Taking life in order to give it
in the name of your bloodline
and name sake.

A genetic legacy,
trampling choice,
putting out the fire
of true love.

Thousands dead every hour
still you conceive more;
selfish pursuit.

Don’t say you care
because you spent
2 weeks in
a city.

Prove it.

Control your loins.

Care for existence.
Not nonexistence.


The Fear of God

Dear God, why should I think You’re good in a world that’s falling apart?
The flags and lies, picket signs raised high, the endless enveloping dark
Now here we sit, drifting further from You, two thousand years on their way out
Now here I am, as I’ve grown to know You, still haunted by my fears and my doubts

Just a man, just a vapor, just a waste of your space
All the good that I’ve done is in spite of myself
I’m not sure that I can look You in Your face when I finally set foot in Your kingdom

Dear God, what went wrong? We hate ourselves, we hate our brother
We so desperately want to find our way, and all You say is “love one another”

And little babies starve to death, emaciated, out of breath
Unfaithful wives make vows untrue, husbands beat them black and blue
Junkies vomit in the streets, writhing, twitching in their skin
Sell themselves to die some more, rotting from the outside in
Parents steal the innocence from their children, scared and shaking
Drink away the guilt at night, brings quiet to the endless aching
And evil men boast on TV, swimming in a sea of wealth
While misery beds honest men, and lonely people kill themselves
And everyone cries out Your name, as the world is raped by selfishness
And no one knows the way to heaven, we only know the emptiness
And the storm it rages in my heart, and the endless empty roars in my ears
My world is coming all apart, I’ve no strength left to dry my tears
And through it all I hear Your voice, breaking my heart, breaking my will
Calms the storm inside my soul as You whisper “peace, be still…”

You place Your hands around my heart, You quiet the emptiness in me
A king that kneels, a God made a servant, You set the captives free
You wait for me, a wretch of a man, no record of wrongs do You keep
You are comfort when I mourn, You are strength when I am weak
Jesus Christ, the king of kings
Though we ache, though we cry, never break, never die
We sing of His great love again and again
And His love reigns forever, and forevermore
Forever and ever, Amen

This song is probably one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. I can’t stop listening to it.

Song written and recorded by the musical group Showbread. I hold no rights to this song or lyrics.


Another man with a cloudy head
Wants to go somewhere,
doesn’t know where.
Traveling all the time,
no destination in sight.
Foreign feelings fill his lungs
as he treads along new valleys,
ruminating on old.

Too caught up in past experience
to embrace his here and now.
Is it really his to claim?
Made for community
not isolation.

Thriving on the inspiration of others’,
he seeks to be known by knowing.
Pursuing a love
pursuing a hate
relationship with his own selfish thoughts.
Letting go in order to hold on
seeking to understand himself and his god.

He just wants to be loved,
to have love
to give love.
He just wants god.


Fixed or Broken?

They fixed your brain when you were young
Long before you were born
Sought to bring about the ideal
without your say.
They fixed your brain when you were young
Long after you were born
Reinforced by those around you love
and who love you.

Break it.

May: A Second Look

The introduction to the introduction to the interlude
But oh, I can’t stand to wait
Let me sit
and ruminate
On what could and could not be
All direction is a misdirection
I’ll forgive the signs that got me here
Because I am here
(Not there)

Movement: a conflagration of confused forward motions
Vulnerability: standing naked before the mirror
constructed by everyone I know and I fear

Anxiety: how fragile it is after all
Hope: how worth it is after all
even if it falls apart, it’s a mess worth making

Life: oh dear.
I’m here.
Although I fear –
You’re here.
We’re here.

Be still.

Silent Violence

Your silence is your violence,
it’s beating in the face of their victims.
You’re no better than the perpetrators,
you and you’re inaction.
Take the time to be still,
if it produces movement.
If piety leads to sacrifice,
call me a heretic
and let me be merciful.