Category: Writing

  • Choose

    Choose

    Two paths to takeWhich do you choosethe one that everyone saysis right for you. It leads straighttrue, to security, where you neverworry about clothes or food. A homeyou will surely have three bedrooms andtwo baths. Spend your time commuting, lost timeBut what does it do to your heart, your soul? Do you wantthe life others…

  • Reach

    Reach

    One must have a mind of winterto grow old. I refuse. My mind isof sunshine and laughter, fantasyand fate. I reach for the unknownthough my body aches. My soulflies with my dreams, still to berealized. I listen not to those thatsay, why, aren’t you too old.I reach for the unknownthough my hair is turning grey.it…

  • A CRITIQUE OF SONNETS

    A CRITIQUE OF SONNETS

    Shakespeare, you’re your own jester, or a poor counselor. Love bends constantly, or it snaps like sugar in the canebrake, bows each day in these marshy thickets domesticated by decree, springing tensile, erasing from memory all the stray words, slights to that fragile and faulty soldered daily repair that improves each day the grievances it…

  • NO ATTORNEY, JUDGE, OR JURY NEEDED

    NO ATTORNEY, JUDGE, OR JURY NEEDED

    I never heard of herI never met her in my lifeShe’s confusing me with someone elseI was never ever in that hotel/city/countryShe is not my typeShe is lyingFlat-out lyingShe has a historyOf prostitutionThis is nothing but extortionShe is after my moneyThis is all a sick jokeAnd besidesShe is not my type

  • The Porchlight

    The Porchlight

    Being mortal, death stalks us like a silent shadow during the day and rests under our beds at night. Like a lamb sleeping with a freshly fed lion, we become acclimated to the beast’s mercy. As years pass, doom becomes uneasy and hungers for us. There are critical epiphanies, before death finally feasts upon our…

  • Ardent Spirit

    Ardent Spirit

    This afternoon I’ll help my friend’s dog dieA malamute, husky, shepherd mix she named Sky.I met him first in the high desert 10 years agoHis shift from stray to pet was rocky and slow.He jumped the fence to roam the brushChasing jackrabbits under stars’ milky hush.Dogs who run every moment risk deathBut those who do,…

  • i am

    i am

    i am lost but i do not know to whom i belonged i am alone but i do not know to whom i can call i am unsure but i do not know to whom it would be certain as to why i cannot exist in happiness for longer than the drops of hatred sprinkle…

  • Seventh Heaven

    Seventh Heaven

    The October colors of the sugar maple trees along the sidewalk flickered in the slight breeze. Maples did not do well in the Phoenix climate, but that did not matter. These trees were artificial. It would take a close examination by an arborist to tell the trees were an imitation. In fact, many people preferred…

  • River’s Branches

    River’s Branches

    I see the child plunge into the swift streamnear the river bank where I am standing.  It swims beautiful butterfly strokes and  free strokes. The river carries in its imagesmy recollections of the river from the citywhich I was many times familiar with duringmy child hood. Barges, and ferries loadedwith hucksters, office workers, soldiers, students,factory…

  • Similitude

    Similitude

    I beat him endlessly, the man whoonce expressed his sexual interestsin my body when I was nine, andcontinued to do it steadily. He followedme many times, and sneaked into my earssome words uncomfortable to hear.He was half-awaked and half-dreaming,lunatic man whose insanity many ofmy relatives had mentioned of. But then,I became careless toward his actions…

  • George MacDonald Universalism against Hans Urs von Balthasar on Universal Salvation

    George MacDonald Universalism against Hans Urs von Balthasar on Universal Salvation

    Many a wrong, and its curing song; Many a road, and many an inn; Room to roam, but only one home For all the world to win. (Eve, in MacDonald’s Lilith) I want to put two eschatologies in conversation, that of Hans Urs von Balthasar on Universal Salvation and that of George MacDonald Universalism. The…

  • Dusk’s Heart

    Dusk’s Heart

    Gilded soft lightBrooding hueIllumine the trails to the entrailsOf heart, hearth, a life’s wombNothing more lucid than duskNothing pellucid but truthSoft on the eyesSoft on the soulSoft on the universe’s wombWarm dark gentle welcoming tombBrisk wintry evenfall, moon’s soft glowAxe at the root, trunk on the snowBreath by the earRaging peace in the gloamRove we…