Someday Someday

Someday you will look back, and then you will see

that the accidents were the only things that had a plan

that the questions were the only thing that made sense

That the things you almost missed made the biggest difference

That the worst and best were always the same things

And that when you were paying yourself no attention

Someone was always watching over you.

Let There Be War

And God said ‘Let There Be Light’
And God said ‘It Is Good.’
And God said ‘Let There Be.’

And man said ‘Not yet. Let it be night again, night and then no one will see. Let me say ‘it is not good’. Let me hate and destroy. Let there be me, or Let There Not Be.’


And the stones said ‘Enough… let me out of your hands. Do not use me to hit them, and crush other men. Enough, let me again just be part of the lands. They have suffered enough just for rocks, just for stones. It’s enough, for God’s sake… just leave them alone.’

And man said, ‘No not yet. I still want to hit. They are not ‘us’ but ‘them’. They deserve to be struck, and struck, again, and again, and again, and again.’


Said the rivers, ‘I am meant to be clear – to run free – do not paint me with blood, and these bodies of mud, I am meant not to be read, I am meant to be clean. Please,’ they said, ‘don’t lat them in my bed to die, I… I am only a river, and even I see… that the men and the women you’re feeding to me… they all drown the same… don’t you see? they can’t breathe… I am water – don’t bury your children in me.’

And man said ‘No: Let them gasp, let them bleed. I don’t want them or need them, so drink them for me. I want – badly want – to make fish of these men. I will get them, and grill them, and drown them again. I am a holy fire, so river obey: do what I say. Drink the blood of these ‘others’: erase who they’ve been. Drink the sons, brothers, mothers, and never run clean.’


And the fields cried ‘I am not your burial grounds. Return to your living, your homes, valleys, towns. Return to the dead to their lives if you can: don’t depend on this land, don’t make me swallow the dead of man. I am not that kind of land. I am meant to grow food. I am not meant to be a traitor to the plants that are growing in me. I am pregnant with your dead, with your lost, with the blood of your rage. I am too young, and too old, and like them: I won’t age. So take back the bodies you’re throwing to me. Let it be enough. I thought you were just dust… why is it you cannot be dust like me? Why is it that nothing can grow in you until I am slowing you and teaching you how? You have fed me enough. Please… please… you can stop now. You’ll be dust anyway. Why make them dust today?’

And man said ‘No: dust to dust, to dust, to dust. I will love only weapons of rust. I will love only ‘us’. I do not need the men I feed to you, oh you fields. It’s there fault that they didn’t know when to yield, and throw down their shield, and give up their seals, and run from the field. So drink them, eat them, ‘us’ defeat ‘them’. It is not enough yet: don’t forget that there is still more left behind, throw them into the cleft behind the plants we will eat. We plant them, in you fields. We defeat them, you will eat them, let be planted and their bones be granted a warriors death or they will be forgotten in the heather. Let the flowers bloom red from the blood in their bed. Make them dust, make them dust, make them dust: because ‘they’ were not ‘us’.’


‘It is time,’ said the dawn. ‘Let the new day begin. Let there be no more wars, no more screams in the night. No more shells falling, bombs calling, no more… no more… Learn to forgive. Let me just be a new day… a new way to live…’

And man said ‘No. the old way is fine as it is. Let the bombs fall, the men crawl, the night linger on. Let the dreamers be screamers, let there be no dawn.’


‘I am old,’ said the earth. ‘I have seen, I have been, I have brought from the deep, I have fallen asleep, I have choked on the things that your life has brought me. I am old, I am tired: But I m not done. I am still made of life. I still cling to the sun. I am meant to be healthy. I will heal… I will heal… I will bring back the stones, rivers, mountains, and fields. I will rebuild the world you have torn down so well. I will rebuild a false heaven out of your hell. I will do what you could not. I will forgive. Forgive those who died, forgive those who live, forgive for the future, and nurture, and suture the wounds you have opened all over me, through, under the skin of me. Kin of me: I will forgive. So leave me be. Let there be. I will heal I will mend, then you can fight again. But amen – let it be. Just let me. Just this once: let there be. Let there be, like before.’

And man said ‘No. I won’t wait. So Let There Be War.’


And There Was War.

Shine in the Dark

Somehow the lights are brighter out here

How they sparkle, reminding me of the life 

I’ve shared with you for so long now

Now, now I understand the 

Ethereal beauty of the transient

Even as we speak of eternity, these
Very bodies which we inhabit are
Escaping from this mortal coil, leaving
Never to return to the world that we see

When this inescapable truth is realized
How can we return to smiling, laughing,
Even loving? If we know that we will
Never get back the things we lose?

