saturday morning (for scott)

sun rising

fire raging

floor caving

-- four men down.

walls looming

darkness pressing

pain clutching

-- mayday called.

heat glowing

smoke invading

panic rising

-- seconds melt.

water pelting

sunlight piercing

stretchers creaking

-- hell empties.


read all about it

if we were like You

the fatherless would be defended;

the homeless, find a place;

more parties attended; songs sung with gusto

as we reflected grace.

buildings would mean so much less;

neighbours, so much more;

family hardships, divided by

our blessings laid in store.

there'd be cold water given;

there'd be seeds, planted deep;

manly men could stand and fight,

and cuss, and pray, and weep.

women could sit down and learn,

then rise, and change the world.

their works would praise them in the gates;

no slander would be hurled.

children would feel free to ask;

adults could question, too;

pride rebuked by fruitful faith

...if we were like You


let's play Church.

redemption secured... with packing tape

Castle Guard tromps past in sock feet.

he is making his rounds.

i am the Queen; he is my Guardian.

he spots an Intruder (likewise in sock feet).

toy handcuffs enforcing castle law,

Little Brother is taken captive.

plastic snaps and the Intruder escapes.

Queen Mommy is tickled to death.

Toddler-Prince flees for his life.

King Daddy scoops up plastic pieces,

proceeds toward the kitchen cupboard.

a shameful defector's death awaits.

the way is blocked.

with five-year-old hands outstretched,

the Guardian reclaims his broken toy.

picking at the end of the tape,

cutting with safety scissors,

he reflects a new image.

blue eyes beneath furrowed brow,

pink tongue between bared baby teeth,

Castle Guard transforms into Redeemer.

packing tape and a little imagination

hold swapped parts firmly in place.

mission accomplished: redemption secured.

brussels sprouts

green, leafy explosions of vitamins

death to the tastebuds in a pot

peter's testimony

wouldn't have left it all to follow anyone else.

i'm not like that.

you just have this way of proving yourself to me.

right -- to -- me.

you know me better than i do;

let me tag along anyway.

it means everything.

more than life.

i saw what they did to you,

knew the place where they left you.

felt so sure we all were next.

then you were gone...

that place was empty -- all of a sudden,

you're eating broiled fish, cooking us breakfast.

staring straight into me again.

you know you changed me.

listen, everyone's gonna know about this.

they don't wanna hear it, but i'm not stopping.

this kills, but i'm yours.

who can deny You now?


i'm just another disciple.

two sisters (for jeh)

i have a little sister...

she likes the colour red.

this should tell all you need

to know about her head.

i don't mean her hair colour,

for that is blond enough.

i just mean the way she thinks --

her attitudes 'n' stuff.

she is ever passionate

(such a good thing when she's wise)!

she can sometimes make me cringe

and sometimes roll my eyes.

truly, i am stubborn, too

(you must know that by now.

but if you don't, you've surely seen

my art-fart side, and how

i blabber on and on in my

own narcissistic way).

i need my sis to level me.

i thank God every day

for her little lip-curl

(it means "i'm on a roll"),

and for her left eyebrow arch

(it means "you're rather droll"),

and for the way she sits

when i've got something big to say --

she's listening and knowing

all the things along our way

that led us both to where we are.

you should ask us sometime.

we'd be more than glad to tell you --

we'll even make it rhyme!

oh yes, i love my sister.

oh yes, you know it's true.

and one more thing you need to know:

we'll lick you at Taboo.

we're here!

we're illiterate!

get used of it!

(sorry -- i just had to use that old joke of ours) :P