communion.

"In the beginning, was the word."

"And the word was with God."

"And the word WAS God."

If this is true I need the word.

Scratch that.

I need words.

Strachan once said "words have more power than atom bombs."

I pray to Word he was right.

Cause I'm getting in a B-2 Bomber and flying around the world.

I've found a better way to end wars.

You can be my co-pilot, cause I don't think I can do this alone.

We're gonna drop words like bombs.

Drop 'em over Afghanistan, Iraq, Darfur, Palestine, Israel, North Korea, South Korea, the United states.

Tell Mom and Dad not to wait up, this may take a while.

We're gonna send shock-waves around the world.

They'll knock down dictators like dominoes.

Bring 'em to they're knees.

Let's hope they know what to do once they're on 'em.

Our speeches will spread like wildfire.

Burnin' up backwards ideologies soaked in a century's worth of oil.

We're gonna blaze new trails -- they'll all lead home.

And when it's all said and done, we're still gonna need our words.

We're always gonna need our Word.

And we're gonna knead our words.

Knead them into dough.

But not the kind we're used to.

You can't buy politicians with this kind of dough.

This kind rises.

And raises too.

Raises spirits, raises questions, raises men from the dead.

That's right I'm talking about making bread.

Baking bread.

Breaking bread.

We've been using the same ingredients for two millenia now.

It'll come hot out of the oven smellin' fresh,

Like a new idea.

The way only revolution can.

And we'll all sit down around the table and he'll say,

"Take."

"Eat."

"This is my body broken for you."

Amen.

you say tuh-may-toe, i say tuh-ma-toe.

i have recently been thinking about the concept of worship. merriam-webster defines worship as "reverence offered a divine being or supernatural power." although this is a rather dry definition, i think it covers all the bases. i'm not as interested in what worship is though, as how one should worship. generally speaking, there are two schools of thought about this. the first is the traditionalist viewpoint. traditionalists see worship as going to church on sunday, or sabbath on saturday, or the mosque, etc. as the only true way to worship. for them worship is somewhat ritualized and best done when led by some knowledgeable religious figure. the second school of thought is that worship can happen anywhere, at anytime, with or without a learned religious figure, with a 1,000 people or just one. this is my school. class of '86. i don't think worship means being in a certain place, or reciting a particular crede, or anything like that. if i had it my way worship would be getting together with friends to enjoy their company along with food and drink. if human beings are God's most prized creation, then to enjoy one another and lift up one another seems like an appropriate way to worship God. this is not to say that traditional worship is useless. it certainly is not. however, i believe it has become for some the "right" way to worship. which is wrong. there are certainly wrong ways to worship, and wrong things to worship, but there is no one "right" way. so if you don't see me in church on sunday, don't worry. i'm probably enjoying food with friends, or partaking in a spontaneous late-night tennis game, or watching meteors streak naked through a crowd of stars, whatever happens to remind me of just how expansive and impressive God's creation truly is.

old ray did it again.

i heard this song again today for the first time in a while. actually heard it. the lyrics. the guitar. the way his voice aches with regret. it's just a beautifully written and performed song. this song cut me open and revealed something i've always struggled with. love. how to give it. how to receive it. i often treat love like a transaction. a contract. which is all wrong. i guess i still don't know what love means either. i'll get it eventually. in the meantime, bear with me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VBVqE-UtHw&feature=related

ray lamontagne is just so honest. it's refreshing.

oak barrel

we love like wine
pignot noir
white zinfandel
a merlot --
aquired tastes

stored in a barrel
crafted from oak
strong, proud
we tell ourselves it gets better with age
we'll all drink from that oak barrel someday
but our good intentions...lost
from barrel to bottle
to cob-webbed cellar
and that's where it stays
locked away
for years
in the dark
fermenting
aging
getting old
collecting dust
wasting
when it should be tasted
should be drank
should be drunk
we should be drunk

some of us need more than others
so drink up
drink it like water
like your life depends on it
because it does
this one's zero proof
lucky for me, that's all the proof i need.

short poem.

compose or decompose.
but for god's sake, compose.

Grounded.

Dear God, Allah, Buddha, whoever the fuck is up there listening...

This one comes from a lost boy
Age 23
I thought I'd have it down by now
Looks like I was wrong again
This time I'm putting aside my pride
I'm asking you to teach me
To teach us
We've been doing it our way too long
And I think I speak for everyone when I say we're exhausted
And alone
And scared
So please...teach us
We're listening this time
You have my word...for what it's worth
Teach us to be like gravity
Pulling anything and anyone close
Unconditionally
Holding them like a mother holds a newborn baby
Safe
Comfortable
Teach us to cry
Teach us to dry our tears using a towel embroidered with humor
Laughter always was the best medicine
Teach us to crawl
Teach us to walk
Walk with a spring in our step named God
Teach us to run, jump, skip, hop-scotch to Mecca
We all need a pilgrimage to remind us that home is due West
West in a straight line eventually we leave the earth's surface
We leave the earth's atmosphere
We're in space, the final frontier
Past the moon
Past the sun
Beyond the Milky Way, way, way out in the stars
On to infinity
Trying to reach the ends of the universe to find the lines that define you
That devine you
As soon as we reach the edge we find it's gone
Wait no, it's just further out now
Out of our grasp
Out of breath, gaaaasssssp
Some things just aren't meant to be
But all us boys and girls hopped up on scotch will fall drunk back to Mother earth's dirty embrace
We haven't felt this safe in the dirt since we were kids
So we play in the dust like it's winter's first snow
Making dust angels, or are they people?
We're just trying to follow your lead.
And when we're done we don't bother to rinse off
We know it's only our bodies that are unclean
This dirt may stick to the souls of our sneakers, but it can't stick to the souls of your creatures
Not anymore
Not since you taught us to be like gravity
Pulling everything and everyone close
Unconditionally
Unconventionally
That always was your style
Who knew we had to leave the earth before we could feel grounded?
I guess you did all along
You always knew
I just never bothered to ask.

age seven
i lost another truth again
i held onto it as long as i could
scared of the pain that would come
but its gone now
god knows it was barely hanging on...it must have been scared too
it finally let go at lunch
bit into an apple, and just like that...
i guess some things never change
it was the week before christmas break
and cold for a texas winter
it was the same day i realized santa claus was just the principal
that fake beard fooled me just a year ago, but i'm wiser now.
at least that's what they tell me
i held on tight to it on the way home, not wanting to lose it
i put it under my pillow for safe-keeping
come morning though, it was gone
in it's place lie another fresh, crisp bill
the straight edges try to hide its crooked origins
it's official alright, backed by the gold standard
capping the cavities in the flawed paradigm
it's a fairytale to be sure
i run my tongue a lot these days
trying to find something firm to bounce my words off of
searching for the old feel inside my mouth
all i find is an unfamiliar void
slimy. slippery.
like the fairy that took it from me
i want it back. i want it back. here's all the money i have
it's not much, but i emptied out my piggy bank
can i please just have it back?