Category: Poetry

Water on a Clean Slate

I found something
That can change old to new
I found something
That can restore and redo

You’ve captured, covered, cleansed, and redefined
You’ve healed what I did not know was broken
You straightened what I did not know was lame
Washing away all my sins
Like water on a clean slate

Nothing in my life stays the same with You, Lord
You’ll change black to white if I’ll but let you
You’ll change night to day
Washing away all my sins
Like water on a clean slate

Can a leopard change his spots?
Can a tiger change his stripes?
I can’t change my ways, oh Lord,
But You can change my life!
Wahin’ away my sins
Like water on a clean slate

Tainted Wine

I had some wine the other day
And ooh the stuff was rank
Of flavor, full and round and red:
Of alcohol, it stank.

It burned my lips and tongue
Yet warmed me nonetheless
And in my memory of tasting it:
I liked the aftertaste the best.

I tried to drink it seven ways
Sugared, watered down, and plain
And choking, wat’ry eyed,
At last, the open bottle down I laid.

The uncorked bottle filled the house
With it’s alcoholic dew
Until my roommate, in his wisdom
Made a cap aluminum.

Three days later, I made again
A last ditch, whole heart attempt
But refrigeration, or open air
Had rotted it to vinaigrette.

I poured out the bottle and the glass
And let the water behind it fly
And still people wonder, when they ask
Why I’m forever dry!

Solomon Song

I will rise up from my bed
dressed with myhrrs and aloes
I will seek my lover’s head
In the middle of the night

I will seek you in the streets
I will cry out for my lover
I will sing my song of longing
“Has anyone seen my brother?”

I will sleep lightly on my bed
waiting for the daylight’s warning
I will be ready for you when you come
For your mercies—find me—every—morning

Wild Eyed Man

I saw a wild eyed man
Chained between two posts
And his teeth were in his hair

As I walked by him
He screamed at me
He didn’t understand

On his left hand were two watchmen
On his right hand stood a chair
And then he stopped and looked at me
There were tears in his beard

“Why have they chained me?
What sin have I done?!
The table isn’t empty
But there is only room for one.”

The watchmen turned to me and said
“Sir we would set him free
But he will not let us near
A table has been prepared for him
Here you see the chair.

No one here has bound him
There is no physical restraint
But his own mind contains him
Self-condemnation makes him feint.”

I turned to the man again
And he roared at me!
“Do not come at me with your tormentations!
I will not hear your lies!”
Yet he did not try to fight me
When I looked into his eyes.

I put my hands up on his arms
(They passed right through the chains)
And as he shirked from me I said to him
“Sir, your chains are gone.”