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The TornadoThe
TornadoThe TornadoThe Tor
nadoThe
Tornado The tornado writhed in
anguish and anger and no
matter wh
at she did it
wouldn’t go away so
she tried Pepto-Bismal but st
ill he was there ice cream
sounds good for you kno
w these summer days
the low fronts and
heat you are lic
king my toes
oh that is
gross
sur
prised
to see a
shoe-shine st
ill around these p
arts of the play this w
hole town is a stage coach
petti-coat juncture no I don’t th
ink this is a tornado an hour glass of
water is fine $10 by 5:00 tomorrow or t
he tornado begins again. TheTornadoTheTo
rnadoThe TornadoThe TornadoThe TornadoThe
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The Lobster
(the
‘Bruce’ here is Bruce Main)
Deer Bruce,
Some lobster sez he wants two
take off
his read armor and run around down their at
the bottom of the see, butt; he’s afrayed you
mite sea him an he says the last lobster that
did it won a ewe humans eight hymn write up
butt likes eye tells him, sea, eye nose you
aint no type a person to eight up a pour ol
lobster cause you no a mahn rips what he
sews; specially won who would stoop sow lo,
write? Sow then eye thinks four a second and
asks the lobster, "Weight, won’t it bee cold
four ewe down their? Won’t ewe frees your
little read self if’n you lie down their four
Moor than sicks minutes? "Maybe" he replied,
"Butt I’ve been Hyden inn hear all my life; I
ain’t sew Jung know moe either, an once ewe
start to due something it’s hard too take it
Bach, or at lease that’s what my ant told me".
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Thom
2-4-93, Upland; about Thom
Mazak
Thom is
talking
in his sleep again
there were not enough
moments in his day
for his mind to give
forth all he had to say
Now he lies upon his back
and words come forth to
me on the top bunk
Maybe someday his
dreams will come forth
and return everything he
has entrusted to
them; every secret
he has shared with
them in the night
But right now
I just wish he’d shut up.
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Night of the Living Dead
(Jan
or Feb ’95)
With all these corpses in my
house
you may ask why I remain
and I’m somewhat ashamed
to tell you
I guess we didn’t see it
coming
--it found us just the same
It’s like the darkness
that’s inside of you
that no one else sees
but it’s still there
We are them, they are us
we are all one in the same;
zombies who stalk the night
in search of life
What we find we devour
what we touch we corrupt
and it becomes as we are
prey to it’s desire
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It Looks Back
It has been said that when you
look into the
Darkness it sometimes looks back at you
And I can tell you that it
doesn’t matter if
you were only taking a quick glance or if you
meant to look or not; for the Darkness knows no
partiality
At that point you must hold
on; it may appear
as though the Night was always within you,
you might wonder if you ever knew the Light
at all
You could be bitten or devoured, slapped or
punched, with the wind knocked out of you or
left for dead, but one thing is certain; you
will survive
The Abyss, and the evil
therein, may seem
triumphant, but remember, it’s powers are
limited over those who believe in the Light
The Evil preys on fears and
fuels all doubts;
it chains the necks of the innocent so they
cannot turn and look when they hear Hope calling
Sins are gathered by the
handfuls and smeared
in the faces of these would-be slaves
In short, Oppression has it’s fill of
destruction and yearns for more
But the Light is no proprietor
of injustice,
and though the night be long with dense gloom,
Sun’s beams and rays will pronounce truth that
dispells the Darkness and returns warmth to the
battered soul
(Thank you Doug; you help me
see the Light when I can’t, 3-31-95.)
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Reverb
Hey Matt I’d love to
just dive into a big tank
of reverb and drown for days singing all
them melonbroccoli songs that make you so
saded I know there was a time when I didn’t
like reverb at all that was my pure and raw
phase but now I like it to sound
like I’m in
that gym in South Dakota singing all alone
and thinking of those women I left behind
wondering if they kept the pictures I drew
them of if they use the backs of them for
phone messeges but I’m not really thinking
that so I don’t know which
psychic hot-line
you’ve
been calling but there’s the real fakes
and then there’s the fake ones and besides
everytime we play Monopoly you always
want to be the little dog which leaves me
with the race car going, oh, maybe 60 beats
per minute (if even that fast) an right now I
don’t think I’d get tireded of that at all unless
I was on I-57 in the VW with my lead foot do
you why I stopped you no sir why did
you stop me don’t know ociffer how fast was
I going what’s the hurry no hurry mean to tell
me you were speeding thru my town without
a reason well I’m a’ gonna give you a warning
son but next time go easy on the reverb.
