Hymnal

Tell me your stories about revival

I want to hear them all

About you slain out in the spirit

about the fires on the wall.

Sundays haven’t done that for me

I’m still a stranger about to fall

Oh, can you tell me why

the light looks dim and I’m so small?

Tell me your stories about revival

I want to hear them all

About the hope from the altar

And the devil’s brawl.

I’ve seen your conviction

and the aisles turned dance hall

But damn, it’s so hard

To feel hope through it all.

Tell me your stories about revival

how you’ve prayed for the call

threw your cigarettes in the trash

and committed to the long-haul.

I won’t get to church this Sunday

but I’ll still play tetherball

with a body that’s fragile

and tangled in the drawl.

Eleven

Life knocked and waited 

delayed breath – a boy! 

You nearly fainted. 

Breathe in health;

Breathe out fear. 

We chanted loudly

for only three to hear. 

Look at us now; we made it. 

Mom and Dad and Townes

for nothing could it be traded. 

Breathe in health;

Breathe out fear.

Together, always – 

another year. 

On Tour

A boy, a mole, a fox and a horse: the recipe for a Christmas bestseller |  Books | The Guardian
@charliemackesy

The track moves straight,

it’s headed out from here.

You can’t turn back,

to relive the years.

So go on slow

and steady,

but don’t forget

where you’re headed.

I’ll come along with you

until your ready.

I’ll go along with you –

as long as you’ll let me.

 

signiture

Through the Miles

pattperry

Sometimes – I think –

I’ve nearly found you

but my memory is fooled

by washed images that drew

from faces it never knew.

 

Can you tell me –

Which part of you I should search for

as the lost characteristics accrue

with ever voice I hear

that isn’t you?

 

Is it a song? A touch?

A look or a smile?

I’d like to think I’d find you –

even through the miles.

 

signiture

 

daughters

Father blog

 

If I had enough memories to remember

I’d string them together with falsehoods of you.

Each moment, a thread, woven snippets of truth

with transient hems for your light to shine through.

A new image, a father, a friend.

If only by imagination –

I’d create to mend.

 

signiture

 

Erased

Artwork by Jennis Li Cheng Tien

Do you believe in corporeal love?

I ask as you rhyme and feign

appreciation for those you’ve crossed

in love or pain.

 

Whether built from rebellion or rushed affection

You swear to me blindly

There’s a spark, a connection.

 

But you’ve never found your place

in the barriers, restraints

That torment and harrow

until you’re soon erased.

 

A societal spirit that falls

for false elation in a worn out play

where desire is shunted, loyalty praised.

 

What freedom to float with you

amidst that modern plain

where names are not marred

in a celestial vein.

 

Where love is captured,

breathed in and soared.

Rushed between every crevice

unleashed, enjoyed.

 

signiture

 

 

Brim

Related image

How does this heart bend and mould

from a confined chest

into a hand to hold.

 

Does it move by one accord

or with a riotous play that

leaves you scorned?

 

Will it travel back and stray again?

I’ve heard trough time all pain will mend.

 

But can I stop the rampant rush?

The heat, the lush, the mush and guts.

 

I pushed it back, I clinched it tight.

I begged that demon not to fight.

 

But it’s still —

hovering.

Slowing seeping into my skin

rushing out at every brim.

 

signiture

New York Beauty

NY Beauty

In the center of me is happy

colored and layered and taut.

Like the first stitch in a scrim quilt

pulled through layers of scrap.

“A blithe event!” said one.

It is indecorous.

“We’ll need tulips for proof!”

Tack them loose.

“Stitch here with yellow!” said the little bee.

Whiplash is best.

“I have blue. Should I put that in, too?”

On the Gambesons.

“No! Layer on layer of happy!” the little bees circled.

“Until we craft who you are!”

And who I am Not.

 

signiture