It takes practice, and practice
Time, and time, and time, and time

Fear – rational fear – is replaced by hope
Even as fear grows every day
Ending in more hope than would have
Lived without first being fear
So the darkness teaches us light

Do not look back for too long
As I have said: the lights are brightest here
Radiant, and terrifying, they let me
Know that our dying light will travel on

Life Do Us Part

I remember when I lost you

Was it really almost a year ago?

I remember that I told you how

Long I’d wanted to die. I said I

Loved you enough that I would

Live a long and happy life

In your place, in your honor

Valuing my life as yours

Even when I was living it alone

For me, I fond living harder than dying, so

On that day I made my ultimate sacrifice

Relinquishing my stranglehold on death

Yes, I know I can’t die for you. I can

Only live for you, alive and healthy

Until death allows us not to part.

If Memories Were Sounds

If memories were sounds then my childhood would be joyous cacophony. Trombones and soaring violin music would pierce every eardrum, only to soothe them with low, music box piano tunes. And you would be silence.

If memories were sounds my sister would be folk or jazz. My fights with her would have ominous hissing sounds. Our happier times would have jingling bells. And you would be silence.

If memories were sounds, then my first bike ride would be played on the kazoo. So awkward, and buzzing a little bit. My falling of would sound like a bassoon with frog stuck in it. Picking myself up would be one string at a time. And you would be silence.

If memories were sounds,then my college years would be an orchestra… until strings started snapping. There would be off key high notes, and low, rich drumming, like a heartbeat awoken. And you would be silence.

If memories were sounds you would be everywhere. You would be the silent catch breath between each sustained note. Youd be the heart-thudding pause just before the key our be the profound moment at the end, when people are too stunned to clap. and I could string it all together and make the first silent song. And I would listen everyday.

Because if memories were sounds…

and you were silent…

I would strain my ears.

Do You Think

Do you think that I

Only care about the things you

Never did for me? Or even

The things you could do still?

Let me make this clear:

Even if you were hurtful, useless,

And the disappointment we both

Very strongly think we are,

Even if that strong ‘if’ were so

My concern would be losing you.

Every day I am glad that you’re here.

Please believe me: you are more than that,

Are more than you can ever know.

Perfect? No one is. But I love you, just

As you are. This very minute. Just because you’re you.

If You Need to Leave

if you need to leave

I’ll sit with you as you go

I’ll hold your hand, and tell you you’ve done enough.

If you need to leave

I’ll keep loving you.

I’ll tell you again how you’ve never disappointed me.

If you need to leave

I’ll still love all the things.

I will love singing although I’m not singing with you. I’ll love acting, although I’m not watching you act. I’ll love the smell of pipe tobacco, though I know it’s not you who is smoking it, peaceably. I’ll still love corny jokes, though you’re not telling them. I’ll still love quiet times, though they no longer bring you peace. I’ll still enjoy reading aloud, when you’re not reading to me.

If you need to leave

I’ll be happy for you

or I’ll try to be happy for you

and every time I hear myself get mad, I’ll think “good thing he wasnt there to hear this: he would have hated hearing me so fierce and passionate and stubborn.” And every time the joke is not as good as you’d have made it, I’ll think “there will never be another like him”. And every time I play recordings of your voice, I’ll think “I sound a bit like him”. And every time I remember you as sad I’ll think “I bet he’s happy now”. Each monday I’ll wake up and think “he doesn’t have to work.”

If you need to leave

I will carry your legacy

and I wont change my last name , so that I’ll still have yours. And I’ll tell all the dumb jokes you taught me. And try and sing your harmony when my sister and I sing. And I will help old men who voted against my rights, because I know they would have gotten on so well with you. I’ll memorize your family line so I can name your ancestors as proudly as you did.

If you need to leave

I’ll write songs for you

And sing them so you won’t be scared

I’ll tell you stories of the things I’ll do one day

so you never feel like you missed out on all the things I hoped youd see me do.

But if you leave because of me

because I was too loud

Or you thought I liked dollar signs and life insurance policies

If you think that’s what love means to me

then you have never known me.

If that is true, then you already left

and didn’t let me hold your hand

or read to you

or write you special songs

If that is what you think of me, then it is not that I don’t have a father

it’s that you have lost your child.

Because you dont know how I love you

Even though I’d have sat beside you

If you needed to leave.

In the Water

There’s a ghost in the water
She’s waiting for me
There’s a ghost in the water
I thought she would leave
Here eyes are as white
As the rest of her skin
She is wispy as though
She was poured in like ink
Her hands are opened
And waiting for me

There’s a ghost in the water
She’s calling my name
Her arms are inviting
No matter how cold
There’s a wildness about her
Like a swarm of white blood
She flutters in the water
Waiting for me
Whenever she sees me
She holds out her hands

There’s a ghost in the water
She’s stealing my breath
Her hair swirls around her in
Silk-strand tentacles
Her blind eyes won’t blink
Her white lips won’t part
She waits for me, always
And smiles when I speak
She welcomes me the way
All graves welcome guests