Offering

I've come here to sing your praises
To lay prostrate at your feet
The newest disciple of a dogma
Long since turned to dust.

I've come here to offer myself
Once again on the blank page
Piously offering words and verse
Ignoble is my reverence.

The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

I've come here basking in your beauty
To offer faith in perpetuity
Professing a love I've not felt
For what love can a mortal offer a God?

I've come here to feel again,
The sanctuary of your embrace
The solace offered by your smile
The pleasure of your penetration


The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

Awakened from your love
Forever changed by your touch
Cast down from Olympus
With a piece of heaven to share

Alive in your shadow

Fertility as divine copulation
Born of an ancient one's seed
What have I to give in return?

The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

After My House was Robbed

From the minute we're born
Our life as a statistic begins
255 babies born every minute and
Every step of our development from that point on
Is programmed and categorized
For easy comparison and reference
Apgar score, head circumference
Height, weight
How fast we grow . . . or how slow
From the minute we're born
We either fit in or we don't
We're either normal or abnormal
And every minute after realizing this
Is spent avoiding statistics
"I don't want to be a statistic" we shout, while
57 million Americans have mental Health disorders
      (and there are 55 Million registered republicans)
How quick can we say
"I'm not crazy" when
1 out of 2 people abuse alcohol
Let's drink to not being the one with the problem!
4 out of 5 of us do drugs
Well, pass the dutchie because I'm. Number. Four.
1 out 5 children witness domestic violence
So maybe that's why I still shake when someone wants to fight
3 million homes will be robbed
1 out of every 6 women will be raped
      (1 out of 10 men)
216 people will die while this poem is being read

The question is, Does that matter?

How many sunrises will be seen?
How many sunsets?
How many first kisses will be enjoyed and
How many last kisses will linger in memory?
How many job interviews will be nailed and
How many pink slips doled out?
When will success happen and
When will its relevance be questioned
How many books will be read?
How many poems written?
How much love will be fallen into and
How many dances will be danced?
     (In the rain?)

From the minute we're born
Our life as a statistic begins
And we remain one until we die
This is the way of things
Birth followed by death
The part in the middle?
That's called life and
Life is now and
Life  . . .
Is still to come.