Thursday, July 26, 2007

Isaiah 17: 12-14

12 Ah, the thunder of many peoples;
they thunder like the thundering of the sea!
Ah, the roar of nations;
they roar like the roaring of mighty waters!
13 The nations roar like the roaring of many waters,
but he will rebuke them, and they will flee far away,
chased like chaff on the mountains before the wind
and whirling dust before the storm.
14 At evening time, behold, terror!
Before morning, they are no more!
This is the portion of those who loot us,
and the lot of those who plunder us.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Third and Fairfax

Dedicated to those of us who continue to hope, and to sweep.

******************************************

I see a man
Sweeping off the street
At Third and Fairfax.
A bone-tired man with pale blue eyes.
There's only garbage at his feet,
Yet
His broom goes
Sweep
Sweep
Sweep.

He yearns to see the street,
And
His broom keeps going
Sweep
Sweep
Sweep.

I feel so sorry for him
He doesn't know
The wind is not pure.

I feel so sorry for him
He doesn't know
The wind brings the dirt
Again.

I feel so sorry for him
He doesn't know
The wind is not pure
And the doing doesn't make
The deed secure.

But
We want to see the street.
We pick up our brooms
And
Sweep
Sweep
Sweep.

Monday, July 09, 2007

My Father's Face

My father’s face is ravaged
Too much sun
Too many years
That English skin,
That broken nose
(There is a reason
For catchers masks,
You know).
But if you’d seen him
As I’d seen him
Handsome as the daybreak
And mine,
My Daddy,
Above all
The finest
You could not understand
How time could work
Indignities so brash
And unrestrained
To rob his morning of its grace
And leave this desolation
In its place.
The endlessly moving fingers
Picking at his face,
As if by peeling cancer’s flakes
His youth could be freed
From beneath his aches.
Oh, Father, Daddy,
Pappa Mine,
The raw teeth of the rake of time
Have drawn themselves
Across your mind
Hurts unforgiving
The livid scars of too much living.
Ravaged face
And ravaged mind
But I am traveling back in time
And there I find
The pencil mustache,
Sarcasm’s spark,
The hazel eyes more green than brown
Your hair so thin and fine as down
And there
I mark
The golden light of youth
Outlined
Against the future dark.

Looking for a job?

The Department of Homeland Security needs you, especially for those much-desired higher level jobs so necessary to our national security. Hmmm...maybe those jobs aren't so greatly desired...

House Report Uncovers Homeland Security Staff and Continuity of Government Risks

Sunday, July 08, 2007