Anatomy: Face

Why a face with eyes of azure? Staring gates of open pleasure. Why the sound of whistling, whining, soft and high, low and dying? Why the grasp of understanding with…

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The Gospeller

(This is a poetic-didactic story similar to and inspired by John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and The Life and Death of Mr. Badman. I'm writing it primarily for my family, but…

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Another casualty of 2020

I was recently made aware of the passing of a former schoolmate from Junior High. We attended the same grade and had some common friends, but we were not personally close.

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Guilty

You just confessed To a murder that you committed You’ve made a mess Your freedom has been forfeited...

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I Want to Write Something (2020)

I want to look around and write something To hear the sounds, and write something To see the crowds and writes something To reach the clouds so that I can write something

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The song of the orphan

Ireland~800 AD The rich, melodious voices rose up together in unison. The high vaulted stone walls echoed and rebounded the graceful song. In the church, hundreds of candles lighted the vaulted chamber giving it a holy, almost ethereal beauty. One by one, the hooded monks walked slowly into the chapel, their chant filling the air.

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Pro(fit)phet

There is yet one man by whom we may inquire of the Lord, Micaiah the son of Imlah; but I hate him, for he never prophesies good concerning me, but always evil.” -King Ahab

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Life Poem

To live as though I have no wife; to hate this world and earthly life. Kill the body! Can't kill the soul!

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