Pantoum (Untitled)

An assignment inspired by the Human Rights art exhibit at the Claude Pepper Center:

Fire truck red as the siren's glare
when the eye perceives lime most readily
the patriot's red, we stole with defiance
Why have we always conformed?

Orange is the shade of humid air
fire truck red as the siren's glare
orange is the shade of stagnant sand
when the eye perceives lime most readily

Humans marching toward orange
orange is the shade of humid air
drawn by the pheromones of a cosmic queen
orange is the shade of stagnant sand

Our minds are molded, constrained before me know
humans marching toward orange
and blister-footed children cry out
drawn by the pheromones of a cosmic queen

And smooth-skinned boys are camouflaged as men
our minds are molded, constrained before we know
red eyes, red blood, Red Flag
and blister-footed children cry out

And smooth-skinned boys are camouflaged as men
the patriot's red, we stole with defiance
and blister-footed children cry out
Fire truck red as a siren's glare.

I'm thankful for...

The clear blue of the Tallahassee sky.
A breezy, 65 degrees.
FSU maintenance staff who revel in what they understand as progress in American politics.
Starbucks sweetened, iced coffee (it's delicious; you should try it).
Letting go of petty regrets. All regrets are kind of petty in the long run.
Leftovers from TGI Fridays.
The way the sun shines through my movie posters plastered to Rogers' giant windows.
Poetry.
The ability to pray.
My yellow keds.

"O send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling. Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy; and I will praise you with the harp, O God, my God. Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God." - Psalm 43:3-5

Butterfly

The delicate
hollows of her skeleton
exhale an untainted beauty
as this southern cold front
traces ripples onto
spotted wings;
she obeys her fate,
to direct eyes wearied by
the bloodshot of modern monotony
to the perfect imperfection of
scented flowers,
but in the flurry of her anxious
dance
she takes the magic
she possesses, she touches,
for granted.

Two Day Variance

Poems I wrote on Tuesday and Thursday last week. The weather provided quite the contrast:

Up before the sun
has tossed away his sheets
Awake as the day
climbs Tallahassee hills,
its muscles aching
in the dry chill of early
Fall,
Open eyes and thirsty ears
Absorbing the bird-song green
of morning.


The world is dim today
and I ponder the contrast
between the green fragrance of sunlit grass
and this earth enveloped in gray.

Because at the Beach

Because God personifies
glory
we revel in the sting
of sand
on our feet
Because he chose the
blustery scattering
of salt wind and
fall sea
we smile back at
nothing at all
Because we know that
the rainstick sings
for us and proclaims
a God who is
Glorious.

Spidery Offspring

Spidery offspring
scampering their beige
underbellies
winds in predatory pursuit
provoked by coal-lined clouds
immobilized
because they wonder at such beauty
sand stops in the crevice of
your Bible's cover
and traces the cracks
of a car-key pod
ancient glass filaments erode
synthetic plastics, rubbers, paints
and you're being stalked by a
digital camera chronicling today
in images that will always fail to
convey the experience.

Lost.

Cringe
as the crow
caws its fury
of burning defiance,
Your hand
inflamed.
The smoke stack mocking
common sense
and tea
and written language.
Cardboard glaring.
Don't judge me
I am real
I make sense.
Your hand
tribal dances,
spinning,
and evolution is lost.

This is me trying to be abstract for a class assignment.