I Hate You, Dad, for What You Did

I hate you, Dad, for what you did
To me when I was just a child,
A helpless thing whom you could beat
Until the excess bile was drained.
To me, when I was just a child,
You were God unmerciful
Until the excess bile was drained
And you were once again my friend.
You were God unmerciful,
And I was Satan, Lord of Hell,
Until you were again my friend
And curdled my last drops of love.
And I was Satan, Lord of Hell,
A helpless thing whom you could beat
Until you curdled all my love.
I hate you, Dad, for what you did.
I Miss You, but I Cannot Make You Miss Me
I miss you, but I cannot make you miss me.
I need you, but you do not know my need.
I want you, but I cannot make you kiss me.
I suffer, but I cannot make you bleed.
I beseech you, but you will not be beguiled.
The door's locked, and you will not let me in.
You're my mother*, but I cannot be your child.
I've lost you, and I can't take back my sin.
Like an earth no longer with its sun,
Shooting towards eternity alone,
I no longer circle anyone,
An aimless, mindless, wandering piece of stone.
Ah, Mother*! It would be so sad if we
Would journey through to darkness separately.
I Wait upon the Love That Waits for Me
I wait upon the love that waits for me
Unknowing as I grow within the womb,
The creature of an unheard harmony
Between the voices of my dawn and doom.
Half of me is you: how strange! Yet more
Uncanny is the fact that we are two.
I live within a room whose only door
For good or ill must open onto you.
Be there for me, father*, in your heart,
As I for you will be the child you will.
Play with all your love the father's* part,
And I will with my love your dreams fulfill.
I will rebel, of course, but pay no mind:
Years of love will stand against the wind.
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Happy Father's Day to a Dear Uncle

Happy Father's Day to a dear uncle!
A pillar of my life and of my joy;
Patient, though I may your cover rumple;
Pleased to be both playmate and large toy.
Yours is the quiet sanity I count on,
Familiar in the space around your voice,
A gentle, well-trained wisdom I can mount on
To ride to the persuasion of my choice.
Here I am, then, at your doorstep waiting,
Eager to be held by you and play,
Ravenous with hunger there's no sating,
'Mid your life a willful piece of clay.
So will we join our destinies in this
Dependency, which someday I will miss,
A long, consuming moment which, when done,
Yet will shape the journeys still to run.
Happy Father's Day to a Father-to-Be
Happy Father's Day to a father-to-be!
A little kidney bean has sprouted limbs,
Put forth fingers, toes, while silent hymns
Praise life with music none will hear but she.
You'll never relish more such mystery!
Full of the radiance with which life brims
As you await its needs, its wants, its whims,
The timbre of its love, its will-to-be.
How beautiful, this time of expectation!
Each moment silent in the packed, hushed hall,
Reverberating with the sounds of waiting
'Ere the outstretched arms begin to beat.
So beautiful, this barely breathed elation!
Days go on, but underneath them all
A hunger that there is no hope of sating
Yearns to kiss two tiny, wrinkled feet.
Happy First Father's Day
Happy first Father's Day!
All is as planned:
Passion, then parenthood --
Pipsqueak in hand!
Yet now there are burdens,
Far more than before,
And hours devoted
To one much-loved chore.
How beautiful! One is
Entangled in life,
Rendered to love
'Twixt child and wife.
So beautiful! One learns
Delight is a choice,
A part long-since written
Yet heeding your voice.
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Children Need a Daddy

Children need a Daddy
For many, many things:
Like holding them high off the ground
Where the sunlight sings!
Like being the deep music
That tells them all is right
When they awaken frantic with
The terrors of the night.
Like being the great mountain
That rises in their hearts
And shows them how they might get home
When all else falls apart.
Like giving them the love
That is their sea and air,
So diving deep or soaring high
They'll always find him there.
After My Father Gave Me His Blessing
After my father gave me his blessing
For the first time, saying, "God bless you"
As I left him to the darkness,
He held me there and kissed my hand.
For the first time saying, "God bless you"
In all the years that I had loved him,
He held me there and kissed my hand,
And the child shivered with delight.
In all the years that I had loved him,
We understood no need to speak.
The child shivered with delight;
The man in silence turned away.
We understood no need to speak
As I left him to the darkness.
The man in silence turned away
After my father gave me his blessing.
A Little Girl Needs Daddy
A little girl needs Daddy
For many, many things:
Like holding her high off the ground
Where the sunlight sings!
Like being the deep music
That tells her all is right
When she awakens frantic with
The terrors of the night.
Like being the great mountain
That rises in her heart
And shows her how she might get home
When all else falls apart.
Like giving her the love
That is her sea and air,
So diving deep or soaring high
She'll always find him there.
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Grant Us All the Peace of Understanding

