The Preacher comes to visit us
A dozen times a week.
He comes so bless-ed often,
And Lordy does he speak!
At night or noon or morning
You’ll likely find him there;
Screaming out his warning
Astride the Preacher’s Chair.

The Preacher’s Chair is empty
When the Preacher ain’t around.
Grandpa used to sit there
‘Fore the Preacher came to town.
But the Preacher’s got the recipe
For emptying that seat –
Don’t tell the Preacher ‘bout your sins,
He knows when to repeat!

The Preacher talks to Jimmy –
How he lectures to that lad!
Tells him that he’ll go to Blazes
‘Cause he’s been so bad.
But Mama thinks that Jimmy,
He’s been good beyond compare.
And someday when the Preacher’s gone
He’ll fill the Preacher’s Chair.

The Preacher’s Chair is gone now,
But it’ll soon be back.
The Preacher still comes all the time,
And Lordy does he yack!
Now when the Preacher needs to sit,
He can do it anywhere.
‘Cause Jimmy spread a *** of glue
Upon the Preacher’s Chair!

Long ago I left the shade.
I had to have the sun.
I meant to take you with me,
But I left you behind.
The sunlight made me blind.

For a time it was fantastic:
My every word recorded,
My every thought revealed.
Accustomed to the light,
You faded from my sight.

But the newness has worn off.
The excitement has gone by.
Charred and blackened by the sun,
Having thought I had it made,
I seek shelter in the shade.

At the edge, they keep me out.
They want me in the light.
My eyes can’t find you in the shade.
Loneliness propels me on.
Help me back before the dawn.

I was once an ant.
Timid. Afraid.
Blindly rushing about with no purpose.

Then it happened.

I was once a stone.
Ignorant of my surroundings.
Achieving nothing.

Now…

Now I soar with the wind,
     and look down on the stars.
Now I stride across oceans,
     and mountains stand aside.

I am in love.

I get these sudden urges.
(urges, urges, urges, urges)
To go howling at the moon.
(at the moon, at the moon)
This tendency emerges.
(merges, merges, merges, merges)
Feel it comin’ very soon.
(very soon, very soon)

My body structure changes.
(changes, changes, changes, changes)
Bushy hair sprouts from my face.
(from my face, from my face)
My whole being rearranges.
(ranges, ranges, ranges, ranges)
My teeth, deadly fangs replace
(fangs replace, fangs replace)

I gobble up small children.
(children, children, children, children)
Leave adults a ****** mess.
(****** mess, ****** mess)
My habits are bewild’rin’.
(wildrin, wildrin, wildrin, wildrin)
My actions they can’t guess.
(they can’t guess, they can’t guess)

I live as one of you do.
(you do, you do, you do, you do)
‘Til the full moon starts to rise.
(starts to rise, starts to rise)
Then I venture forth to get you.
(hunt you, find you, rend you, **** you)
I may take you by surprise.
(by surprise, by surprise)

Came a badger name of Tyler
be a-knockin’ at the door.
Sellin’ brushes from the marshes
he be scrubbin’ on the floor.

Dumps a bushel full of garbage
to be showin’ how they work.
Bendin’ over pail of water
he be scrubbin’ until dark.

He be done in half a minute
he be sayin’ as he goes.
I can tell he be a-lyin’
by the growin’ of his nose.

Comes the Missus from the kitchen
seein’ badger, brush, and pail,
Garbage soakin’ into carpet
she can’t help but start to wail.

Grabs the shotgun from the closet,
shoots the badger in the head.
Takes the body to the kitchen…
Badger soup and homemade bread.

She rises golden from the water
The current cradles her memory
Her name echoes in the depths
And is whispered in the shallows

She moves with grace through nature
Which is bettered by her presence
And depleted by her passing
The animals bow down
And stand silent once she’s gone

She is Artemis, Athena
She is Helen bathed in starlight
She’s the west wind from the desert
Bringing promise, bringing change

Mania
I love the world
The sky so blue above my head
The colors of the splendrous dawn
To live is fun
I’m happy as a man could be

Depression
The world is dead
My life’s a mess, I can’t go on
I want to die
I think I’ll go and get a gun
To take my life away from me

Splice of the Manic-Depressive*
I love the world
The world is dead
The sky so blue above my head

My life’s a mess, I can’t go on
The colors of the splendrous dawn

I want to die
To live is fun
I think I’ll go and get a gun

I’m happy as a man can be
To take my life away from me

Some things must be spoken
They cannot be contained
Confined to the page
Or worse
Never released as words

