Tag Archives: hope

Death to Dinosaurs 

This poem was the inspiration for the Death2Dinosaurs blog. After months of neglect — I took a job as an adviser with three local cemeteries and thought the name seemed disrespectful — I’m jumping back into blog action. Enjoy! 

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Death to dinosaurs is what I see

in my dreams, and it seems 

fair to care why they die.

Large and leathery, wheezing,

stumbling, falling, and then

melting away. Vanishing.

They chased me, and I hid one of

the dogs they wanted to eat.

It felt like the right thing to do.
I don’t know how to make sense

of these places, these dinosaur

faces, fading away over 

entertainment centers. 

They’re random, they say. 

They’re the future, they say.

It’s gray to me, and still it seems

to be something I somehow knew. 

A place no less real than you.
In a land where dinosaurs die, or 

tornadoes fly, or a land where

I’m still in school, how do I know

where my home is? What a home is? 

What is true?

And if that passes as a home there, then

how do I remember to care?

 In those places, with those faces. 

Fading. Dying now.

The Cherry Farm

I can see the money tables turning.
I can see the soft son of God
Broken open on the cross,
Smiling, writhing, then serene.
I can see the cave light up,
The threshold stone pushed back,
The followers’ celebration, bewilderment.
But Abraham standing over his son?
Noah and his arc?
Job with sores, in mourning?
Is a rule book carved in stone
Broken in pieces like bread, hurled at adulterers?
Maybe the leaves are falling
Away from the flower.
Maybe the fields are ripe.
And the fruit is an unyielding
Devotion. An undeserved grace.
Call me a bad Christian.
An unbeliever. It fits.
But I hold a cheesy hope.
My sappy dream is to be a Samaritan,
Wise enough to extend
a hand of help to a beaten man
On a beggar’s road.
It’s a trumpet call at harvest time.
I think I’ll settle in a quiet corner, picking cherries from their stems.

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Dinosaurs doing taxes

The whole world of value
Explodes.
A star bursting with juicy
Arms stretched reaching
Its limit in a sacrifice
Triggered by the memory
Of faith, the lingering
Notes of a friendship song,
Dying so another can see
A light and feel
hope.
Everything we draw out
Is born from a spark.
A death folding in on itself
And sprinting forward.
Look at me, extravagant love,
You flower,
And run home.
Let the dinosaurs do taxes
And cross check statements.
Then, come home.
Hands forward,
Not in a prayer’s pose,
Spread wide
In a dancer’s embrace.
Jumping like a fool,
Laughing,
Exploding.