Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Haiku Poetry

One of my on-line friends posted instructions on writing Haiku poetry. I took it as a challenge. So... here it is:

Haiku poetry,
That strange Japanese art form,
Confines my writing.

Verbal symmetry
Forces my words to conform,
Substance / form fighting.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Distorted Vision

Two months ago, I went to the doctor because of a headache that wouldn't go away. After extensive testing, I was diagnosed with cataract.  Evidently, my brain was detecting vision changes before I realized that my sight was impaired.

The doctor told me that, although cataract is usually the result of aging, occasionally, young people get it. After doing some research on the topic, I found out that cataract is caused by overexposure to ultraviolet light and other electro-magnetic waves in that frequency spectrum.

In my case, I suspect that I've spent too much time in the sun without sunglasses and too much time working with microwave transmitters and receivers.

They've scheduled my eye surgery in October and in November.

In the past two weeks, the degradation of my eye sight has accelerated. Now, I can see that my vision is bad. Everything is a bit foggy and none of the colors are quite right. During the night time, I see halos around light sources (lamps, street lights, etc.).

I'm starting to wonder if what I ever saw was ever what it really was. What are the consequences of my misperceptions?  How can I make the right choices if I can not see the choices for what they are?


My eyes can not be trusted to be true.
My heart is colored by shades of grey.
I question the beauties that I pursue
And question the price that I'm willing to pay.

What must I do to discern
Which colors in my pallet are askew?
How many times must the color wheel turn
Before I can see the truth comes through.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Altered Vision

Once, I dated an amazing looking girl,
A life-size Barbie with no physical flaw.
She stands toe to toe with the beauties of the world;
Men and boys would stare at her with awe.

Though she may possess the perfection of woman's form,
Her heart beats the rhythm of an immature child.
Her tantrum erupts like a sudden April storm
With no dissuading the logic of a girl gone wild.

She wants what she wants, with no apologies.
Even if it's something the situation doesn't allow.
"Can't it be fixed with modern technologies?"
She screams, "I want it and I want it, now!"

Cognizant of my distaste for her demeanor,
I took great pain to suck it up day after day.
But failing to change the bag in the vacuum cleaner,
My peeve finally spilled over the other way.

I started to focus on two minor flaws
That normally would not be a deal breaker.
She smokes cigarettes without a pause
And curses like a whore from Hell's half acre.

The beauty, whose match was once unmet,
Is now obstructed by these two specks in my eyes.
I see only her lips holding a cigarette
Between which the flow of profanity never dies.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Spinning Time

Spinning plates on their poles
Line the hours of my day.
My balancing acts take their tolls
My sanity slowly slips away.

Racing from one wobble to another
My life slowly disappears.
More frequently I wonder, "Why bother?"
Quickly, my days turn into years.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Voter Rage

As this legislative session, of the U.S. Congress, drags on, I am, once again, disappointed by democracy.  My blood boils as I watch greed and stupidity running rampant through the bills being considered and passed by this congress. 


How can you call it free election
When you spend tens of millions on a single campaign?
How can you call it unbiased legislation
When you sit, with the lobbyists, sipping champagne?

How can you call it leadership qualities
When you make each decision by taking a poll?
And kept that thief, in your House, with no apologies,
When you found, in his freezer, money that he stole.

How can you call it compassionate virtues
When you divvy out a pittance to those who hunger?
How can you call it family values
When you cheat, on your wife, with someone younger?

I want a veto on this political process!
I want a veto on this political process!

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Writer's Block

I labor in this field of fruitless times
Reaping only the accumulation of hollow hourly chimes.
Though I till a rich vocabulary of my witty rhymes
I harvest only a bushel of sour lemons and limes.

I miss my muse and her whimsical words.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Come with me to fly in the face of reality.

One of my favorite quotes is from David Wilkerson’s "The Cross and the Switchblade". When Wilkerson encountered Nicky Cruz, the teen gang member, Cruz pulled out a switchblade. To which Wilkerson replied, "Nicky, you can cut me into a thousand pieces and every piece will still say, 'I love you and God loves you.'"


I want to fly in the face of reality,
While still clinging to this spinning ball,
To find evidence of this simplicity:
That love can conquer all.

Is there not universality
To this repeated truth,
Not confined to eternity,
After God restores our youth?

I want to love angry young men.
I want to love hard hearted old.
I want to love exploited women
And children whose lives were sold.

I, now, have no debt to pay
Nor obligation to untie.
So, please, don't beg me to stay.
Just fondly wish me good bye...

Unless.. You want to come with me
To fly In the face of reality.

Friday, March 7, 2008

A Prayer for the Daily Struggle

Why am I constantly withholding from You, Lord?
Why do I choose not to do what is right?
What is the value of the temporal things I hoard?
Why is it so hard to see choices as black and white?

Remind me, Lord, that You're my shield and sword,
That You provide for me day and night,
That, in heaven, is where my treasures are stored.
Let me not be tempted by Turkish Delight.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Not Seeing the Whole Painting

The beauty of miracles in everyday life,
Is spread liberally throughout my day;
But even with vision as sharp as knife,
Too often I'm blind to God's display.

A spectrum of kindness from His hand,
Unrequited by my heart,
Is an intricate mural of painted sand
Whose observer must step away to see the art.

I labor in the details of the day
Too busy to appreciate the whole,
Like seeing each brushstroke of Claude Monet
But never seeing the sunrise in my soul.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

The Riddle of the Sphinx

The Riddle of the Sphinx: What is the creature that walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon and three in the evening?

James 1:5-8 If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.


I once was a child
Crawling on all four;
Fascination running wild,
Wonders to explore.

Constantly, I would ask
Endless how's and why's;
You'd pour out your cask
Of answers, good and wise.

Then, I walked up right
With just two on the ground,
Proud of my reasoning might
And my own vocal sound.

I questioned Your wisdom
And boundaries that You drew
Only to be imprisoned
By my own world view.

Now, I humbly ask,
"What, Where, and How?"
With faith in Your answers
That I had not until now.

Today, I walk on three
With Your staff in my hand,
With my weight on Your wisdom,
Towards the promised land.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

The Struggle to Find Joy in My Trials

James 1:2-4 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.


I struggle to find
Joy in my trials
For envy remains my master.

Though I pray,
That You'd take it away,
It wouldn't depart any faster.

My faith is an eaglet
Nudged from the nest
Struggling to take flight.

Unable to see
My glorious future
I envy the tethered kite.

Please, set my sight
Towards Your rising sun
On the other side of eternity.

Then, blow Your wind
Beneath my wings,
And let my faith defy gravity.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

I Love the Way Colleen Sees the World

Her words dance
With the joy
Of childhood pleasure.

They hold
Every moment
Like new-found treasure.

For each
Circumstance
They find God's blessing,

Even in times
Of hardship
With trouble pressing.

I wish my words
Could laugh
Like Colleen's writing

And find
The dullest moment
More than exciting.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Evaluting the Past Year on a Cold Winter Night

The winter season returns again,
Hours of solitude to weigh my life.
Its accusing wind cuts straight to the heart
More precisely than a surgeon's knife.

Were my deeds of this year past
Truly selfless and without blame?
Or were they only kindling scraps
To feed the hearth of my ego's flame?

I rummage through the snapshots in my mind
Looking for things of my Lord's desire.
Will I find warmth in His approving smile?
Is there any wood for that fire?