Some ideas should be shared
Far too big for one to lock away
And keep concealed
At risk
Of being buried with their keeper

Some rivers overflow their banks
Unbounded by the past
Too much too fast
Seeking
New paths, new hope, new life

We are wading in a steam:
Some near the center
In the rushing current
Bravely standing, stumbling
Sometimes falling
Carried forward

Leaving those behind
Who are in the shallows
Clinging to branches
That reach out protectively
Impeding progress
Safe, but still

Sometimes the current
Overtakes those who embrace it
And dismiss its mad danger —
Only to fall beneath the surface
And never rise again

In the shallows, some relax their grip
And let the current take them
Slow at first, then faster
Alive, joyful
But angry that they waited for so long to let go

Most never leave the shallows
Still holding tight
Or worse, decide to seek
The cold solace of the riverbank
This time, this time
They find it

Once I was abandoned in a nursing home
Trapped in a failing body
Surrounded by confusion and fear
Living my days
Memories fading
Those around me dying, one by one
Numbly waiting for the end

Once I was lonely and alone on the playground
Each day — excluded, friendless
Acting busy doing nothing
Praying for the bell to call us back to class
Knowing that the teacher, at least
Pretended we were all equal

Once and again, I was beaten, abused
Covering up, making excuses:
Just a bad day. He’s not really like that.
It will get better. Maybe if I try harder.
Stay together for the children.
Until the day it goes too far

Once I was waiting for the train
Feeling powerless, unloved
Certain no one cared
The present unbearable, the future worse
Finding no point in living
The train approaches and I take that final step

Once I lived poor in an undeveloped country
Ignored by an ineffective and corrupt government
Watching disease take my children
Talk of a better life — just so much empty air
Stretching what little food I could get
Beyond hope
Simply existing

Once I didn’t fit someone else’s definition of normal
My hair, my clothes
My sexuality
Unthreatening, but threatened for being different
Brave, but so exposed, so afraid
If it were a choice, I would choose the easier path
I can’t change who I am

Once I was looking for a job, a way out
But opportunities were unavailable
Because of my race, my gender
Those who mistakenly believe
That minorities ‘get all the breaks’
Will never understand
The impossibly tall mountain
That we view from the bottom

Once I was slowly dying
Fading away
Whispers in the hall
My family full of tears, but already moving on
My friends avoiding me — not knowing what to say
Living my remaining days like a ghost
With one word on my lips —
Unfair!

Once I lived on the streets of a large city
Cold, tired, hungry
Sleeping on cardboard, digging through garbage
Not fully sure how I got here
People pass
To them I’m nothing
But I know how small and easy the step is
From their lives
To mine

If I gave you an hour
Would you spend it
On inconsequential nothings
Thinking it too short to do something worthwhile

If I gave you a day
Would it pass you by so quickly
That tomorrow looking back
You would wonder where it went

If I gave you a year
Would it fade into the stream of your existence
Just another fleeting summer
One more sure step toward death

If I gave you a lifetime
Would you, looking back
Wish for an hour, a day, a year
A lifetime – another chance
To make it worthwhile, to do it right

Love is an endless plummet into a dim but sparkling chasm
Hand in hand
Trusting the other to hold on tight and not let go
The destination less important than the journey

Love is a favorite novel, worn from use
Delightful and comforting
Each passage familiar, but with details missed or unremembered
Savoring each line, but eager to turn the page for what comes next

Love is a mad dash at the carnival
From ride to ride to ride
As many as we can before the lights go out and the fair closes
Out of breath, still smiling, long after the music fades from memory

Love is a timeless summer evening
The sun setting so slowly, it seems to hang in the sky, unmoving
Casting its copper light – embers visible well after the heat dies away
Until the welcoming night reaches its fingers to guide us home

There is a worrisome hole in the fence —
The cold wall that protects me
And keeps others at a safe distance
Providing me with much-needed comfort, protection

I am not fully certain how the hole came to be
Some hidden insecurity; some subtle vulnerability
Some forgotten place, long neglected

Keeping the fence whole is an arduous task

When such unforgivable holes appear
I work quickly to mend them
But they are like purposeful trails in the forest
Well worn by constant use

Even if I succeed, and patch the hole
Another will quickly spring up nearby
Dutifully serving the same purpose

Further, while my back is turned in effort, resolute, focused
Another, and another
Small at first – flaws barely seen
Unnoticed
But relentlessly growing over time

And at that first tragic breech
Once an untried hole allows its first reckless passage
Word spreads
And the brutal pressures from outside
Find their way in