Tag Archives: Anger


2 Sep

These bricks, in our hands,
rise up like storms to wreck our plans
on disagreement—to lay up, or pull down?  
These mortar joints and tools
break the arms of worker-fools.
For us, there is no harbor in this town.

If bricks could attest,
They’d raise a cairn to our unrest;
This post would tell of work yet to be done.
It can only point the way
back to where we quit the fray.
For us, there is no haven from the sun.

These bricks build choices;
they raise questions without voices.
The answers are chisels on a stone.
Bricks can compromise;
they won’t bruise or get black eyes!
For us, deals are made of flesh and bone.

These bricks will destroy—
rise up like lonely in a boy—
while, ignorant, I try to keep my life.
We can build—we can rise,
there is time to gain the prize.
For us, the shelter stone is in the strife.



10 Nov

cracked_glass man on knees

Between us, on a tabletop of glass, a working hand
becomes a hammer.  Blood does not spill, it boils.  

Shards lament the ways we will not mend, and how
the heart, like a fractal, repeats a pattern of breaks

and splits when magnified.  My heart shoves blood
along a crooked line until I heed the rattle-crack

and attend the bang of anger.  The embittered rackets
rise until the broken pieces lay at rest between us.




Amid Old Friends

31 Oct

Amid old friends, a working hand
comes down hard. Fear falls on the land
when a fist becomes a hammer,
a glass tabletop to shatter.
A man, afraid, will take a stand

when, not according to his plan,
he receives a humble brand
and is loath to drop the matter
amid old friends.

Shards sing out how rage will expand
into violence, will demand,
with a loud rattle of anger
and a bang of bad behavior,
that we heed a fool’s reprimand
amid old friends.

The Denial Of Violence

27 Oct

2.  The Denial Of Violence

It was in a seminary lecture on violence that God spoke, quietly and clearly, “John, violence is a problem for you.  You need some help.”  I went to my professor after class and told him about some of my failures.  Later, we met and he told me to participate in an anger management group and other counseling if I wanted to continue taking classes at that school.

I was embarrassed and alarmed again.  But I followed his recommendation and began to see how my angry, vengeful violence could be changed; that, in fact, the very meaning of my violence could be changed.  (continue)

Hot Water

27 Dec

Under house. Crawl
Space. Three days.
Water heater. Anger.

Plastic pipe. C-ment.
Sore back. Stiff neck.
Grave glare.

Eight-year-old. Small
Hands. Unafraid.
Chips in. Questions.

Satisfied. Crawls out.
My face. Turnabout.
Wide grin.


4 Oct

The Hulk, when he’s uptight,
lets his anger open wide.
But, often, he is right
to don his greenish hide.

Batman has a grimace,
a pained and sober frown.
He lives to certain justice
for that crazy-evil clown.

King Kong can be tender.
He’s more than a mere beast.
Of feelings he can render
a bit of love, at least.

Monster, man, or animal,
vengeance will bring forth—
now vehement, now brutal—
their horror and their worth.