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


  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*

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

  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!!

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

    Aha Aha Aha!!

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