Into the sun

When I was growing up, my dad had a service station, and he would have it open 7 days sometimes 6 days a week. We would get up at 2:30 in the morning.

My brother and I would stay up all night watching old super man and Batman shows on vhs. So we were pretty much useless. I remember there were years my dad was in a bad mood or depressed and then he would get this obsession with church and be in a better mood for a while.

I think about these things a lot now, because even though I was getting up and setting up produce stands on the die of the road back then…

I feel like I understand a little better now,

Working six days a week

Getting up at 2am

Feeling like I never have enough time

Wondering if all I do is obsess over things or ideas or people

Trying to learn the difference between an emotional reality

And a physical reality

Having crohns is weird

Because it doesn’t care

Your body just checks out

I’ve been in pain for three days

And I just keep ignoring it

But I feel like I’m just becoming my father

And I keep shaking it off ….

I keep walking forwards

I have a goal

I have a plan

I have to make it

But what is a dream if it doesn’t come true?

And what am I if I look straight through?

Log 2

Do you remember the house

On the mountain?

I’ve explored a planet

It reminds me of that solitude


Look at how many apps we have

To distract us

To keep us busy


I was never there

Not really

I was never with you


If I were with you



If, huh, I know that sounds like it’s too late ….


You’re like these stars and these moons

You’re my moon and all my stars

I couldn’t take my eyes off you….



Log 1

Space is cold

Its vastness overwhelms the humanity in us …

It doesn’t know how to be gentle

It doesn’t know how to be soft

All of our sins

All of our restlessness

Finds us here


We are, so, so very alone ….

It makes you wonder why we fight among ourselves

I think about how much I’ve failed myself ….

The ways I could have been better…

Probably should’ve been better….


I’m sorry I can’t be with you

I miss you

Your skin

Your lips

The softness of you

The sound of your voice

I know we have recordings

But these don’t replace

Our secret moments

Find me in the dark

I dream of you

And your heartbeat

My head resting against you

That’s you

Your perfume

Your hair



Your hand in my hair

You laughing about something I said


I wish you could see the stars from here

They look so much like your eyes…..

– E

Phantom touch

Today is what would have been another wedding anniversary

And you feel a certain kind of way

You wake up with a pain in your gut

And it’s strange because

None of these things were supposed to matter


It was just a paper

It was just a license

Nothing would have been different


Everything is different

Your body has a phantom memory

Of presents hid away for this day

Of good small memories

Because it was a life that was tangled up together

And you’ve spent a year

Trying to untangle it


You finally pay the lawyer

And sign the paper

And sit at home

You don’t go out

You don’t get drunk

The crowds didn’t help

The distractions didn’t help

The fasting didn’t help

But you just know

That somehow

It’s going to be ok

At some point

You rearrange your furniture

You take some pictures down

You start playing guitar again

You walk your dog

You cook for you and the cat and the dog

You know better now

You are simply


Changing into something you’ve never been

You are becoming

And it hurts

But you know you will live….

You’ve moved

You’ve changed jobs

And this phantom memory

One day


Won’t hurt

The last preacher (Haunted October)

Somewhere in the backwoods

Of Appalachia

Down a dark road

At the end of a zip code

Where internet lines

And WiFi cannot go….

Maybe out there….

Maybe there

There is still an understanding

That there is a faith

That reaches further

Than a hashtag

A faith that started

Way back in a Sunday school

Where you learned how to pray…

Do you remember?

Where you learned about Daniel and the Lions Den

Where you learned about the Apostle Paul…

Meeting God

I’m talking about

Something bigger than a newsfeed

Something bigger than NPR

Something quicker than an APP

I’m talking about something deeper

More moving

Than the current trend

Of pop culture billboard 100


I’m talking about the

Wake you up

In the middle of the night

Because your soul is being drawn to its knees

To pray for your brother

Your children

Because the enemy

The devil

Is come to steal kill and destroy

He is a liar ….

I’m talking about

Something bigger than

The next big thing


God said

“Be not afraid.”

Why would he say that?

Unless there was something to be afraid of?


I’m talking about an understanding

A deep understanding

In your soul

Your bones

A fire

To take back your peace and your home

The devil is a liar

He came to steal kill and destroy

But there is power in the,hashtag?

Self help?

Self work?

New thing?

No this is an old thing

This is a blood that was poured over the alter in heaven

This is a blood that understands

The earth will be cast away

It will be burned

This is all temporary

But this is something

That will raise you to stand up

And take back what’s yours




The suicides

The overdoses

The depressions

The lies

The lies

The lies


He didn’t say


If you could just start another group

Another support group



And mine

Social commentary


This is all temporary

We are made of star stuff

Meant to return to the heavens


I’m ready

For a get back what’s yours

Shake off the enemy

Stop trying to impress

And not offend

I’m talking about you on your knees

Because you’ve seen defeat

You’ve been surrounded

You’ve lost too much

You can’t go back

You’re not the same

And you see the face of God

And you raise up a new standard

With fire in your bones

And God moves over your house

Like fire from the heavens

And burns the foundations

And the dust beneath it


I’m talking about a Gospel that lasted through concentration camps

I’m talking about a

Gospel that ran on hymns

Written on the shore

From the soul

From the sorrow

From the need

Like a cry in the middle of the night

You can’t replace

“I need thee every hour…”

“It is well with my soul.”

You can’t replace that with five writers and a pop station

Give me something with power

When I’m alone

At night

And the enemy is whispering in my ear

“You know you’re a failure

You should just kill your self

You’re nothing

You’re nobody

Nobody loves you

You’re a failure and a quitter.”

Give me something with power

That can meet me there

In the night.

Because a pop station

And a yogurt shop

Isn’t going to save my soul

“At the cross at the cross ….”

“His name is Jesus.”

