Resolutions

More

Or less

This year

I hope.

To do

More

and less.

Keep the Christ in Christmas

*THIS POEM CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE*  
(because that's what the scene would sound like)

Tom Leonard has this poem where the thief on the cross talks about missing the game. 

Rob Bell talks about hearing the breath of God even in the voices of people who don't believe. 

Christians say "keep the Christ in Christmas." I don't like it.

So I imagine you might hear these things at a homeless shelter.  Maybe a manger is a 1st Century homeless shelter.  Maybe the church is a homeless shelter.

Keep the Christ in Christmas

"Jesus, it's cold."

"Christ, you gonna bring me some cookies or you just gonna sit there preaching all night?"
"God, where do these hypocrites get off?"

"Son, I appreciate you trying but you have no idea what I've been through to get here."

"Jesus, what the fuck, Joe, you're wasted."

"Christ, did you see the look on their faces!"

"OH MY GOD, did you see the new dress Mary was wearing on the Ave?"

"Son-of-a-bitch took my cookies!"

"Jesus fuckin Christ, I ain't waiting around here with these fools I'm going to get me a loosey."

"Christ, you see those legs?  I like that.  Baby, you can take me to church anyday woo!"

"God told me I got I got I got a bright future, this is my fourth time, this time I'm really gonna quit."

"My SON, I just want to call MY SON  for five minutes!"

"Jesus, it's cold."

"Christ, you think they would've been able to find some fuckin space for  a chick who's pregnant."

"God, it hurts."

"Son-of-a-bitch!  Baby's comin."

Advent

There were no four hundred years of silence.

I don't think the birds were singing their songs any differently,

And 82-year-old prophetesses don't become prophetesses

Without receiving a word.

I'm afraid I'm out of Magnificats,

I'm not surprised when you speak.

I already prayed that you wouldn't--

You came anyway,

And I'm so glad you did.

Laying out evidences alongside

Some caramel chocolate pies.

Beauty, conviction, and Pascal's dice.

You're asking me if I really believe through a "what if"

What you're really asking is, what if I could

Do whatever I wanted.

And you're saying you don't see a thing.

Wise men seeing stars

Black holes and revelations

Two sides of the same spiral galaxy

Evolutions and big bangs non sequitor into

Absolute statements on existence or non-existence

YHWH breathing sounds/"there is no God"

Light and dark playing in your deep eyes

And a wince.

We are either conjurers and quacks

Or enlightened hacks

Or paranoid kings slaughtering babies

And possibilities.

You decided to speak through an infant's cry?

And Thomas got to poke a finger in your side

You've been showing up all my life.

A God that doesn't hide.

So what's with the night?

What's the word? 

How long must I wait? 

I don't need another miracle today

But I think my friends might. 

Written on my Heart

While others write in ink and stone

Or carve into a weathered trunk

You've been gnawing at my bones

And have written on my heart.

A word and worship song inside

A language I don't know.

A litany of unknowns.

An aimless ache for home.

I wish I had let myself love you

A little while.

It's going to take a lot of writing out

Reductionism begs for a ribbon-cutting

And oh, the easy road

I'm no chaser, but I want to be

A pursuer, I want to at least say

I tried.

Hope-deferred dry

I wish I could make any sense of

Of the things I feel in my mind.

While others write upon their arms

Or tattoo 'beloved' on their wrist

I wanted to save the excess ink

And let you know from the start.

While others speak in chocolate and flowers

I hope a T-shirt will do.

I wish I could say I was an author

But I'm terrified the poem

Might not exactly meet expectations.

We've both been running from the start

You've been tugging at my elbows

You have written on my heart. 

Distant Dystopias

I dream of distant dystopias

And wars between B+W's and colours

I dream of escaping a spacewalk solitary

It didn't seem so hard to make it down to planet but

Once there the complexity of relationship

And the artillery shells did

A number on my nerves. 

This is the Year (Song)

This is the year that I go home

Everything has to change--one way or another

This is the year--I'll let myself crash and burn

I've been holding my breath for four years

I've been holding my breath for four years

This is the only year I can live now

I gotta clear the tracks

Of the trainwreck in my mind

This is the year

Where I find my way back

Or my way out

Oh God save me from myself

Oh God save me from myself

I've been living in the past and holding out

For my dreams to come back together

I've been looking for a fix for the constant loneliness

I feel now.

This is the year I'm rediscovering joy

Oh, I've known it was you all along

I've known it was you all along

This is the year

That I stop running

Oh, you might have to hold my toes to the line

You might have to put a strong hand into mine.

Cuz if I don't stand up like a man

I'm gonna lose you all over again

They set off fireworks all around the hill in L'viv

They cheered for a new year, it seemed so optimistic and naïve.

I'm taking a deep breath

Oh I'm no hero I know

But I've got to change

If I'm gonna be a man

Oh I've got to change

If I'm gonna live again

This is the year--that I go home

Everything has to change

One way or another
This is the year--that I let myself crash and burn

In the fire, in your arms, or both

I'm still not sure.

I've been holding my breath for four years

I've been holding my breath for four years

This is the year.