Displaced River

Displaced river flows
from pleasure to heartache
Jubilation ends on the corps’s dry ground
As charges ignite

There are no winners
Those who had, have not
Those who had not
Are left with nothing

Summoned memories
Teaching what was worth having
Sounds of mocking scorn
To the ones who controlled

The ones who held water to its form
manageable for a use
Are left with no purpose
They grasp at the wind

No form remains
Only that which hovers
In the darkness over the void
And all hidden within

The End Will Not Be Like The Middle

The end will not be
Like the middle
The birth was full
Of well directed glory
Soon ravaged
By self-conceit
The pursuit of dreams
Less glorifying
Narcissistic rebellion
Devoured hope
With only a pinprick
In the dark cloud gate
Through which the light
Cast a thin ray through time
And in the darkest hour
The end will come at last
As everything
Submerges in shadows
Only light
Remains

Quieting Rage

When children bear pain
Absent defenders sought
But wanting births monstrous rage

No!
Haiku will not do
Will not lend voice to such rage
Will not give life to such creatures
As needed to right the wrongs
And heal the deep burning wounds

Yet sonnets are lovely, perhaps it seems
Melancholy songs of burdening woe
But inky scratch on torn paper is mean
Befit the crime but a sonnet? oh no

There are but words
Of hate and violence
Of revenge and justice

Vengeance is mine

There are cries for grace
Pleas for peace

It is finished

Does this child bear pain
Does this victim seek advocates

My burden is light

I cannot carry, my back has grown weak
I struggle to lift leg after leg

Decrease, I’ll increase

What victim remains
When all justice is poured
And all mercy portioned out
And all that’s left is my own pride

Pride goes before a fall

And thus the greatest adversary of all

Flood

The rains came
Not cleansing but destroying
Not washing but sloshing
Mud and grime into
The dwelling
Gravel roads melted
Away as forgotten pavement sank to the caves
The rains came
Not cleansing but destroying

The sun rose
Shining and lighting
Casting its rays
Across forsaken villages
Grass seemed greener
Flowers more abundant
Life continued its ecological cycle
The sun rose
Shining and lighting

The surgeon came
Cutting to heal
Wounding to correct
Breaking misshapen bone
Wedging rods of steel
Amidst suffering flesh
The patient sleeps to groan
Hobbles to walk
The surgeon came
Cutting to heal

The promise came
To be stricken to crush
Kurios Kristos
Forsaken accursed
Dying for crimes to atone
Suffering to reconcile
Cast down to lift up
The promise came
To be stricken to crush

The Bride

Bridal dreams from lingering sunset youth
Die with hopes of love songs by candlelight
Lay waste in storms of traditions uncouth
No weeping mother or brave shining knight
Tall and handsome replaced by nothing much
Brilliant gowns turn to faded torn jeans
The ceremony is reduced as such
At least there is a paper to be seen
Fairy tale wishes unfit for the poor
As are the plans of a hopeful young maid
Rather life becomes but a wretched chore
Long after the day a judgment is made

But hopes and dreams, they are absurd
Joy and happiness are just foolish words