Phoenix

Wrapped in your cocoon I am
safe until midnight when your
streetlamp gas fills the city
with orange haze, and violent
youth picket locks of young girls,
and the howls of desert dogs
are muffled inside garage door
fortresses laced with blue cocaine.

Outside I hear
your faint voice in alleyways, your face
in the dust of a 45 drive-by.
I am surrounded. Overhead,
the sky dims, and the moonlight
is stagelight for riot and revolution.

But since your hands are old,
I will rise and perch as the Phoenix,
jumping rooftops until I burst
in bloom over your city.

Dearly Departed Sun

from Friday, March 6, 2009

I told you I would follow you
until the path to your heart
became an open womb,
for me to enter, and rest.

You are not near to me
anymore. So I wait,
listen, and together
with the silence, weep.

Overhead, the moon lifts
her skirt, And dances
just like you did, before
our first summer storm.

In Spring, You Too Will Bloom

from Wednesday, March 4, 2009

My love
in the morning light,
lingered above my burning bed.

At dawn, the doves fly,
and a rose bush stirs
outside my window,
you still belong to me.

I reach my hand
to your neck
and mingle
my tears with yours.

I beg you not to leave
me alone
as twilight is coming
and
shadows of strangers
seek me in the night.

I have no candle left
for you to find me,
my love, please
follow this whisper
of orange blossoms
from my open window

You kissed me once
and now you have me
unravished, and pure.

Sometimes when your scent
Crosses my path, I am
charmed by your breath.
My feet sit in water dark,
and deep, I am bare,
and still, with just
a little light.

Part 8 of 23: Song of the Sunday Ghost

from Monday, January 12, 2009

I told you this house was upside down,
its hard-wood ceilings and spackled
stucco floors still stain my soft feet
with blood blisters, white with dust.

We could make love on holy ground.
You tease me with your blouse instead.

Part 4 of 23: What My Mother Whispered to the Whaler

from: Saturday, January 10, 2009

"Drink me,
before
I am sweetened by my sorrows."

A Story to Tell

from Thursday, January 8, 2009

A short film created for Central Christian Church in Mesa, Arizona. The goal was to create a modern version of an aspect of the Christmas story. Hence, the backpacker-shepherds. A little cheesy, but hey, it's in HD! :D

HD Version HERE: http://vimeo.com/2754811

Credits:

Tim Allen - Camera, After Effects
Mark Miller - Production Manager, Additional After Effects
Jonathan Roberts - Writer
Directed by Jonathan Roberts and Tim Allen
Shot on location at South Mountain Park.

Script:

Tonight we watch the Western star in the wild sky
And we tread a broke-down path beaten by massive-
monsoon-winds and the clouded desert sun.

We pant, we trod, we take six thousand bold steps
and brace our strength for this last and great ascent.

We are shepherds and we have come to touch this wild sky
With our hands raised high and our knees bent low.
On this peak we stand as the guards and wide-eyed prayer-
warriors of the heavy-hearted, hemmed-in people we love.

We lay down sweat-soaked shoulder packs and walking sticks
And we bend our knees to keep our people at peace and rest.

We feel the slingshot rocks of this barren face tremble and
vibrate like a swollen beehive under our bare-skinned knees.

“Hush! Wait! Don’t speak!
Rise! Run! And tell this Joy”

Hemmed-in by mountains of sin, we can see the glory
Of our Lord fall like the light of seven thousand dancing stars
Filling the sunken valley below with hope in the distance.

The sky erupts in torrent and fury of sound and silence
And the chorus of high angels lights up the city in color,
With kited small circled-spheres of night and half-light,
rising and spinning through refracted red heat storm hazes.

Our faces are all alight with good news and great joy,
We rush and stumble back down the desert mountain
Like little kids on an early Christmas morning because
We are the swift and blessed ones…
and we have a story to tell.