The Insomniac Writer

less than living
more than dead
an image in
the Maker’s head 

some twisted plana Garden lost
a love upheld
by brutal cost 

a homeless mana rebel priest
who said the great
will be the least 

last will one daybe the first
and those who drink
will never thirst 

a martyr forthe cause of grace 
young Isaac’s ram
to take our place 

a bloody pricea three day wait
to mortal [...]

 
I form a noose from fate’s thin thread,
teeter on the chair of time,
and ask myself if God is dead
or just some cosmic mime.
 
I pledge to walk the rope of Grace,
suffer all that He may ask,
and search the homeless for His face
through shades of darkened glass.
 
I storm the gates of hell on earth
killing all that passed [...]

 
                I rolled over and slapped at the alarm clock, missing the snooze button twice before bringing its high-pitched whine to an end. Behind me, Sarah stirred but remained firmly in the grasp of the Sandman. I rolled over to face her and placed a hand on her breast. At one with her steady breathing, [...]

My Baby Bear,
                By the time you receive this letter, the great state of Texas will have seen to my execution. It’s been some twenty-two years since my sentencing and just as long since I last saw your lovely face. I keep a picture of you in the Bible my chaplain give me. It’s a [...]