Disbelieving Poems

Bloodstained Alter

Red on the marble floor
a silent witness to the horror
Her blood pools at the altar
a stark testament to my sin

Her body lies lifeless
once so full of grace
Now broken bruised
deprived of love’s embrace

I stand frozen
disbelieving
the weight of what I’ve done
crushing me
A priest’s collar tight around my neck
a smoking gun heavy in my hand

She came to the chapel seeking refuge
seeking solace
She found only death
I was meant to guide her
but instead
I took away her breath

The red at her feet spreads
a stain that no prayer can erase
My footsteps echo loud and hollow
as I flee into the shadows
the shame following close behind

I never meant for this
I swear it wasn’t part of any plan
But now I’m a murderer in the house of God
a broken damned man

They call it a crime of passion
a moment of rage
but those words mean nothing
She’s gone
Her life ended by my hands
and no confession can turn the page

And now here I sit
on death row
counting my final breaths
haunted by the altar I defiled
by the blood I spilled

Her face her voice
they never leave me
My soul is stained
eternally lost
forever chained
to the altar of my hate

Reinventing Time

Knowledge of the future
memories of the past
Caught within a final vacuum
dissipating fast 

Wanton disbelieving
 eyes are liars still
Perception changed then rearranged
sensation thrice distilled 

The philosophy of physics
 logicians burn and melt
Time but smirks as gravity flirts
 judgment prior dealt 

Memories of the future
knowledge of the past
Once you slow the ebb and flow
— the moment is recast 

(Dreamsleep: August, 2024)

You Are Always On My Mind

I wore his dog tags and his medal for the valor they implied.
My heart was aching, sorrow engulfed me, I felt torment inside.
Life lost meaning. I had hated that war since it first begun.
Now the worst thing of all, disbelieving that it had taken my son.

The misery that my loss had created, proved to be all too strong.
I was unable to sleep, I just cried all day and all night long.
Finally weeks later some sleep befell me and I began to dream.
In the distance was my boy, alive and well or so it would seem.

He was with other young soldiers all marching up a very steep hill.
All had packs upon their backs, but my son was standing quite still.
He was struggling hard to climb as his pack was the biggest of all
I asked him, "why is your pack so large and the other’s so small?".

"Most of the guy's loved ones, have happy memories of their life,
But all I have left you Mum, is tumultuous sorrow, grief and strife.
Our packs are full of the tears that our loved ones all have shed.
All the tears you have cried Mum, make my pack heavy as lead".

When I awoke, I cried no more, kept the good, left the sad times behind.
My dear son you are always on my mind. .........

blue colored glasses

I had heard of rose-colored glasses
But this old man was sitting in the middle of flowers
Wearing blue-colored glasses
As rosy as any hippie I had met

He only sees the good in people
Flowers adore him
They pop out of the earth and surround him
Wherever he goes

He has an ambiance few others have
I stared at the old crone
Disbelieving her story
Until two lilies popped up alongside a knock-out-rose

The old man was humming gently to the garden
As it surrounded him with additional zinnias and lilacs
I wondered where I could find blue-colored glasses

Not Now Please Not Now

Have you ever reached
into that bag of goodies
that is your life
and experienced 
that tummy-dropping sensation
when you find it
to be a tad empty
a little short-handed
not containing what you need
for your current situation
and everything 
absolutely everything
becomes one massive 
all pervasive
reverberating echo
making you feel
positively, undoubtedly 
unable to cope 
and in your mind
all you can hear   
pulsing   
over and over 
is a great big disbelieving
“Not now, please not now!!” 
and then 
you pucker up
pull your shoulders back 
ignore the smell
and scrape the burnt 
top layer of toast into the sink
leaving the deluge of burnt crumbs for later
‘cause hey
we all love a good ole buttery crunch.

Disbelieving Beavers

That photo must be photoshopped said quite a few in a snippy way.
But I knew better, for I had observed the Big Dipper myself that day.
It is what I saw in the sky myself, I told the doubting misbelievers.
They still did not believe it, that’s why I call them beavers.

Blue Colored Glasses

I had heard of rose-colored glasses
But this old man was sitting in the middle of flowers
Wearing blue-colored glasses
As rosy as any hippie I had met

He only sees the good in people
Flowers adore him
They pop out of the earth and surround him
Wherever he goes

He has an ambiance few others have
I stared at the old crone
Disbelieving her story
Until two lilies popped up along side a knock-out-rose

The old man was humming gently to the garden
As it surrounded him with additional zinnias and lilacs
I wondered where I could find blue-colored glasses

If You Can Ignore the Hen

If you can ignore the hen, the date will be fine.
She was not sure what this cryptic message meant.
He arrived with a hen on his head, ready to dine.
Like others, her heart immediately turned to cement.

She made an excuse and left quickly enough.
Like all the others, he told his disbelieving brother.
He never tired of talking about eggs, chicks and stuff.
Do you think it’s the hen? He asked his wise mother.

Listen

Listen to the One who guides believers home
Scripture reveals, the gospel truth, in hearers
Hearts who receive Him, believing, will not roam

Heed Jesus, so gentle, echoed in mirrors
Reflecting love more perfect than I’ll describe
Reach beyond the disbelieving, soul smearers

Listen to hearts who sweetest faith does inscribe
Swaying like the leaves of autumn, calming souls
A cure stronger than a doctor could prescribe

The gospel invites each heart to meet its goals
With the promise of salvation through God’s grace
He aches to destroy sin and always consoles

Listen to the One who offers His embrace
Love like this, nothing in the world can erase

Believers and Skeptics

 believers
                      devout, fervent
         accepting, aiming, progressing
worshippers, devotees, persistent, cynics
     disbelieving, bearing, confounding
                   agnostic, cautious
                          skeptics

No More

No more looking deep inside 
No more thoughts of solitude 
No more lies to hold you up 
No more memories as food. 

No more testing the waters edge 
No more wondering if 
No more disbelieving 
No more waiting at the cliff. 

No more breaking promises 
No more worthless platitudes 
No more rejected smiles
No more lazy attitudes. 

No more looking away 
No more closing doors 
No more breathing anger 
No more, no more, no mores

Looking At Sheep

Black sheep, white sheep,
Unflappable sheep, 
They graze the high grass,
And appease all my demons.

Black sheep, white sheep,
Countless sheep, 
They graze the grass divinely
And appease all my WORRIES.

Black sheep, white sheep
Disbelieving sheep,
They eat the grass, magically,
Ease all my anxiety.

Fear

fear
angst, anguish
doubting, distrusting, disbelieving
apprehension, anxiety, bravery, bold
advancing, asserting, attacking
vigor, valor 
courage

We Call Her Thomasina

We call her Thomasina we all agreed, but it was a secret name.
She had another one, but it was ugly and rather plain and lame.
She is such a cat lover, she can bring them back from the dead.
That cannot be the truth! Said our disbelieving uncle Lee Ed.

She has brought at least two out of a critical state.
She has such love in her heart for them, she dispels all hate.
That would not be enough to bring them back to life said Lee Ed.
Now we understood better why his third wife ran off with a Fred.

To Trust Or Not To Trust

believe
loyal, truly 
trusting, reassuring, promising
expect, imagine, hesitate, suspicion
suspecting, questioning, disbelieving
wary, cynical
doubt





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August 8, 2022

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