Before That

The morning arrives on the heels of the night.
The leaves emerge green and the tides ebb and flow,
and yet before that You were there
and You whispered the world into existence
Oh God, You're awesome, You're amazing, You're everything
Jesus, You're savior, You're Father, You're everything
The verdict arrived on the heels of my crimes,
I was sentenced to die, I had no hope for my life,
and yet there is grace, You took my place
Upon the cross, my sins were washed away
Oh God, You're awesome, You're amazing, You're everything
Jesus, You're savior, You're Father, You're everything.

SHARPIE

we write all these things in black sharpie/thinking they might carry more meaning/their thick black lines scrawl across the page/and the countertop beneath repeats what each word says/cause it bleeds through/like a band-aid on a severe head wound./when you read, you have to believe/these fat-walled words you can from afar yet still see./my fingers are stained with ink/and no matter how much I wash this damned spot,/it won't shrink,/and like Ms. MacBeth, I'm a bit concerned,you might say I'm about ready to freak,/but forgiveness is written on the page and has/bled onto the counter beside this kitchen sink.

Fight.

Man if I had like a thousand eyes,
like a fly,
I'd try to spy on all sides at the same time.
I'd not be surprised,
and I'd lead a well-protected life.
Your very best disguise
would not/could not escape my thousand eyes,
and I'd fight you like Mike Tyson circa 1985.
I would not lie down, I'd fight,
and through God, by God, I'd survive.

(You son of the dark one,
you'd tempt us/me to swallow a gun,
metaphorically or literally, either one,
as long as a fighter fighting for the other side is done.)


So I strap on my armor,
request protection from my Father,
but if He decides to to provide,
I inform Jesus Christ that I'll
soon be happily standing in awe by His side.

Getting Older

My core muscles are made of sandwiches and Joe runs through my veins,
amok through my brain,
and my peripheral nervous system feels tingly like something might bite me on the hand
like Peter Parker before becoming Spiderman.
My oh my, this diet soda's aspartame must be leaving deposits in my brain
like as if it was a bank,
like as if it was on the corner since you lived there and was waiting for you to return
but you found a job in Baltimore so you don't.
You just occasionally make a trip home
for Spanish Rice and chicken rolls
and the sanwiches you eat at work sure were a sign
you're not 28 anymore, by God, you're 29.