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Other poetry

others -- the finished ones that are shorter, or that I'm not quite as happy with

Poetry pages:


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September's Limerick

written 2003 0115

there once was a girl named September
whose anger was more than an ember
she was born in July
and thus she would cry
when no one could ever remember




Short and Cold

began 2002 0518

A wounded benediction to countless conversation.
Unaccustomed chance slides soft against a heart of ice,
heaving inside ghostly promises.


An attempt at free verse from before I really even knew what free verse was. I think it was written about someone that I had liked before I really knew how to like someone. Some time after all that, this someone directed me to a poetry website that she was browsing, y'see, specifically a daily "magnet poetry" contest. So I tried my hand, only somewhat conscious of using the most obvious available subject.


Moment's Glimpse

began 2002 0503

a moment's glimpse of where I stand
at rest within the Maker's hand
a tiny prick of light among
so many other lights is hung


Was driving home from work one day when this occured to me. I had, one month previously, started a new job managing the front office of a small sheet metal shop in middle suburbia near Detroit, and it occurred to me just how much we were the American economy. Just as much as the World Trade Centers, or any other centralized icon, it was also all the little people, and everyone had their own part to play...


Dress warmly, it's a cold, cold world

began 2000 0202

Feeings in and of themselves,
Are dirty rags thrown on the floor,
To use again just wash them off,
There must be something more.

These garments of our feelings,
Between the same sets daily change,
Our only options there inside us,
Clothes we can but rearange.

Worn again 'till they're worn out,
The same old tack we take,
Of lust, greed, and petty things,
Not picking up on what's at stake.

Winds of life blow right through,
These frayed covers we claim protect,
Icy chill of reality,
Cuts to human nature direct.

Our focus for too long has been,
On getting what to us is sweet,
Like too much candy, now I'm starving,
And longing for some Godly meat.


Cynicism directed at human nature. The last stanza is kinda corny sounding, but I like the particular mental and sense picture it paints.


Are we there yet?

began 1999 0924

This world is deceptive,
Water clouded and grey,
What should I do,
And what should I say?

Shall I cry out in Latin?
Or babel like mad?
Is it glory for God?
Or just a fad?

Seeking some truth,
Through the deciever's great storm,
Of lies and deception,
God's love to deform.

Seeing God's face,
Through a sin-shaded pane,
I live only to serve,
For at death is my gain.

The glass broken away,
By mercy's great swing,
It's weapon the Cross,
Now greet your King.


A poem about the world, and how stinkin' confusing it is. Written just after my first encounter with the spiritual gift of tounges, so I was cynically wondering if it was real or faked. I've since had it confirmed that it was real, tho...


Ska Solutions

began sometime 1998 09 -- 1999 04

Should someone try to tell you what to do
You know that yours is a better way
Even if their choice was the right one
Will you live to see another day?

No others know better than you
You have a better path to take
So you march blindly on
Leaving destruction in your wake

My earthly knowledge
Is my place to start
But I'm failing at this game
I need a change of heart
Ignore your schemes
Lay your rebellion to rest
What is God's plan
Is for the best.
What he plans
I try to do
A daily battle
I trudge through


Last couple years of high school, I was having trouble making myself do my homework. This was written about that struggle with my own will. I was really into Ska at the time, and I was kinda writing it to a Ska beat, so that's where it got it's title

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