pop's poetry

Year: 2006

  • jesus in the front yard

    A man’s house is huge
As is his truck
His job is steady
As are his paychecks
His equity is growing
As is his waistline

His life reeks of success.
A smell others loathe

He’s over housed
Over booked
Over taught
Over read
Over sold
And almost dead
To what is really going on
And that which really matters

It’s not one more hundred in his wallet
Given hastily as the plate passes.
It’s not one more check mailed away
To some foreign country he won’t visit
Much less pronounce
Or touch
Or really affect

Jesus was in the man’s front yard this morning
And the man asked Jesus why he let people suffer
Jesus looked at his house
At his truck
At his wallet
At his waistline
Smiled a sad smile
And walked away

  • deep red scream

    the deep red scream
silent as the darkest night
it cuts through the thin veil
letting anguish flow
like a stream released
filling a nameless ocean

the deep red scream
no one hears the pain
it cuts everyone it touches
letting doubt flow
like a river released
filling a bottomless ocean

the deep red scream
drawn from the deafening silence
it opens never-healing wounds
letting fury flow
like a torrent released
filling a lifeless ocean

the deep red scream
a desperate stillness follows
it suffers the drops that fall
letting sleep come
or at least a kind of release
to push the wave upstream

repeat