wretched I feel, unworthy of his undivided attention; yet still tempted to not return the same exclusive interest. What more could I long for but this brilliant man, this figure, blinding before me. 

I shall not look away, for the “beauty” I find beyond his face appears drastically drab and colorless now. In the dim light surrounding all apart from Him, what “beauty” can be found? I struggle to gather up belongings, plow through possessions; hoard in the storehouses of my heart the gold idols cast in frantic pursuit. The impossibility of stolen beauty; a fake tin barren wasteland. His warm, fleshy spirited body before me, and I yearn for the emptiness. 

What glory have I not yet tasted that causes me to yearn for anything apart from his ability to satisfy and quench the very thirst in my bones for beauty? What brilliance am I unaware, that love apart from his supernatural omniscience appears more suitable? 

Dismantle the shelves within my heart where I have stored up sticks, bricks and rags; the measly accumulation of dirt ashamedly weighs my spirit down. I sag and stagger behind, when pure nothingness is all you call me to possess. You hold my face and command my attention. Me, you say, I am what you long for.

Make You, your untainted beauty my sole desire.

Violent Monster

 

What gruesome appetite

Eludes in this present darkness

Consumes a vile plot of flesh

Sends breath plumes down my stomach

I listen, linger

Longer

Refuse to wander

For fear of falling behind

Clawing riddles my chest

Cradles my breast

Perfumes me in sweat

In this present darkness

Frantically gnaw the monsters neck

I scratch, bite

Match

His aggression

Blade braving shield

And wits undying

Passions battle; violence won

Winter, Summer, Spring

Naked chest

Sweatered in hair

Dressed by the scarf of my arm

 

Blankets cocoon

Baking our bodies

Drink my humid salty kiss

Despite the homely orchard

My chosen tree

Harvests incomparably plump apples