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Noax Identz Aug 2015
So, what were you in for?
In for too much honesty?
In for getting well enough; or not forgetting well enough?
In for poetry and pottery and ***-err-y?
Or possibly
In for all you could handle, more than enough, and way too much.
Certainly not for kicking doors and bouncing bumpers.
I hope it was a healing exile. There on the inside.
So what are you in for now? There on the inside.
In for going where your help comes from?
In for standing on the solid?
In for leaning into the only One who ever was, and is, and always will be more than enough?
So, what are you out for?
Are you out for good?
Be out for Good.
There is only one Good.
Be out for Him.
He's certainly been out for you.
Love and lifting from a distance.
Nov 2014 · 373
Good News
Noax Identz Nov 2014
I've been off the drugs for 3 months. 
I read that comment, and cried hard.
It was not to me and was not for me,
but nothing could have warmed my
heart more on this howling and frigid
day than reading such good news. It is
just 20 degrees outside but it's Springtime here where I'm sitting.
You are finding your way. Making beauty from ashes. Good news.
Aug 2014 · 652
Circular Defeat
Noax Identz Aug 2014
I stay up through the night
for the
quiet
to make plans
for the
productivity
that I sabotage by staying up through the night
Aug 2014 · 369
387 Days
Noax Identz Aug 2014
You should write
It doesn't matter what or when
If it helps
It was never about a following
So who cares about perfection
The drugs ***** everyone up
Always have
Your heart still beats
That's a blessing
So listen
I marked the calendar at 365 days
Bought a gift
A little silver croc
It's yours but I wear it until you want it
Because it means something
I think of you and beg for greater grace
The better gift and better Giver
Yours when you're ready
You really should write
What I'm trying to say is
If it helps
I would like to see you write
Oct 2013 · 2.0k
Breakfast
Noax Identz Oct 2013
Giant yellow paws tap-dance on the porch
Her fat tail wags so violent you stand clear of the back end
Hip-hop, hip-hop, and an occasional skip
Her whole body shouts "It's time! It's time! Hooray!"
You might think she had never been fed
Except that she is huge
Her half-crazy labrador grin is fixed
She nudges you toward the bowl
Thanks you with a wet nose on clean clothes
Happiness in the morning
Happiness in a 40lb bag
Oct 2013 · 419
Turning
Noax Identz Oct 2013
Turning
Turning
Turning
The calendar pages
The leaves on the trees
The clay in your hands
And maybe, just maybe
The corners of your mouth
And thoughts of the future
Turning
Turning
Turning
There is color at the edges
Life on the wheel
Hope staining the canvas
Joy on the horizon
I can see it.
Can you see it?
Sep 2013 · 1.0k
Love Anyway
Noax Identz Sep 2013
Love
Your neighbor
As yourself
And bear one another's burdens
Unless you are accused of twisted motives
Then vanish
Acquiesce
Be silent

But that's not what He said

So Love
Your neighbor
As yourself
And when you are accused
--and you will be accused--
Love all the more
--Accuser, too--
Cool-clear-glasses-of-water-to-an-enemy more
Hot-heaping-coal-mountains more
Because love still covers a multitude of sins
Sep 2013 · 834
Worlds Collide
Noax Identz Sep 2013
I dreamed that the heart of the ocean shot up into Heaven
******* breath and sleep and sense into the savage void
Tsunami swells of pain and grief pounded ship and shore and sailor
I felt the earth heave, heard the roar, reached out and touched the water
It felt like home
Like a brother, or a son

Then man built a seawall to protect the people
Poured in rubble to dissipate the ocean's rage
Built barricades to hide the sorrow waves and churning waters
Do not swim
          Do not touch
                    Do not grieve
or speak
or be

I wake from the dream with grains of sand beneath my nails
Water streaming from my eyes
Like channels of salt across the pavement
My heart pounds--was that a roar?
I stumble forward, but cannot find the ocean
I reach out, but cannot touch the water
Where is the brother, or son?
I can not swim
          I can not touch
                    But I can grieve
and speak
and be

And this will not last forever
For a friend I almost met and may have hurt.

— The End —