Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Past Will Have the Last Word


History repeats itself.

– unknown

And this is how it ends,
How it began last winter.

The sun sang his final
Song before dipping down

Out of sight. Will we
See him again? Will

Our brows again be
Kissed with his holy

Blood? Fall has been
Here before, has tip-

Toed away from Summer
on ruffled leaves, has

signaled Winter to start
her annual dirge. Fall

has fooled us all again
into crowning Compromise

king for another term,
into meeting in the middle

and giving none of our
possessions to the poor.


Something New


Where can you run to escape from yourself?

Where you gonna go? Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here.

-Jon Foreman

This is where I stood
This time
Last year.

This is where the rain
Where the vultures
Gathered death
Like food.

Where Darkness gripped
My hand
Like a fond lover,

Only to whore itself
Out to a hopeless

I was not fooled.
Only lost.
Only wandering.
Only on a vacation

From Joy.
From Purpose.
From Life.

Would these three
Ever find me?
I could not tell.

But today,
As I look back
Over the glaring precipice

Us four dance
On the grave of whores,
Those who promised
But only delivered

Only longing.

I dare you

Sang the Light.

I dare you to