Never Enough

This poem is a reflection upon a year I spent with a close relative while he deeply struggled with alcoholism. Praise God that the battle is getting better for this loved one.

Never Enough

He never knew when it was enough
When it was enough,
Never could fully drown his fear
Trying to make his demons disappear
Quickly aging beyond his year;
He never knew when it was enough
When it was enough,
Never could fully master his fear
Trying to make the past disappear
Rapidly dying year after year;
He never knew when it was enough
When it was enough,
Vodka couldn't wipe his slate clear
Never could heal his tear
Never could abort his fear;
It was never enough,
Never enough.

Structures Don't Lie

This poem is not about any person or thought system in particular. It primarily flows from the danger of a stoic rationalism. It is a reminder that the world is deeply personal.

Structures Don't Lie

You always want to be logical, so methodical,
And you say: "Structures don't lie.
No, structures don't lie."
But they do sometimes
Yes, they do sometimes.

You claim that I am cynical, so impractical,
Emotions are clearly illogical,
But your rational is cold, so impersonal,
And structures lie sometimes,
Yes, they do sometimes.

Match Makers

Match Makers

They are...
The feminine felines of flirtation
The scheming sisters of situations
The dazzlingly deities of dates
The gossiping gals of gold
The delicate Danes of diamonds
The maternal masters of matrimony.

Wisdom

This is one of my favorite poems that I have written. In many ways it encapsulates what I have only tried to say in other poems. The poem is highly influenced by the wisdom literature of the Old Testament, the writings of T.S. Eliot, and the writings of Augustine. I directly refer to Eliot's "Waste Land" and "Hollow Men" in the poem. I personally believe Eliot's writing to have been prophetic, and that the decay of society which he saw in embryonic form has now grown mature. The poem's form and flow is also highly influenced by Eliot's writing. Augustine's main influence comes from his "Confessions" in which he articulated through his personal experience how the human soul is restless until it rests in God. The wisdom literature of the Old Testament is intertwined throughout the poem. The references to the "market place" and the "army base" towards the end of the poem are intentional. These are two sectors of society that have severely lacked wisdom in our recent past. Overall the poem is a reflection upon wisdom. Wisdom is clearly lacking in our time. Godliness is also lacking, and there is clearly a direct connection between the lack of wisdom and the lack of godliness. For wisdom comes from God. The latter half of the poem may seem preachy, but then again I am a preacher. God bless and I hope you enjoy the poem.

Wisdom

“My son, if you will receive my words
And treasure my commandments within you,
Make your ear attentive to wisdom,
Incline your heart to understanding;
If you seek her as silver
And search for her as for hidden treasure;
Then you will discern the fear of the Lord
And discover the knowledge of God.
For the Lord gives wisdom;
From his mouth come knowledge and understanding.”
Proverbs 2:1-6

Wisdom does not come with age
The white beard does not distinguish the sage,
I have met freckled-faced females who speak
With the righteous humility of the meek,
I have seen fat farmers go out to plant
Having been educated by the ant,
I have known childish old men who fall by foolishness
The devil wielding ancient tricks of wickedness.
Wisdom does not come with years passed
But rather by reflecting on what lasts,
So if Socrates' questions still haunt us
Then Western society needs to confess
That humans have not really seen change
We live, we die, it has always been the same,
Yet wisdom cries out
And there are grave reasons to doubt
Than any sage of this age
Could know the mind and will of God.
Wisdom does not come with years passed
Collecting, building in its mass
No, it is given and it is searched for
By the affluent and the poor
By the strong and the weak
By the young and the old
Whoever has ears to hear, it speaks;
And yes our hearts are restless, running about
Our minds will not sit still to hear wisdom's shout
We are restless, restless indeed
For we have refused to rest in Thee.
Perhaps wisdom is becoming extinct
Like dinosaurs and ladies' fur minks,
Perhaps we live in a drought of knowledge
Yet, so many have gone to college!
Wisdom still cries out in the streets
Sometimes in the form of hip-hop beats,
Sometimes from the mouth
Of the pompous elites.
For this is our desert, our waste land
Our war is not against fascism or the iron hand,
But against the daily numbing of the man.
Have we truly become hollow men?
Does that now define our time?
Oh vanity, vanity, vanity
Vanity on the T.V. screen
Vanity in every scene.
Wisdom does not come with years passed
Our days are difficult from first to last,
So fear the Lord you young
And fear the Lord you old
Listen to ancient songs be sung
And depart from the fool's fold;
Turn, turn, turn back
To your Sunday School lessons
And prepare your confessions,
Do not be swept away by the world's season
Be it Renaissance, Modern or Post
Each is a vapor giving way to another
With little or nothing to boast.
Wisdom screams in our ears
Being stopped by our ceaseless noise
Drowning out our spiritual fears
There are few men, but many boys.
Wisdom return to this land
Breathe upon our faces
Take us by the hand
And slow our violent paces,
Return us to your rhythm and flow
Of the harvest and the snow,
Bind your word in our heart
Shine your light in our dark.
Wisdom return to your people
Be they in or out of the steeple
Return to them in the market place
Return to them in the army base,
Let the young and old meditate on your word
For in it is eternal wisdom.

Mr. Eliot the Clerk

Mr. Eliot the Clerk

A poet, a bank clerk
A prophet, a dork,
Speaking for a generation
Concerning it's degradation,
In so many ways
And for so many days,
Nine to five
Staying Alive,
Saying wanted so many
Wanted to say,
Working for bills
Like them, everyday,
Radical Square
English American
Prufrock Incarnate
Tennyson Modern,
If you can follow me
Then you will see,
That Mr. Eliot was
A poet and a bank clerk
A prophet and a dork.

My Mornings With You

My Mornings with You

I have known soft mornings,
Touching soft, fair skin,
The sun gleaming through trees,
Violets and pinks filling the sky,
The earth slowly waking,
With birds softly singing;

I have known soft mornings,
With dew glistening on grass,
Whispers coming from pillows,
The taking of long, slow breathes,
The rubbing of our eyes,
With birds softly singing.

The Wanting Poet

The Wanting Poet

If I could have any gifting,
Any gifting at all,
It would be to make words stand,
Words stand tall;
To make the perfect observation,
And to create the keen situation;
To bring life with my pen,
And to write without sin.