Friday, June 10, 2022

What I learned from Willy

 



We must know truth 
We do well to avoid error 
Our knowledge is a drop
Our ignorance, a sea

We need only act 
And keep acting as if
The thing were real 
And the real will become 

Old fashioned hell-fire
Preaching and teaching 
Producing fruits 
At full conversion value 

Epistemology is communal 
Yet I have liberty to disagree
Because one’s love of neighbors
May not be as of one’s self

The easy habit 
Is ignoring data
The popular ritual
Obtaining unity in one’s mind

Truth is a stream too great
For any single mind to take in
No single dip or dive is universal
Truing is what we do to pass through

Doubt is not
The lamentable loss of certainty 
But the positive possibility 
Of certainty 

On this one thing we do not agree
The absolute divides us
Therefore, let us not become parted
By such trifles

We must respect
Sacredness of individuality
Outwardly tolerate 
What is not Itself intolerant 

We, instead, embrace
These vices of adroitness
swindling and their indulgence
Also, cant, and sympathy with cant






















Friday, May 27, 2022

Make it go away

 


Jesus with long hair

Paul with crotchety everything 

Both are blind and lead the blind

Like a circus

Around and around


Fleas could do better teamwork

Because the robotics could save them 

Our maybe, just maybe 

Jesus and Paul are the robots

Programmed like toasters 


And tea kettles resting 

On shelves of good will

Until some thrifter thinks a good idea

To invest in them just to throw them away

And make room for better junk on the shelf











Sunday, May 22, 2022

I don't often say this


 


But I wish he would come back

And explain himself 

This generation is not that one

At war with each other

Signs and portents were all around

And adversaries cast down

Like lightening 


If he was here

I’d ask which English translation was best

And then smirk

He’d then smirk with me

Followed by jokes and laughter

About the memes he inspired

And the magical letters he composed


‘I came back already,’ he’d say confidently 

‘Once was enough for me,’ he’d chuckle

While sipping a crafty concoction I made

We’d even take a selfie together

To prove who was wrong all along

And its caption would be priceless

‘He’s back! Just not as promised.’









To be true

 



i.

I love your integrity 

and balance

Not one day goes by when I don’t admire

your thoughtfulness and brilliance









ii.

I have a library

But you are the true intellectual between us

I think everyone around us notices the same


I study and write what is speculative and controversial

You study the concrete

You dwell upon the practical,

the efficient 


I am a mere table of contents

You are the poem, the trilogy, 

the biography, the book

with the best binding


I learn more from your book 

and your teaching 

than from all other sources taken together









iii.

You love life and are grateful for it

You don’t complain

Instead, you rejoice when it’s appropriate










iv.

You grieve for others 

more than your own lot

You are the source of peace and contentment for others 

for every moment between


You’re genuinely interesting, too

Being artistic and crafty just adds to what makes you so immensely intriguing

You’re also logical, but not annoyingly logical










v.

You don’t boast in doing good

You just do good constantly, 

thinking of others, 

even with age appropriateness










vi.

You listen and consider

and learn and process 

prior to slight adjustments to your own convictions












vii.

It is the wise choice—taking into account techniques, timing, planning, and outcome—that becomes worthy of your consideration


You choose well, and that often reflexively, 

instead of choosing too much or too little as a habit












viii.

Like a plate full of garden varieties and delicacies, you always nibble with choice—rarely a mouthful, 

never any stuffing of face


You save for later so you can savor later

A to-go box

is for a full plate 

that you can foresee 

being impossible to finish 












ix.

I remain mesmerized that you listen, 

not so you can weasel around words 

to get your own thoughts in

but to hear and respect and work with others

And to make them feel heard 


You even choose to not listen at the most considerate times,

in order to be more productive and fruitful


A gracious spirit is evident the whole while, too, each and every time










x.

You work constantly

Your energy is as beautiful as you resting after a long day

When I peak at you while sleeping I think, 

‘I can’t believe this one is mine.’ 

Adding to all of this, you’re sexy, fun, exquisitely modest, and positively incandescent










xi.

