Apocalypse

I always have these dreams where Katie and I are saving the world from zombies or aliens or breaking into secret governmental facilities to disarm nuclear bombs, and there’s always this great, epic symphony blaring in my head, and I think if we ever actually do those things,

That’s EXACTLY what I’ll have playing on my ipod.

A beginning, of sorts:

I need some motivation. I’ve only written one poem in the past two years…and it wasn’t all that great. I can do better. I should do better. Lately, all I’ve been writing is dry, boring papers for seminary. Oh yeah, I’m in seminary. Long story. Perhaps I’ll do a post about it some day. Anyways, so I write these dry, boring papers where I feel like all I’m saying is what these great theologians have already said, except they do it better. Much better. I hand in my three (supposed to be five) page papers that are pretty much written in crayon, and I think, I need to write some poems. You know, dig deep, get it out, embody here in reality the perfect storm that rages inside. So here I am, entering the blogging world, hoping this helps me to stay motivated, stay focused. I’ve already posted some previous work for your enjoyment. They’re not in chronological order, or any order, really, but I think they are the best I have. So enjoy, loyal readers, because ultimately I’m not a theologian, I’m a poet.

And hula-hoop extraordinaire.

To Einstein

Maybe someday I’ll find myself
In Europe
Some prestigious university
Acquiring my doctorate
While researching
The human condition
And maybe I’ll find myself
Writing articles
Perhaps getting published
In renowned scientific journals
That will provide for mankind
A brighter future
And give me a slot
In the most influential scientists
Of the 21st century
And then one day
When I am old
I’ll be awarded the Nobel prize
For some discovery
That years down the road
Destroys the world

The Heart on My Sleeve

Standing there at attention
In the blinding sun
Sweat dripping down my back
Between my breasts
Slightly shifting from side to side
Inaudible sigh,
Come on I thought
But when it was my turn
And he passed by
I shook his hand
Looked him in the eye
Thank you Sergeant Major
Took the combat patch
And coin
Held them tight in my sweaty hand
Worried it would all slip through my fingers
The coin burning into my palm
Presented for excellence
Whatever that meant
That I was halfway done
That I hadn’t died
That I was almost gone
Put them both at the bottom of a duffel
Forgot about them
Until now
The coin I keep in a little tin box
And the patch,
I wear it on my sleeve

Residual Effects

I still wake sometimes and reach
For my M16
My heart pounding
A lost memory of someone I just couldn’t save
I dream in waves of sand
And sun
Blinding
But no ocean
No boardwalk
Nothing to break up the monotony
Of so much anger
So much fear
So much time that was a lifetime
A whole lifetime ago
And still
After so much time has passed
I can’t quite sleep
And if I do
I’m always reaching out
For a weapon
For a radio
For a lifeline
But if instead I reach for you
I’m only reaching for
The person I used to be

PTSD

They say you never forget the smell of the desert
The way the heat makes your skin crawl
The sand makes your eyes burn
Your heart
They say, even if you come back in ten, twenty, fifty years
Your body will instantly tighten
As if all the years that passed
Couldn’t shake the fear you buried under the grief
Under the anger
Under the indifference
And even at home after all the years that passed
They say your heart still stops at sudden noises
But your eyes
They never blink

Undetermined Coefficients

The conditions must be designated
For a system to contain a constant
Velocity of light perhaps
Maybe gravity
All in a vacuum
A specified state where nothing changes but the day
At the atomic level it may be random
No definite reason, pattern
And none needed
Because it only occurs after billions of events
A law of large numbers
The same sequence, constant in size, duration, speed
Direction
The same slow diffusion of your very being
Out of a hole where something used to be
The same hey-how-have-you-beens
Hashed and rehashed a thousand times
The same false smiles, fake remarks
On how well everything is going
And all you can do is struggle
Against the monotonous repetition of it all
Because you’re locked into an existence that merely rests
Beneath the same sky
The same stars
The same need for something more