Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Hoops for Jumping

You taught me how to shoot hoops since I was two

Love the game it’s just what our people  do

Early morning in that cold church wood floor court

Ball bounces the words we spoke

Wasn’t the best, but I made the team

8th grade, locker room full of steam

Why do I look at my friends that way

Quick look down, who knows what they’ll say

I learned all the loves from the family

To drive and dish and be so manly

But the details started emerging

What’s this feeling? What’s this yearning

His name was clark and he had a dark tanned back

Smile so sweet, and not an ounce of fat

When I defended him it was so very nice

Locker room sweat was my favorite spice.

What kind of freak am I with this feeling

What are these creepy glances that I’m stealing

If I would just make out with that chick named Kelly

The the flow’r would grow inside my belly

How couldn’t I see what I was inside

How did my young mind know what to hide

How was I ignorant of what I was

Staring in class at his awesome buzz

High school came, lettered in Football Hoops and track

Pres of the school, was joe cool, that’s a fact

After I graduated came the fall

When I realized the meaning of it all.

So I just like guys, like they like girls

Seems so nasty, breaks all the rules

But it fits right into my story

At least I found out before I’m forty

Years later I’m still full of the self hate

Decades and I still haven’t done a date

Is it training or some holy call

That keeps me standing counting stalls

I don’t know what to do, or where to turn to

Dad taught me all the rules but I burn to

Have a friend, a pal, and prime confidant

The memories still at night haunt.

Have I thrown enough days away

Are there games still to learn to play

Ladders to run on an cold gym floor

Workout with music until I’m sore.

This is halftime.   I don’t know where I’ll

End up next quarter, it may be foul

What game is this that I’ve been playing

Which coach to listen to what they’re saying

This is half time I don’t know where I’ll

End up next quarter, it may be foul

Which game is it that I’ve been playing

What coach should I listen to what they’re saying

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Four Corners

Four corners enclose the world. A swath of wood grain is the ground.
Here i die, but am safe. Here i steal, but am innocent. Here i lie, but my honor remains.
I seek your destruction, but remain your friend.
Outside these corners is different. The rule book vague. Do i make eye contact as they pass?
Do i say Hello to the one my heart latches to? Am i too eager? Am i not committed? Outside
the corners judgment is longer than a day and half the time rendered with secret verdict, of laws
I suppose it's an adventure. But you begin to write your own rules, the ones that seem to make
sense, then they are broken, by someone who hadn't read them. No book to appeal to.
Outside the corners is dangerous.
But here i am. Tuesday night, and the corners protect once again.
I own the world. I made you laugh. I made a poor trade.
But I always know what i should be doing. And failure is never final.
I know the four corners will only last so long. Someday the population will be 1. But here i am
safe. Here i am loved. Here my purpose is clear.
His name was Logan. We met. I didn't know what to do. We were outside the corners. Dice
rolls are much more dangerous here. Suddenly, i had a goal . To make him my best friend.
In the corners you throw all your resources into accomplishing your goal. Outside, you cannot.
But i did. At first it was fine. The rules in his book seemed to go along with mine. But i was
ignoring mine.
Guidance after guidance i disregarded. I did not want to worry about the resources poured into
this. I did not want to worry about what else i was letting lay fallow.
My goal was him.
I didn't catch him. He was uncatchable. Our winning conditions did not align. My winning
condition was impossible.
He had a girl in his sights.
Well, maybe, he will be ok with my odd winning conditions.
I lost. He left. 6 months of silence.
Then we chatted again. A new rules book was written. He had my heart, but i would proscribe
outer actions of love.
I would follow the rules, silently agreed upon.
And the friendship is good.
Sometimes i think of the pain i had when he left.
Sometimes i think of the pain of not knowing my winning condition.
Sometimes i think of the solace i find in those four corners. Where for a moment purpose
becomes clear. Where for a moment, i don't have to wonder what book to follow. where i am

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Lil' Dark Eyes

No one fears those dark, little eyes those dark chocolate eyes, those dark talking eyes

No one fears your bright little eyes 
Full of life and joy

No one stops those dark little eyes, those dark probing eyes, those dark darting eyes 

No one stops those dark puppy eyes as you walk in through the door

No one thought those dark sullen eyes, those dark shifty, eyes those dark evil eyes

No one thought those dark killing eyes would leave bodies on the floor

No one caught those dark baby eyes, those dark trusting eyes, those dark toddler eyes.  

No one caught those dark demon eyes as you play with other boys

Monday, October 10, 2016

A Poem for the Dark

The bodies scurry away,
They think it's a game they're about to play,
They find a hole in which to hide,
Quietly, the innocent abide.
The demon-thief will take from them,
The mother's dreams--what might have been,
Their stifled giggles would not emit,
If their stalker's face were lit.
But have a final laugh little
Ready or not, here i come.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Dead Man Walking

I thought I saw you today

The naked profile of smooth head

It looked like you walking my way

The massive jowls hung like yours

But your joyful maw was not what I saw but a cold mistrustful face

At once I knew it could not be you for there was kindness in your wake.

