Read. Write. Repeat. Aspire to be a Janitor.
The river softly slept beneath the covers
of her eyes with a tender touch caressing
all of my hidden little lies inside
the turning of my tongue; so dear,
please clear the bed we made that burns
so bright, lighting up the countryside
exposing every single crevice in the trunk
we carved our names into last night.
I tried so hard to push aside and see
the world through reason, but the seasons
kept on slipping through the door, crowding
the cedar coffee table with Penthouse periodicals
and useless tools we used to patch
our hearts together when they were
pulling at the seams- absurdly dripping
with emotion so we threw ourselves
into the ocean whose constant motion stirred
the cocktail given to Tristan while
Isolt turned the boat away
from shore and opened up the core
of the apple Adam ate while Eve
was giving birth to our Once and Future King.
Let the cowards sleep instead of speak
their simple minds and hide your shadow
behind painted crooked lines beside
the ticking second hand that steals
my time before my eyes have the chance
to steal once more glance at the mirror
of my soul. Like a salesman at your door,
I tried to sell myself to you for not
a single penny more than a cleverly stated word
in the middle of a phrase I wrote
to instill a sense of awe and trap your
hand inside of mine so we may draw
an outline of a smile on the corners
of a page perfectly arranged like
your face on top of a picture perfect
memory for when you leave.
For when you leave, I will climb
into my tomb with its satin covered
walls and sleep far past the breaking
of the dawn as it crawls and creeps
until dusk when my skin is palled in dust.
For when you leave, my pen will fail,
though I will try- to no avail, to write,
and dream, and sing these songs from
inside of Jonah’s giant whale.
My muse, do not confuse my whispers
in your ears for forced sweet nothings
as I look at you through tears, but know
that when I wrap my arms around your body,
it’s to cast away your fear and I know
that I don’t know when to let go.
Bridging the Ecclesial, the Academic, and the Political
"Surely I am more stupid than any man, And I do not have the understanding of man. Neither have I learned wisdom. But, the knowledge of the Holy One--that I know." Proverbs 30:2-3
Because poetry. And petals.
Manhood, Marriage, and Family From a Biblical Perspective
A modest attempt at thinking with assertive criticism.
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from Morgan Bradham
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.