Saturday, 22 October 2016

Morning is the rearview to newfound roads

This is what happens when your shadow
A bottle of cheap rum
& the stillness left over by strange women
Who once walked your periphery for money & warmth
Are the only things left to your hands to hold
I'll tell you
You pick up your sticks
& if they do not vomit fire
You pick up your stones
Leave the devil in you to his loneliness
& woes
Leave him to his grief
It is true you're often a rainy day
But it's okay to enjoy the slap of sunlight on your face
Wear your empty pockets - like your scars - inside out
Let them french the wind until money unseals its lips
Healing is but the cry of a newborn baby
So let the pain outweigh the pride
Do not follow Jesus
Be Jesus
Walk on water
Then turn it to wine
Laughter - however lonely - should be road marks
Leading you into dance
You're more than that wild thing stuck between god's teeth

9 comments:

  1. Oh, wow. I need to reblog this at Ark of Identity. Deeply honored, my friend, that "Anchorhold" provided some of the inspiration for this beautiful piece of writing. *grateful*

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    1. You know this is how we roll ma'am.

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  2. this is wonderful!! "pick up your sticks" "pick up your stones" 'do not follow Jesus/ be Jesus" ""Wear your empty pockets - like your scars - inside out"--certainly we are more than something stuck between god's teeth!!! Every line here surprises and rings true!!

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  3. "Be Jesus
    Walk on water
    Then turn it to wine"

    Aha Aha Aha!!

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  4. This is amazing man. Beautifully written. 👏👏

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