Grant us all the peace of understanding
Why it is that anything is here.
Happiness or horror notwithstanding,
The point of the whole thing is far from clear.
If you are perfect, why this botched creation,
Replete with hunger, torture, lust, and greed?
Why suffer on the cross for our salvation?
I understand the end, but not the need.
A perfect being needs no son, no heaven,
No purposes, no places, priests, or prayers,
No stars or sepulchers, no souls, not even
One dead fool, about whom someone cares.
Could it be perfection could not be
Without my love for you, and yours for me?
How Have Chicks and Rabbits Taken Over
How have chicks and rabbits taken over
A holiday of mystical rebirth?
Perhaps the Lord has let them make it over,
Pleased with all the gentlefolk of Earth.
Youngsters needn't dream of agony:
Easter, for children, must wear more festive clothes;
And so the soft, defenseless babes they see
Symbolize Christ's love when He arose.
The Spring was always time for holidays.
Easter fun for tots no truth betrays:
Redemption is approached in many ways.
Habit Is the Hand that Shapes the Heart
Habit is the hand that shapes the heart.
A soul becomes the soldier of its faith.
Peace prevails through courage and by art.
Pride is vanity, the preacher saith.
Yet love is sky to mountains and to seas.
Evil and good lie blissful in its arms.
All may find that joy with equal ease,
Sunlight radiant above life's storms.
The character is written on the face
Even as the soul receives its grace,
Restored to innocence and on its knees.
Happiness Has Much to Recommend It
Happiness has much to recommend it,
A choice, though hard, that often satisfies.
Passing joys, pursued, bid fair to end it,
Perhaps because their truths turn into lies.
Yet one may choose a life of faith and love,
Even dogged by doubt and ripe with lust,
Ample as a river on the move
Singing down the balustrades of dust.
To love is to step forward into light,
Embracing what would else return to night,
Redeemed, redeeming by this act of trust.
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The Cancer That Killed You Was Part of You Gone Quite Insane

The cancer that killed you was part of you gone quite insane:
The good run amok; death from life bursting awry,
Like a poor paranoid on a bell tower sniping away,
Killing the order that gives all the colony life.
Nature, of course, has madness built into its music,
Disturbing its peace with the agony all artists crave.
Perhaps that's what killed you: the one-in-so-many malfunctions
That chaos requires to shatter the oneness of light.
But chaos is aided in our time by greed in abundance:
Greed like a cancer destroying our colony Earth;
Greed that we eat, drink, and breathe, in our dreams, in our language;
Greed in the nuclei of our dwindling faiths.
What killed you, my loved one, is blended in recycled plastic
Spewing its toxins in micrograms into the sky.
Your life was a goat on the altar of modern convenience,
Bearing the sins of us all towards that merciless god.
We live in a world whose rulers are partners with death;
For whom cancer must be a number that balances out.
You were just perhaps the unlucky percent to be traded
For progress towards some CEO's end-of-year bottom line.
The Gift of Life Is Never More or Less
The gift of life is never more or less.
Either days or years are merely moments.
Reverence remains the source of bliss.
More memories do not increase remembrance.
If death must early come, then let it be
Nor more nor less than if it had come late:
A part of a much larger mystery,
Leaving wind and wisdom in its wake.
Longing is the music of our sphere,
Yearning for a time past time and space
In which all that we love is ever here,
Love everlasting, which is now our grace,
Living with us more than we can bear.
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If All Were Now as It Was When

If All Were Now as It Was When
If all were now as it was when
Christ came to save us all,
And Christmas Day were Christmas Day,
Not some day we recall;
And in the East we saw a star
Exceptionally bright,
And wondered what was going on
That ordinary night;
If God were walking in our midst,
Saying what He said,
And we were not His followers,
But trod where He would tread;
And we were witness to His word
And looked Him in the eye,
And found His message interesting
But too bizarre to buy;
If we were in Jerusalem
And watched Him bear the cross,
And suffered with His suffering
But feared to share His loss;
And saw Him die in agony,
And wondered at it all,
And this were something we ourselves,
Not printed books, recall:
What would be the difference,
Had we known Him that way,
Between the faith we feared to feel
And what we fear today?
Maybe Merry Christmas Isn't Merry
Maybe Merry Christmas isn't merry.
Everything can't work out every year.
Reveling on holidays is very
Rough on those a little short of cheer.
Yet life goes on, and what was once consuming
Comes slowly to dissolve in humdrum days.
Hope returns, its rightful place resuming.
Rivers run their long and winding ways.
Instead of pain, one comes to revelation.
So does one not bury the remains,
Trading raw estrangement for relation,
Melding losses into harder gains.
As you are less than merry, with good reason,
So may you still find solace in the season.
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Gold Is Not the Only Buried Treasure

Gold Is Not the Only Buried Treasure
Gold is not the only buried treasure.
In your heart there is a sunlit sea.
Underneath each moment lies another
Life of pure angelic ecstasy.
In simplest things there is the greatest pleasure.

Giuli, Giuli,
Please say, Hello!
Say, Yes, I'd like to!
Yes, I want to!
Yes, yes, that's so!
Say, Good! Say, Fine!
Say, I don't mind.
Say, Would you like to, too?
Say, Sure! Why not?
OK! a lot,
What would you like to do?
Giuli, Giuli,
Giuli, Giuli,
Sing and dance, be bright!
Be more, not less,
Be joy, be yes!
Be sun, be warmth, be light!


Eggs Make Ducks
Eggs make ducks
And ducks make eggs
So ducklings can quack quack!
The chicks go peep
Emerged from sleep,
Resurfacing out back.
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