You are honest and clear in communication, and cute in your mannerisms


You are winsome and kind, careful and patient, generous and courageous, loyal and dignified, stable and trustworthy, resourceful and blissful


You are the most admiral person I have ever known—the sweetest, gentlest, most natural embodiment of maternity, femininity, and coadjutricity


You are the most valuable friend of my life










xii.

Thank you for everything you are

Thank you for everything you do


I lack nothing with you

I lack nothing because of you


I love you

Thank you for loving me









Sunday, March 27, 2022

Shoulder to Shoulder




When our nest is empty

we will still be

shoulder to shoulder

not just face to face

as mere friends

playing games

and killing time


Instead we will be 

building together

growing together

producing together

feasting together

waiting together

for that great city of the sun










Presanctified


Across my world is a hellish place

I am not welcome

It’s a hospital

And only a hospital

With an autistic chaplain

A frog that croaks to inmates

And a canine with longer fur than Jesus

 

It’s full of sickly patients

And no physician to be found

That is why we travel 

Across the plane

To the magic city

Where I am allowed to cry

And many others cry with me


When their streets flood

And candles go out

And doors close for the night

It’s because the gifts inside 

Receive our prayers

Hear our cries 

And cry along with us










Unconditional Love


 


What is that?


One’s excuse to retreat from the face of evil?


To become something magical and mythical?


To mimic the fictional deity we imagine to be?


To love all equally yet hate some of them more?


Which is it?



Some say it is the gift of Jesus, the son of god who is killed and made alive


Yet among the truly liberal it is spoken of as the charity of one 

 

who kills and makes alive


but who also makes alive and then kills

Blessed are all those who put their trust in him









Twelve hours


Over the valley and through the woods

A half day was spent seated, motionless

Then we arrived

And a curious young man

Locked the only door 

From the inside out

To the only room

To pay our water bill

To dump out our trash


After the handle was removed

From the outside

One might think

Disparagement would be unnecessary

But that door doesn’t swing both ways

If you plant corn

Don’t expect strawberries to grow

Humiliation is what precedes exaltation

Stupid decisions just delay that process










Holy resurrection

 




The spirits howl this morning

ready for worship — ready for war


I can hear them wanting to break glass

wanting to push through and invade


But these walls

built upon the foundation of martyrs


mortared with the hymns of holy ones

won’t let them


Its breath continues to hover and push back

Its black emblazoned stones cry out


Have mercy on us

and on the whole world










The end


 


Why so rude?


Because a pinnacle has been reached

It doesn’t matter what others think

Others don’t care

So others shouldn’t feel obligated either


Oh, but they do care

So I’m told


Oh, I get it

They are now


Now that honesty has entered the sanctuary

And clarity the conversation

Direct, principled, and prepared with zero bullshit

With a side of loyalty to those hate horseshit, too

The end













Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Prey for piece

 




Convoys arrive and restrictions quickly depart 

Liberties and ringleaders are quickly arrested 

Ministers seize powers and opposition is quickly silenced 

Gifts and earnings are devoured after the first freeze


Then comes the media hush

Then comes the partisan retreat 

Then powers suddenly go back to normal


Who still remembers how this game is played? 

Those who lose will be left behind 

To fend for themselves or starve


Then comes the ultimate junk food

Hot fries with cheese curds and gravy to the rescue 

Of those behind the silence and starvation

Behind the powers masking the science


When poutine invades every living room 

Everyone will draw six feet closer

So that biosecurity basics can sneak in


Making everyone watching happy


Then the muskrat will enter into the great narrative 

Its omnivorous diet will devour world markets

And prevent harm caused by poutine


But the muskrat must be summoned first

And he only responds to one call

The delectable chirp of a desperate bird 

In need of salvation from God


Only this rodent can link stars above 

And save what is left of our souls

Elongating and damning us all


The next meal to be served 

Is planned at a table 

With nice, cushy seats that recline


Entrées and hors d’oeuvres 

Are played out in pieces

On this grand chessboard 

They all designed