You've been gone for so long that my mind ought to have sorted out

That the men passing by have yet to die so marking one as you is out

But the hole in my soul still pulls quick sand in.

And will never be filled til after I'm killed and high five your paw once again.

I let him pass by this impostering guy   And paid him no further mind

But the memories of you painfully joyful and true are the unyielding kind


The stone slab is waiting. It's surface empty.   I deposit my relationship on it.   But I do not light the fire.     Here God.  I give it to you.   I cannot read my feelings well enough but I trust in how I was raised.  So while I do not kill this sweet tender caring relationship I leave it here on the alter for you.   I leave a tender embrace after a trial.  I leave the first "good morning" of  day as well as the evening's final "good night". I leave the strength of two.  I leave the comfort of belonging.  I leave unity.  I leave the kiss.  I leave rough housing and playful pranks.  I leave comedy with an audience of two.  I leave a partner in old age. I leave a lovers eulogy.  I leave it all for you.  

 You may burn it  or you may return it.

I leave.  I do not wait your decision.  You know where to find me.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

One Last trip to the cabin

I remember when Will came out a gay across the pulpit in church.   I think the room was silent for 15 seconds, the congregation  stunned that this all American boy was homosexual, and Will, like an astronaut taking his first step onto the lunar surface, in a  new place, and he wasn't sure how to react.

I caught up with Will after the meeting, he was surrounded by well wishers, which no one thought was odd, but should have been, seeing what was normally taught across the pulpit.   There was a dissonance there, that couldn't stop our love for him, but would never leave him.

Our pastor compared Will's situation to a paraplegic in a wheel chair.  He sees others having fun, living life, but he can't get up and run.   The irony was not lost on my.   We asked Will to sit in that chair.   We told him he could not get out.   Why should we be surprised what happened when he did.

The drive to Will's family's cabin was long, and simplifying.  We started on a 8 lane high way, gradually it became four, then two.   Asphalt gave way to gravel.  An old cattle gate kept hunters and ATV's out.

Will was hot and cold as usual.   One minute he had us, Ryan, Josh and I, rolling in laughter, then he'd retreat into his deep sunk eyes.   I don't know if he spent more time in virtual isolation than normal that trip.  If he did, I didn't notice.  It was just normal for him.  Hot and cold.  Prone to outlandish humor with a waiter, and then stuttering when you asked him to change the radio.

But he always planned great adventures.

It was our last trip before school started and tests, and studying and girls,   For the three of us at least,  I hadn't seen Will date, boys or girls. But he was a great bro, always down for adventure, and sports.  I think he thought that would be enough.  I think we all though it would help him in his unique situation.

"Welcome to the Brohaus," Will exclaimed as we pulled into the wooded lot, that bordered the lake.  "No jobs, no school, no women, am I right?"

We all agreed and got to the work of emptying the old ford bronco that had been our loyal steed on the journey thus far.

Later that night, the campfire was roaring, the Dutch oven was empty save the crumbs of cobbler still clinging to the side, Will disappeared for a bit, as he was wont to do.

I think he was down by the lake for 30 minutes are so, as the three of us found more and more things to burn.

"Hey, guys, Check this out."

Will brought a large jug.

"Is that what I think it is?  Josh said.

"Oh my gosh, you brought the root beer.   I love it when you make this stuff"

"Yep, Drink up.  No one can go to bed before we drink this all." Will said.

"Dude' we'll be peeing all night"

"You know the window in the bedroom opens right?"

"Haha ok cool."

And the imbibing began, as much as some tee totaling Christians can imbibe.  it was a great batch.  Enough anise, molasses and honey to both have the bite and be sweet.

I blacked out.  I don't remember what happened next.  Ryan was still able to see, even though most of what he was was blurry, like a dream.

None of the three of us could move.  Will moved around with precision.  He drug us into the house, and lay us all in the beds.  Ryan said he stared at us for what seemed like hours, but in his state of numbness he couldn't be sure.

Will said things, to us.  Ryan couldn't understand it.  Several teams Will would walk up, and stand right by someone on the bed.  And just stare.

Ryan blacked out.

We came to the next day, I had the worst headache ever.  Ryan told us what he had seen.   We never saw will again.    Someone, most likely him had taken an ax to the living room and kitchen, wrecking the place.  The Ford was still in the parking lot.  We looked for him for hours.  Then his family, the congregation, and many volunteers.

I don't know what happened to my friend Will.   I like to think got up from the chair and walked away to some happiness.  But part of me thinks we'd find him at the bottom of the lake, still resting in the chair.