Sunday, September 25, 2011


The touch, taste of you

Explodes on my tongue

Sweeter than the blackest berry

Hidden at the edge of a forest

Fed through by a swift creek

The willow stands on the bank

Roots half buried, half exposed

Where they meet the current

Branches touching the shade

Where we spent hidden eras

My real, you witness

Peeling back the skin

From my back

Whitewashed in the sun’s heat

My bones the color of you

My blood tinted in love

No one asked me why

They only saw that

Our skin was different

Beneath silk and sackcloth



That we are all the same

Under the eyes of God

Will they be able to seperate

My blood from yours now

Life’s liquid

Spilled on the ground

Beneath a noose

Too often colored in red

As each drip from the tree

Mingles with the drops

Spilling from my wrist

And the pain filled tears

From a heart torn apart by ignorance

And the loss of my soul.

© NP 9/11

Monday, September 5, 2011

Once more

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.

-Shakespeare, Henry V, Act III, 1598.

Once more quickly into the breach

We go before the king’s speech

Syntax and rhythm tied by threads

Mind imagination is left in heads

Spew all but nonsensical rhymes

Words to fall before the sands of time

When once lost language’s truest spirit

And spoken none recognize that hears it

Man loses stories’ communication

To dots, dashes and abbreviation

Oh where would I that love true test

Is not only written but spoken best

For my ears still long to hear

Promises that ease my heart from fear

Read in a script penned by you

And not my folly that I pursue

Once more I beseech to thy own lips

And like eager greyhounds in the slip

Speak; speak to me of beauty fair

Upon your lance my banner wear

Or leviathans that patrol the sea

Words to thrill and frighten me

The stars and space are but a stroke

Of leaden scribe of which you spoke

Combine them all in prose and ink

Give me things upon which to think

Practice please your written verse

And lode not diagramming upon yonder hearse

For Charon awaits a dangling phrase

And slang that’s passé in fewest days

Teachers teach, until all has finally been said

And then wall up words until English is dead

Once more my pleas stand in the breach

Once more, once more, please teachers teach

© NP 8/11



And Jacob called the name of the place Peniel: for I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved.” Genesis 32:30



Through the nites

From the edge of

My hard heartedness

Afraid to go forward

And afraid to go backwards

I could not let go of your hand

For he had already gone away

Leaving me feeling unloved and adrift

The touch on my hip spread across my skin

Fiery pain kept me from sleeping

So I prayed pleas for your mercy

Your silence left me hopeless

In my humility

I could only weep


From my heart




I called

In the dark

Deep where I sought

Words of forgiveness

Only to receive your

Silent indifference

Yet my struggle continued

I railed against the denials

That I, who only desired love

Would be denied such from you who are love

Did I not give faithful and earnest prayers?

Repentfully confessing my sins?

Ignoring the pain of my flesh

Living in bewilderment

I held her tight to me

Seeking my blessing

Inside the ink


I knew



Been heard

And my name called

Within many dreams

Permanent blue marks me

Approaching the end of dreams

I am that which was given me

The sum perseveringly prevails

I will ever be his navypoet