Somewhere there is a remnant

That still remains

That hears his voice

And prays


Prays for their co workers

Prays for their friends

Prays for their community

Prays for their country




I’m talking about knowing God.

Not knowing thyself

Self help

Me me me mine


“Lights shine every where we go

It’s so bright and happy.”

I’m not talking about that

I’m talking about a kind of knowing

That helped our grandparents through concentration camps

I’m talking about

A fire

That helped the martyred church

I’m talking about not being liked

But being sustained in spirit

And caring less

And living more.

Through knowing

Knowing God.

I don’t know that we are ready

I don’t know that we are ready


Help me to be ready.

The Writer

It’s said that Samuel knew Gods voice…

And God told Samuel, how long will you mourn ?

Go ….I’m already preparing something better for you.




David was a regular guy,

After God’s own heart

Chasing God’s favor?


Just a writer

Doing his best with the little ordinary things …

He failed

He lost

He was last

He got up again

And he kept going

I’ve always wanted to be like that

like samuel

Able to hear God in the stillness

Like David

Just doing my best to honor him

I don’t want anything profound

I just want this

Something private

Something mine

So I wake up

And I write

And there is this panic

How long will you mourn?

How long will you mourn?

Get back up…

It’s not what it looks like

There’s something better ….

The Dustbowl

Let hell be barred

His saved ones

Know his voice

And he calls them by name….


In the deepest darkest corners

Of the mind

We’ve lost ourselves

And an entire generation

We’ve been so lost

With politics


What is truth?

Suddenly faith

Becomes stranger than fiction

Four years flies by and we forget how to think

God forbid I fail to pray for you

We say Jesus could never be!

He was murdered, he was a good man, well meaning, but he died.

We forget the earth trembled to take him…

We forget the power…of the blood…

We forget that he was not relaxing

Writing a memoir for those three days…

He was in hell…

Taking the keys ….

Jesus said,

In case you forget,

“I freely lay down my life.”

Let that sink in

“And so I am free to take it up again. No one takes it from me. I lay it down of my own free will. I have the right to lay it down; I also have the right to take it up again. I received this authority personally from my Father.”

We want something that feels good

We want something that looks good

But meanwhile the world is confused and burning

Because no one is standing in the gap

Reaching across the breach

Shaking them lose

We have no Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednegos

who are cast into the furnace but do not burn

We have no Elijah


So there is no

fire of the LORD to fall and burn up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and the water in the trenches…

There has got to be someone

in this land

Who like Dietrich Bonhoeffer


It’s the world we leave for our children


“If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction.”

There is a faith

A calm assurance like David and Jonathan, saying perhaps God will give us favor today…

“I know in whom I have believed, and am fully persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.”

We want what we want and we want it now.

We want to talk about the end times

But we haven’t even got enough oil. To make it past noon…

Let Hell be barred, God be right and Everyman a liar. Give us someone with a fire in their bones.

God spoke and put flesh on dry bones ,

Supplied enough for the Israelites in the desert and lead them with a pillar of fire…

But we can’t even wear a mask.

And we think we are prepared

For such a time as this

We think we are ready

For such a time as this

We get so angry

Over religion

And politics


We have all our faith in one man

In Washington

And expect him to meet us where we are and fix this nation….

Maybe it’s not Washington

Maybe it’s not school

Maybe it’s not suicide

Maybe it’s not streaming

Maybe it’s not social media

Maybe it’s not your parents

Or your zip code

Or your salary

Maybe it’s because once upon a time

In Steinbeck’s dustbowl there was a people that knew his voice and could not be moved

And they were his saved ones

And he provided a way….

You can’t hit a target you can’t see…

But you can get up and start walking

And God can provide enough light

For just the next step

And that will make the journey…

God told Samuel to stop mourning….

And he anointed David….

But it was another ten years before he became king…at the age of 30…

Your chapter is not your story.

Maybe the same God that caused a great bang and split the atom and bled the universe that is still expanding

And lay down his life just to raise it up again after wrestling the serpent in hell for three days….to claim victory over the sting of death…

Who turns and looks upon you when you pray ….

The same God that called David

The same God

Who prayed until his sweat became blood….

He is preparing something better…

But we can’t function without WiFi

And we want to put our trust in politicians

And we want to put our trust in systems that fade away

And we want what we want

And we don’t even know what that is

But we want it right now….

I have faith, lord, help our unbelief….

Haunted October (ghost)

A stillness in the back of your voice

The weight of the words

All the images of me

Inside this violent heart


Is there room here?

For growth

Is there room here

For something more

Than this pain

The rooms with empty ghost

Of what we used to hold

Of what we used to….


I still recall …..


The shadows inside this heart


I still recall the way….


And everything changes

Everything rearranges

Is there room

For something else


I have no words

Only memory



She stands in the doorway

My ghostly past

She reminds me of my failures

And how soon we can recollect

Just to disassemble

Just to burn

She reminds me

Everywhere I look

I remember

I’m fading

And I’m



Haunted October (quiet)

– I’m not happy

She said it quietly, almost as if to herself more than to me or in conversation.

– You’re not ?

– No I’m not. I’ve not been for sometime. When we are together, which is rare, all I do is cry. And we fight. Or he’s not even there at all. There’s nothing worse than feeling invisible. Hollowed out. I’m more than a face, you know? I’m so much more than that.

– What are you going to do?

— shit. Shit shit shit. I just want to be desired. I want someone to think of me first thing in the morning and just before they go to sleep. I want to be desired. Not taken for granted. Not assumed. Not controlled. Just ….desired. You know what I mean right?

– Hey, you’re fine. Everyone wants a poets gaze but,

– Without the poet.

She lit a cigarette

I poured another drink

Neither of us knew what we were going to do….

I looked out the window

It was raining