Author Archives: Dave

Murph, the Butcher One of the Ms at the M&M Marketon Huntington Drivein the early 1950swas Murph, the butcher.Dad was a meat and potatoes kind of guy,and Mother was an excellent cookof beef, pork and lamb.It helps to havethe best … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Dorm Room Bull Session Romans 6:1-11 “Where sin increases, grace abounds all the more,”said Paul to his roommate, the sophomore philosophy majorwho offered this devil’s-advocate wager.“I propose to you: the more we sin, the more God’s grace shall abound. Thus, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Hap A lost transcript was the beginningof a life-altering event when I hoped to goto the University of Oregon.I enrolled instead at a smaller school in Idaho.Little did I know this course correctionwould mean so much. I took a summer … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Thomas the Apostle John 20:19-31 Faith is trust in the things you cannot see.Love is service to the least who are plain to see. Faith without love is life without compassion.Love without faith is life without a mission. You honor … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Home After a Glum Day Home after a glum day.Yellow crocuses are breaking ground. Jumping up and downand spinning around,my dog likes memore than I like myself. In my world,even the shadow has a shadow.I look for a placeto lie … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

[haiku] end of an affairsprinklers go off on schedulein the hard rain

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Autism Turns 21 It is hard for us to guess what’s on your mind.We question you until you answer yes.Outside of family, the world is not so kind. Sometimes it’s twenty questions until we findwhat triggers you. We understand your … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

A Moment of Kindness It was a long time ago,when I was young and in my prime.I was entering the city for Passover. Lo and behold, prisoners were leaving the city at the same timefor their executions. One was Jesus.He … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco We had a large brown radioin the living roomwhen we lived on Brighton Streetin Burbank.Mother and Dad listenedto their shows on Sunday afternoonwhile I played with a toyor worked a puzzle bookon the living room … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Cloud Formations On simmering summer afternoons,Mother and I stretched outon the backyard grassat our tiny wartime tract houseon Brighton Streetclose to the Lockheed plantand we tried to identify objectsin the clouds.Those were the yearsbefore smog commandeered the skiesover the L.A. … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Looking to the West for Matthew and Ginger We are looking to the west—to the old Smith Toweron the left, to tinted office towers on the right,to the piers and giant cranes of the Port of Seattle, to whitecaps on … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

Those People The Paleo-Indians, the first Americans,are checking out the neighborhood.Woe to mammoths and mastodons. Life is good in 1491.Conquistadors from faraway Iberiaclaim land for the king of Spain. Driven away by the Church of England,Pilgrims, Puritans and Roman Catholicsare … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on

[tanka] like a stuttering newsreelfrom the 40s,the same events and the same emotionsof joy and disappointmentroll across my mind

Posted in Poetry | Comments Off on