If you know me, then you know how much I love spoken word poetry and song lyrics. Creative lyrics–by disparate bands from two different songs separated by three decades–come to mind. In chronological order, the first music group is the American rock band known as The Doors, who everyone has heard of, from Generation Xers…

The effect of the Enlightenment bifurcated not only faith and reason but also imagination and knowledge. “[S]ome philosophers of the Enlightenment thought that image and imagination simply clouded and obscured the pure dry knowledge that they were after” (Guite, Faith, Hope and Poetry, 2). This was done in vast contrast to the age when fables,…

We’ve wandered into the maze of the Minotaur— a chemical chimera that pursues synthetically manufactured routes   deep inside labyrinth folds in our skulls with no way out   where pleasure is the highest good.   “Made” we’re told “to conquer mountains that wait to be subdued.”   Our Maker— the Succor— sovereignly sneezes, washing…

Before there was time, before there were gods, before there were blood sacrifices, before there were written words, Light spoke and split the atom of nothing. Time was dragged into existence, filling empty space. Some call “nothing” chaos, but chaos is disorder, which is something. It’s not even darkness, for darkness is a black top…

Gentle Jesus. Born a King.   You laid in a foul feeding trough, appearing to many as humbly.   O Precious Prince,   you were hunted down and brutally beaten like a lamb led to the slaughter.   O Beautiful Savior,   you were so brave to die for me.   Prior to your divine…

Not your Precious Moments figurines

but sleep-deprived warriors

with holsters for concealer and coffee.

Quick on the draw to conceal lines on their face

and savor the passing whiff of a fresh pot percolate.

“When I was ambitiously young,

looking to grow my Nebu brand

and my Chaldean kingdom,

prophecy struck:

“an invisible hand hewed a rock

from the Mountain

that struck the base of the fountain

that raised to life a statue

with metal alloys and clay parts.

A strap hangs off her missing shoulder—

a pragmatic prostitute at a makeshift bordello

where there are no curfews,

rules or chores

only dark alleys and cardboard boxes

to claim and explore…

If you know me, then you know how much I appreciate understanding why people do the things they do. When I get to know someone’s psychology, I feel closer to the person (for better or for worse). So, here is a tribute to– Actually, I’ll let you figure it out.

Come, touch my lips, my Lord, caress
With flesh the flesh of me;
One mortal morsel and my “Yes!”
Shall make me one with thee.
Come, kiss thee into me.