Oh God, my God, I sit in abject fear
Of what my future holds and how and why.
Is China just a dream to be remembered
Fondly once before I sigh and die?

I cannot bear the burden of these waters–
Their sameness as I tread and tread and tread.
Can you not see I’m sore and nearly drowning?
Is this to be my final water bed?

Look, look upon the one you call beloved;
Act fast before I sink beneath the waves.
You are Jehovah-Jireh, my provider–
Oh Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, oh “He saves!”

I see how you have moved within the waiting
When I had left the mount of Covenant.
I seek the hope of life for Lazarus;
May I return a living revenant.

Oh faithful God from age to age the same,
My trusting soul can cry out, “It is well!”
For you are not a stranger to my sorrow,
But here, right here, with me: Immanuel.

Honor’s Opposite

Eyes averted, diverted gaze
Cheeks churn red and ruddy heat
Head hangs low
Hands hang limp
Heart beats nervous beat


Photo by Andrew Fosker

Achilles Heel

From within, they said
Only I doubted this truth–
Real strength should show, right?
Twelvepack of muscles
In full high definition
Toned to perfection,
Until I learned how
Demigods can atrophy:
Even silver rusts.


P.S. There’s strength in numbers.  Here’s my other fortitude acrostic: Only Elite Belong

P.P.S. Don’t get mad at me for using the laymen’s definition of rust rather than the scientific.  I’m a poet, okay?


Your hands, humming hurricanes of beauty,
A windmill whirring wonders down my spine;
Now softer like a fern’s adolescent tendrils
And subtly warm like a lightbulb through lampshade.

Your hands are hammocks, swaying soothing rhythms,
A tide approaching under crescent moon;
All pinching tension vanishes in season
And peace decends like a queen at royal ball.

Wordcoaster’s Wednesday Workshop #1

I’m trying something new.  I hope that this idea is as exciting to other poetry bloggers as it is to me.  I want to offer a space to link poems that are at any stage of the writing process.  Perhaps they’re done, but there just seems to be something slightly off about them.  It can be helpful to have someone else take a look and offer feedback.  Week to week we might focus on different topics, but regardless of the focus there will always be the opportunity to link a poem or two that you want looked over.

It might be helpful to leave a comment if you’re looking for specific insights.

Links open every Wednesday at 2:30pm EST and remain open until Friday at 3:00pm EST.


  • Limit two links per person.
  • Don’t just link and run!  Visit and comment on at least one other blog.
  • Keep comments polite, but do share critiques.  Constructive criticism is what we’re after.
  • This is a weekly event.  You may continue to workshop the same poem(s) for as long as you’d like.
  • If possible, please turn off captcha for comments.  Reading squiggly numbers and questionably capitalized letters is not everyone’s favorite pasttime.
  • Have fun!  I command it!

The Wisdom of the Ground

Sometimes when overwhelmed
With high-mindedness
And raised eyebrows,
With swirling smog
That fills the sky,
That spews from smokestacks,
Billows high–
Freakshow philosophies,
Unhinged from their original ideas:
Kant incantations,
Kierkegaard creations,
Platonic placations,
Camus/Voltaire vacillations–
Learn from the ground;
Look down.

Directly inspired by


The needle meets the thread
And shaking hands
They lock their gazes
Exchanging glances
Start their dances
A wandering maze
To raise the dead.

I Come From Da Future (And We Don’t Have Flying Cars)

We Have Twitter

Dear me, yes it’s me, yes you know who I am,
So listen up close, don’t say zip, shut your clam–
The future is coming and it’s coming fast,
But here’s a few tips for myself in the past:

Mime Rhyme

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Because Russ L asked

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