Truth (n)

Truth, San Francisco

I made a wall built out of TRUTH.

I chose the best bricks, celebrated by architects and hooligans.

I used the strongest mortar, to defend against any lies.

I used the richest paint for clarity.

And still, it crumbles slowly.

Already, the bricks are no longer celebrated.

Already, the mortar has begun to wear.

The paint is peeling and fading.

Already, this wall is a useless obstruction.

Already this language is a barrier

Of my desperate attempt to understand eternal truths.

I would do anything.

Just tell me how to build a wall of truth.

Out of God’s honest, reliable.

Wounded Love

Verletzte Liebe
This nail means you’ve died.
That blood disease took you
From this Earth
From your family
From me.

The scars on these stones will never heal.
But some day
With enough wind,
And sun,
And rain,
It will become a foothold for life.

A new life.
Not yours.
You, my beautiful boy, are never coming home again.

I don’t drive this nail into rock with anguish
My sadness doesn’t plant it here.
The memory of you isn’t strong enough.
I drive it with a fury
And passion
At the thought of how many days
Lay before us.
I would erase those days and join you
Now.

But I know what you’d say. I know what you’d want.
To live my days and find happiness again.
And I couldn’t bear to face you not having done that.
So you’ll forgive me if
Right now
I hate you.
And use that hate to drive this nail into stone
And hopefully, the remove the nails
In my heart as well.

Let Me Run Across That Jagged Horizon

Let me run across that jagged horizon.
Let me chase the dying sun.
I want to swallow cold air.
I want to slip on ice.
Scrape my knees on the granite.
Let my teeth taste the snow.
I will use the ropes of my guts to climb her.

All your talk of liberty is a prison.
This is freedom, and it will be mine.