Adonai Tzidkenu

I creep in shadows.
My selfish ways are clouds,
barricades to the light.

Sweet purity and innocence
hover close to me.
A fog whose moisture
of blood undeservedly flowing
could wash my heart
free of its pollution of sin.

I turn my ear from the distressed
and heart-wrenching cries
my savior weeps for me in desperation,
instead using my pride
and steep stubbornness to inflate the gaps
that are left when everything else
has failed me.

My heart, porous as my ears are resistant,
steeps in the Word
and echoes back His plea.
Whimpers, knowing what help it needs,
though my actions lash out in blindness.
Hope rests on my shoulders,
not all is lost.

And when pride is wounded
and stubbornness weakened
I am left alone
with that which I so defied,
knowing that the righteousness
He accredited to me
was never mine.

No longer do I stand
with knives of mulish transgressions
deflecting the light
from entering my heart.
My only joy,
my fountain of life,
Are my tears of elation,
reflecting that light,
that love,
to the world.

Tessa

A miracle second to none in this world
The spark of a star freshly born
Polished and perfect before us she’s curled
Dark thoughts from minds are soon torn.

Cradled and warm in grandfather’s arms
With daddy nearby standing guard,
Not a soul can approach with intentions to harm
Hopes for this child stand strong and unmarred.

A beauty that baffles even elaborate dreams
A room full of praise for a most precious gift
A small sigh to trickle past lips as a stream,
Through cards of warm welcome they begin now to sift.

A baby brings joy, a baby brings tears,
A baby's a future to unfold through the years.

Sunrise

Morning
Bright dewy mist
Yawning over the hill
Waking everyone from slumber
Bonjour.

Tritones

The devil’s chord grinds harshly on the ears
Reverberations letting the heavy anger
settle in the room.

Augmented fourths from f to b
And back again
Diminished fifths.

Played but once, your fate is set
The moment one foot is layed upon the cathedral stoop
The stones pound hard against what could have been your future.

The Silent Snow

The snow, it falls so silently
In heaps of cold soft cotton.
Muffling the buried screams
That echo deep within.

In heaps of cold soft cotton
I fall as a child into memories
That echo deep within
Of frozen winters past.

I fall as a child into memories
Muffling the buried screams
Of frozen winters past.
The snow, it falls so silently.

Mr. Sun

The glare of the sand
Sunbeams aren’t so friendly now
The clouds are far gone.

A Wrong Turn

Poetry is the bravery of novelists unveiled.
The monarch outweighed
the panther.
The smell of moss
the pressure of humidity
and heat.
The sun’s rays
glare back
at my retinas
through the trees.
A macaw screams at me.
Incriminated
by a bird.
The bite of salt on my tongue
the taste of fatigue.
George,
are you sure this is Moscow?
It’s chilly here.
George,
you have a lovely watch,
what is the hour?
Oh snap,
my stomach growled.
The monarch might see
me
as a challenger.
Bashana Haba’ah.
The joyous moon of dreams
The panther comes near
eyes glinting
pounces
and kisses my nose.
I shall flap my arms
and soar to the canopy
where Moscow might be visible.
Cassie, she is clever.
She crafted this piece of genius
that you
are devouring.
When we arrive
we will eat fruit
and it will be sweet
like disgusting honey.
I will go
and blaze my way
across this floor
to that one
and stamp my feet!
I do not fear you!
You can not stop me!
Je t’aime, dear panther!
Te amo tambien,
he answers.
The trees stand tall
in the mist of the Amazon.

Tiny Dancer

You’re leaking out smiles
and spilling out grins
my heartbeat speeds up
and I feel my head spin.
My eyes gain a shine,
And I feel myself blush
You ask to be mine,
I could fly on this rush.
You just ask for a chance
in hopes that I’ll see
that a simple school dance
might set us both free.

The Odd Couple

Despite the nosiness
of the butterfly,
the toothy reptiles grin
has
the upper-hand.
One
false move
and
with a click of the teeth,
it’s goodbye,
butterfly.

Objection

Dirty, tarnished, and worn.
Overused and discarded.
These small trinkets,
though meaningless in the eye of a stranger,
hold more memories than
a grandmother’s quilt
or a grandfather’s shed.
Tradition and expectations,
or surprises and laughter,
the plastic holds many secrets.
The metal is many-faced.
Lacking the sheen of newer things,
those things that mean the most
are oft painted with love
or tears,
and with one small glance
at the glaze of emotions
these baubles
can uproot memories
like strong winds.

Deux

Tiny stalks grow
so fragile
on the wings of a nightmare.
Rhinoceroses jumping about
breaking all its fragile bones
the ghost of a hand is all I have
dripping metal burns to recall
a kiss of flame
with cloud puffs of white.
The new aspirations and dreams
bluntly funny
pulled me back by a thread,
however,
with a dark shade
a souvenir sculpture
a funny mistake
your voice repeats itself.
As proud as she was
sailing over the fence
it is a constant reminder
it happens so quickly.
By the prayer lay the tears
I can never seem to lose you.

The Color of Heaven

What secrets lie behind this wall?
Blissful things most unfathomable,
Sweet melodies dripping with the morning dew,
Blades of grass licking the sky, blown in breezes,
And gentle rains rolling down
Window panes like so many silent beads.

What color are angels’ wings?
Gleaming silver, pure and sweet,
or the color of a choir, painting chordal illustrations.
Capped with the ringing of chimes,
Shoed with the deep beat of a timpani,
Glinting in the sun with soft trills of elation.

This world has crawled too near
To simple, fading, things.
When beyond wallets and tears
There lies a glowing revelation
The key to relief and redemption,
Love.