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Save Me Soon
(Feb
or Mar of ’95)
You can’t answer their
questions directly
and my head rests on my hand
as I ponder
how will it arrive on their platter
this time
this time
Salomae wants something like she saw
in the designer book
Judas keeps his ear to the ground
I lift up my hands for a cure
I know it takes time
and I know I’m not
Jesus
save me soon
save me soon
I get nervous
I tell lies
I don’t react too fast
I’m up, I’m down, all over the place
But I know there’s a heart in there
somewhere
the healing is coming and I will be
redeemed
there is hope
and I will not be numb
peace be with you
and also with you
salvation comes by the name (no
other)
Jesus
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Tabitha
Tabitha asked me
(in that soft mellow voice
of hers),
"Would you like to come
to the park
with us? We’re going
swinging";
she completed her invitation
with a warm smile.
I answered "No thank
you",
because, as usual,
I was all wrapped up
in pursuing some other
who turned out to be no good
for me.
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Hope
Spring ‘95
I will find you
I know you’re there
because I’ve seen you before
I must’ve let go
It’s not the first time it’s happened
but I pray it’s the last
Come and take me
lift me off the earth
keep me on the earth
sustain your presence,
now and forevermore
When you see me smiling
you will know I’ve found her
she gives me joy
she drives my dreams
she is the power of life
If only I could give her to
you…
but I can’t
not if you won’t take her
Listen, I know we’re all
fake and jaded;
we know too much,
feel too little,
scars from the past, etc.
I know I know
But, if you spend a day with
her
walk in her park
romp on her playground
drink from her fountain
Then, I am sure
that you
would speak
her name
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Accountability
That’s a pretty smile, my
dear
When your mouth turns up from
ear to ear
Your eyes shine like the
morning star
O did you know how sweet you
are?
That’s such a lovely voice,
dear child
So soft and quiet, gentle;
mild
It sounds like music in my
ears
It calms my soul; dispels my
fears
And if I don’t stop writing
stuff like this
McLaughlin and Davidson are
gonna
kick my butt
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There Is A Rhythm
July ’85, for an
assignment at Parkland Collage;
a Tanka (A type of Haiku; 5-7-5-7-7).
There is a rhythm
I see it all around me
but it is more feeling
buildings are incongruous
tree leaves rustle in the breeze
Nature is singing
futile is my endeavor
to translate her song
but peaceful moments
sacred they are meant to be
Joy to be a part
fear of growing old in heart
an oxoymoryon
howl O wind with solemness
I hear creation groaning
Just a few more days
then we’ll know as we are known
and understand why
I must be a good workman
I must find myself approved
There is an order
See the beauty of the sky?
Feel the gentle rain?
Look at all creation sing
now go look in the mirror
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Write
You know you’d better write
somethin’ girl
of you gonna die
Won’t
you?
Write you a song or poem
abstract or regular
free verse, closed verse, unleaded, diesel
whatever
You just gotta write
Don’t you?
What if we took your pen away
what would you say?
What if we took that paper from you
what would you do?
Emulate your creator baby
go on
shine
oh, here’s your pen back
The One Who’s Gone
For Jenafer, 4-19-94
The earth has opened up and
swallowed her whole
The monster has appeared from out of the sea
The sky is shattered the clouds fell down
She’s gone and you’re alone
Who’s gonna stop and listen
to you cry
Time is money’
The pace won’t stop
We’ve all got our precious little
petty little things
to do
sick
Step off this unmerry
go
wrong
Don’t you understand
Could you display some sympathy?
(everyone is so invincible)
Bricks fall down and they
don’t feel good
We’ve all got these stupid little
selfish little
dreams
undone
what about the one who’s
gone?
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Incident at Medjugorje
(July 31,’93)
Where do we go from here?
We know what we’ve seen
We’ve been up on a mountain
and now we descend
There are some who don’t
believe us
and others forget too soon
But we’ll always have each other
won’t we?
Promise you won’t forget
Don’t forget the things we
heard
Things we saw with children’s eyes
Time will make us cold in heart
that’s the thing I fear
I still can’t believe it
was us you came to see
I know I’m just an ordinary girl
Sometimes I think that my task is too hard
But then I find courage when I remember
your eyes
I remember all the things
that you taught me
and I know that you have
not left me alone
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Lay It Down
Jan. 10, ‘93/Upland, IN
Sometimes I think about
Jesus
the way they beat him so bad
he was bleeding all over his body
He could barely walk
and they made him carry his cross
until he couldn’t carry his cross anymore
Nails through the hands
a spike through the feet
a crown of thorns on his head
His mother cries while he hangs there
--was this some kind of mistake?
He didn’t do anything
wrong
Why must we fear what we don’t understand
He did so much good
He gave so much love
For this a man is made to die?
He gave all that life
yet you took his from him
you took it away
you took it away
"I am the good
shepherd; the good
shepherd lays down his life for the
sheep…No one has taken it away from
me, but I lay it down on my own
initiative. I have authority to lay it
down, and I have authority to take it up
again" (The Gospel of St. John
10:11, 18).
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