Lonely

Lonely leads me to places

I never thought I'd see,

Where the misfits throw stones at the stars,

And the smallest tear weighs more than a ton.

Lonely carries me to regions

That I never thought I'd be,

Places where the coins have third and fourth sides,

And every choice has desperate consequences.

Lonely shows me things,

Heavy things that frighten me,

Blank books with no words to write,

Blank looks with no thoughts inside.

Lonely is a bully, a giant with evil intentions.

He steps on my heart, crushing my hope,

Crushing my beating, blood-filled heart.

Lonely, let me be alone!

I will be only alone and not lonely.

Tiny Steps

Reaching out, still frightened,
Eyeing friendly strangers with wondering caution.
Going alone, but looking around, not down.
Another day's sun will shine still brighter, even as
Night falls on the sprouting seed.

I Run To Him

I am clinging to the boat

I made with my self-will and self-sufficiency.

The storm flies quick about me,

A storm that God has sent to set me free.

I see my boat is breaking,

The pieces drift away.

The more I try to gain,

The more I lose.

I look out across the water.

I see a man standing there with eyes as fire.

While the waves are rising higher,

He's peaceful still, and walking on the sea!

I run to Him, I run to Him,

Across the stormy water,

To the safety of His heart.

I run to Him, I run to Him.

Where could I be safer, than in my Savior's arms? I run to Him.

I felt that I was strong enough,

Strong enough to keep my world from going wrong.

Strong and tough and angry,

I kept myself from feeling any harm.

Yet God knew how to break through

The protection that I built.

My careful hands can't save me,

But He can.

I run to Him, I run to Him,

Across the stormy water

To the safety of His heart.

I run to Him, I run to Him.

Where could I be safer, than in my Savior's arms? I run to Him.

The Platypus

He's an odd gentlemen, he

With mouth and tail equally heavy,

Like a teeter-totter on land,

Like a missile in the water.

There's venom hidden in him.

His cuteness notwithstanding, I don't

Want to allow my much-loved appendages near,

For he can strike me down.

Intrigued by him, I will not

Discontinue the research, yet

I hesitate –

Imagining the strike.

Rice

Rice planted, rice sprouts, peeking through bare earth,
Like single blades of grass, bright green against the dust.
Growing, they strengthen until the busy farmers visits,
And starts the well pump. The motor hums through the night
Until all is flooded, water licks up against dirt levees.
In their humid, mosquito-infested home, the green plants fatten.
Green enough to make a Tiger jealous,
A stark contrast to orange levee gates
And the ubiquitous red-winged blackbird
That flutters here, there, among the grasses.
Days grow hot, dry, and trucks stir up dust that settles on their heads,
Heads that are filling out with fruit,
The kernels are fattening, and this too, the farmer sees.
He pulls the levee gates (they are only tarps),
Delivers the water from its prison, scatters
It over roads and ditches.
And now the rice is ready for the final stretch,
The kernels must ripen, this is the purpose of their life.
And as the kernels ripen, the rice begins to change.
The green fades slowly, slowly, yet inexorably
Into gold, gold for the farmer,
Gold for the eater, the harvest.

Ariadne's Betrayal

I met him at a party
He was looking for some trouble
I could see he was scanning the crowd
While I privately admired his meaty shoulders

I circled to him, daring him to notice me
His lips stretched tight across perfect crooked teeth
Ted was his name, he said, grasping me firmly
On my arm so that I felt his fingers
Pressing into my skin

"Do you know," he asked, and his breath stirred my hair,
"Do you know a guy named Mike?"
"Mike!" I said, "Mike, my brother?"
(Mike was a bull-faced man, a scrapper, and yet...)

"Your brother!" That's when he looked my face over
He liked what he saw, his eyes burned brightly
"Yes, Mike is my brother, and I am Alliya,
But why would you care about that?"
"Alliya," he said, "Alliya, take me to Mike."

In an instant I weighed the decision
Heavy for Mike, my brother, often angry, but my brother.
But heavier still for this strong stranger
He might be my one shot, my one ticket out

I chose Ted, I told him where to go
Knowing my brother would go somewhere else
Ted strode in the house, not knocking, not caring,while
I nervously paced the concrete porch
Then Ted withdrew a revolver so solid that it
Killed Michael there on my mom's flowered couch

We leapt for the car, knowing the protection of distance
The Holiday Inn was seventy-five miles away
My heart had no feeling, it must have stopped beating
With the shot that stopped Mike's breath
When I finally slept I dreamed that Mike was still living
And the arms that held me were those of my father
When I woke I was alone

Abandoned, I wept, trying to drain it all
My anger, my fear, my shame, and my regret
I turned in the keys, but I stayed in the lobby
Nothing to move me, I slumped in the chair
My fingers tracing the flowers printed on the armrest

I sold out my brother to a rotten apple,
A car with no transmission, not a star, but a meteorite.
I should try to go back to my father
But why would he take me after what I had done?
I studied my wrists, pale and trembling
I could see the veins, dark with blood
The blood of my life I might drain if I dared
To end my existence, to bring on the finish

Then quietly, softly, a hand touched my shoulder
My wrists dropped, suddenly, glad to get away.
The one who was there offered me a new home
And nothing could prevent me from loving him more
More than father, mother, brother, lover
Because he gave me a second life that grew up over the first

Failed Again

Again I have failed to write the poem I planned to. I wouldn't post at all, but I am trying to shame myself into getting this done. I started it, actually. Does that count for something?