Truth is an absolute,
standing astride the tides
of passing thought
that try to change its meaning.

Beauty is a murky oracle,
conjuring images in a crystal ball
of reflected light
to glimpse what it can never clearly see.

And ugly truth careens headlong
into what beauty means to be,
leaving shards of man made myth
to reflect the intentions of eternity.

© 2014 Wasted Space Publishing

I was his favorite.
I don’t know why
(well maybe I do),
but I knew.
So, I could not disappoint him.
So, I hid my self from him.
And still I was revealed.

But from God I cannot hide
my weaknesses,
my inadequacies,
my self.
So, I disappoint Him.
So, I hide from Him.
And still He reveals Himself to me.

Grace for what I can not do.
Mercy for what I’ve already done.
Salvation revealed on crossed timbers,
as if I were a favorite son.

© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing

Read old books.
They take us to places
We can’t go any more.
They transport us through time
To worlds we don’t remember.

Read old books.
They reveal the beginnings of ideas
We take for granted.
They unfold again for us the ideas
We’ve forgotten to believe in.

We live in a world of the new.
We believe in a world that changes.
But it is a trick of time.
The world is still the same.
Men are still the same.
And what we believe in now
Are only the accessories.

So, read old books.
Make sure your children see you.
And perhaps when they grow old
They, too, will
Read old books.

© 2011 Wasted Space Publishing

Pathetic escapism where I can find
Selfish solutions to help me unwind.
When reality reads the riot act,
I ignore the facts

to seek a virgin landscape.

Life’s problems are clear.
Putting them aside doesn’t make them disappear.
When calmer climes of imagination call,
I must force myself

to face a rusting reality.

My escape is limited by the solid truth,
But imagined perfection is better than none at all.
When forced to choose between the two,
I prefer embracing both

to battle life in a flank attack.

© 2013 Wasted Space Publishing

I want to be something more.
I want to face the day on a different shore.
I want everybody to know what I am.
I want to be a better man.

I want to break out!
Show the world what I’m about.
I want to break out!
And drown my inner doubt.

I want to have confidence, self control.
I want to go national.
I want to learn to use my gifts.
I want to give myself a lift.

But in me the spotlight turns within.
Now inner peace is where renown begins.
And like an ocean sculpting the eternal sands of time,
I must create myself with the perfect line.

And break out!
Show the world what I’m about.
Break out!
And some day drown this inner doubt.

© 2013 Wasted Space Publishing

Something is going on inside me.
Something I want to give in to.
A whisper of what I should be doing,
Not what I am doing.

Perceptions are changed within me.
Perceptions I need to live and do.
An actualization of what I should be doing,
not knowing and never doing.

The right thing to do
is sometimes crystal clear.
The right way to live
is obviously right here.
But overcoming what already is,
To do what I know is right
confronts me with an overwhelming fear.

Fear of changing everything around me.
Fear of something new.
I need the faith to change what I’m doing,
Not the fear of losing what I’m doing now.

But overcoming what already is,
And accepting what I know is right
is thwarted in the clutches of my weak self.

© 2012 Wasted Space Publishing

It’s not enough to recognize my weaknesses.
There has to be more than that.
I have to do more than see the problems.
Solutions are what it’s all about.

Still, the day to day sometimes obscures the big picture.
Life’s little problems blot out the light.
And until I feel more secure
You can’t expect me to have any kind of foresight.

But that’s just another excuse, another weakness.
I have to do more than that.
And still I stumble through the problems,
My feeble excuses the only solutions about.

© 2012 Wasted Space Publishing

Waiting for something else to happen,
My mind escapes me.
It leaves me empty
As it floats in ethereal reality.

I wait for my mind to return with anticipation,
But not hurried.
It returns in time
With a notion of eternal spirituality.

Between the spiritual and the real
There is a bridge.
It dwells within our mind.
It moves where we cannot go.

You must first seek the mind of awareness,
For God is hidden there.
To know him
You must seek his infinity.

Faith is part of that awareness,
But it must not close your mind.
God is more than we can comprehend,
Be complete in His serenity.

© 2012 Wasted Space Publishing

i.

Look at me.
What do you see?
That isn’t me.

Look again.
You see the man.
You don’t see what’s within.

Listen to my words.
Their call for accord.
A mask of sorts.

Listen to my meaning.
Its call for healing.
Hidden in manufactured feeling.

Taste the emotion.
Your heart all motion.
Fulfilling a function.

Taste the sweetness,
Of life and loneliness.
A mirror or something less.

Feel the tug on your soul.
Recreating something old.
Something you think I told.

Feel the fire in your mind.
Fanned by what I helped you find.
Something that was never mine.

But behind this sensory onslaught
Is what I’d like to introduce you to.

ii.

Openess:
Closed to all intruders.
Yearning:
Hidden by many masks
In this masque of life.
In this dumb-show.
In this rehearsal.
Where we play a part and grasp at words.

Openess:
Peaking out from under.
Yearning:
Permeating every task.
In this masque called life.
In this stage show.
In this curtain call.
Where the part conceals depth below the surface.

Openess:
Confined and torn asunder.
Yearning:
Arranging the pieces of fact.
In a proper masque without life.
In a play without drama.
In a comedy without humor.
Where each part is just a taste of the tragedy.

Openess:
Revealing unknown plunder.
Yearning:
Rich in what I lack.
In this masque of life.
In this movie madness.
In this final scene.
Where some parts make you feel eternity,

Beyond the sensory onslaught.
Deep inside the masque.

© 2012 Wasted Space Publishing