poetry, word


Blank words stuck

Under the tongue

Inside the gum 

I chew and meditate

The words. Regurgitate. 

I taste too late

Guilt aftertaste

Harsh reprobate

She’s spoken in my name

I knew better

It didn’t matter

My words had scattered

From the top-down tower

They didn’t bow 


Blink or bother

The Father or His breath


My lord, my hope, my brother

I speak: myself, another

You hear His rooster cry

Flame and fire

Cannot refine 

Words I search to find

They’re mine

They’re fine


They’re named for fire

But His words 

From above

Like a dove

A flame

All I taste is fire

A liar


It burns 

Tequila midnight


To speak

I don’t know how to light it

but I can feel it burning

It’s nothing new

Under the sun

Under my tongue

But my words sound stupid

Muted, mind-refuted

Compared to Amos




To poorly say

His life-restoring

Breath of ashes

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