Evan LaBrant's Blog

you rose, and
August 27, 2015, 6:42 am
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As you rose, and I beheld
through blurred eyes
a golden vision,
bathed in golden fusion
Daylight, the hues just right
500 seconds in preparation for descendance
and this incandescence can’t even touch
the transcendent
nature of your glow
Eight point four minutes
these photons fought in emptiness
waves interfering and particles dueling
for the slim probability to kiss
your freckles
or the space between

And I fought no photons
No, I bathed in their diffusion
drank deep through eyes wide open
laying here, just hoping
I wouldn’t awake from this dream

But alas, you return
and eyes, supplanted by
superficial nerve endings
shut with a sigh
a deep exhalation: satisfaction
eyes closed, every nerve primed to fire
Like a blind man, sensations taken higher
Skin on skin, seventeen thousand-ths
of a second for these pulses to pass my brain stem
and backtrack to the chest where
butterflies, thus bombarded, take flight


to keep. And take.
August 8, 2015, 4:15 am
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Would you be poor with me?
Make love on the bedroom floor with me?
Just a mattress on the ground, no sheets to be found
I wanna see your chest heave
see your breath leave, fill the room
my lungs, my ears
I breath out, now you in, and we trade
Share the room, share the air

I’ve got nothing to give, everything to lose
Heart twisted and mangled by the things I choose
to hold onto
I try to forgive and forget
I’m not that man, not anymore
But Satan’s still chasing my soul
Screaming and throwing rocks into this gaping hole
I’ve got deep in my chest
And I scream back,
“You don’t own me, don’t hold me,
don’t know me! Get behind me!”

Would you be poor with me?
Chase the endless stars for endless nights and drink

You see, I’ve got nothing to give
everything to keep
And take. And taste.
Wanna taste your inside,
taste your soul
taste your whole being, head to toe
Taste and drink and have to keep
But what to give?
What to trade?
Is this an exchange?!
God knows I’m broke as hell

You say I’ll never be enough, and that’s my freedom
that’s the reason; My God that sounds sweet
I can’t say I’ve been given that choice:
to be less than enough and more than my most
Be a man, be a boy, wrapped up in Holy Ghost
To be tested and tried, purified in fire
like silver or gold, heart aflame
God above, stirring furiously this crucible

never enough, and yet already more

Would you be poor with me?
Make love in the winter cold with me?
Wrapped up warm and tight;
two bodies, one flesh find warmth and light

Would you be poor with me?
Make love on the bedroom floor with me?
Children of God unabashedly naked and unashamed
in the daylight
Drink, drink, drinking
deep from the well of life: love

If I have nothing to give, everything to take
would you lean in?
Or turn away?

persistent surf
August 8, 2015, 3:30 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

In your attempts to encounter and influence
the carapaceous encrustations of another’s mind
Be not a ship headlong and hell-bent
toward the rocky shore
But the soft surf, persistent
Wave on wave on wave

As you seek to break down the stoney façade
of the hermit, the bigot, the zealot
Be not the Bomb, intent on annihilation
forgetting the façade holds within
a child, a coward, a broken soul
But like the frost, enter brokenness
and so expanding, efface
Freeze, thaw; freeze and thaw.

“If you try to change it, you will ruin it.
Try to hold it, and you will lose it.”

Remember, my friend, monuments are constructed
not destructed
brick by boring brick
And all the sand on every shore
grain by grain
Wave on wave on wave

Remember, my friend, when you seek saliency
of sacrifice or sacrilege,
whatever the case may be,
that fertile soils cascade from craggy crevices
where weathered walls once stood defiant
The patient, painstaking labors of a
trillion, trillion, trillion tiny beings
Freezing, thawing; freezing and thawing

The water turns mountains into molehills

Broken Bowl
August 8, 2015, 3:19 am
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I prayed to be used
Broken bowl spilling Spirit sacrilegiously on
empty souls dying for a deep drink
Not a splash or trickle, wet skins with
parched mouths, parched throats
parched minds, parched souls
sapped strength, hardly living
barely alive
We live a lie

I prayed to reflect the Son
Broken mirror brightly beaming broken rays upon
matte black hearts just begging for the Light
For bright beams that penetrate, investigate,
ignite the great
Fire inside
Not shattered beams or burned out bulbs
half-lit faces with
dim eyes, dim words
dim thoughts, dim hope
Blind sight, blind to insight, groping through deep twilight
We barely live alive

I prayed You’d meet me here
in brokenness, contrite of heart and soul
Repentent, penitent; I know that’s redundant
You met me here: You said,
“I am that I am is near.
And you are that I am, My dear.
This brokenness, that’s where it starts
but not where it ends.”
And I thought that was it, thought that was the point
In my broken places, wholeness shows through
in my messed up choices, forgiveness shines true
Grace abounds, such sweet graces
to fill the holes and empty spaces

So how can I sit here, a broken bowl
splashing Spirit insufficiently on broken souls?
Brokenness: that’s where it starts, but never the end!
You’ve come in, cleaned house, glued up and made amends
Grabbed me out from the sin and mire

You spoke to recreate
A whole vessel, a brand new me
Not to splash and spill Your Spirit
like terra cotta shards
That’s Your job, God
to splash and spill
and overfill
Overflow, fill with joy

And I’ll learn to pour
deep draughts of sweet Spirit
To speak life where You call me
And be whole as You are wholly within me

Like Liquid Gold
August 8, 2015, 2:49 am
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Kissing you was like taking sips straight out of the honey jar
lips interlocked and lapping up life like liquid gold
poured straight from the labor of ten-thousand buzzing souls
All the birds and bees of the flowers and trees
Swept up and dried down inside the hive of the collective mind
And I drank deep the exhilarating luxury

Relaxed, and yet, taken aback
Jumped headlong, yet hesitant
Feet planted, I teedered and toddered
Untethered and unfettered, your lips firmly anchored onto mine

God, I’ve never been so thirsty in my life
I’m a naked man all alone on a desert island
with no clothes, no spring or drop of rain
to quench this mouth or cool this skin
And you’ve handed me the end of a hose
Tapped straight to the deepest well ever drilled

Be Made; Behold
August 8, 2015, 2:39 am
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In this world there is
beauty to be made,
beauty to behold
Can we truly ever witness
the glimmer of a soul?
The spark that lights a thousand fires
inside the deepest darkest chasms
when gentle breath on which is blown,
the flames are deeper stoked within us
Plural lights seem separated
tiny beacon lighthouse islands
singular and isolated
pulsating dots that probe an ocean

But in the source we find them not singular
not self-sufficient, self-sustaining
incandescents; fluorescence waning
Instead, we find a silvered lens
reflects in which that sphere of fusion
three-fold elements in all dimensions
burning bright: the providential Union
This light lights up such beautiful things
creative power in created beings

Our beauty, two-fold manifesting
found in Nature’s full undressing
and peeled back, the covers seems
such superficial, wistful things
Dare I ask from God the nude?
The barest breast, the finest muse

Indeed, I beg and barter
for thirst fulfilled and spirit’s need
A beauty flashed, it far surpasses
the need, the want, the wanton haunt
The flattered, fettered, feckless flaunts
most minuscule, most finite jewels
while all around an endless ocean, a constant motion
the locomotive, the emotive
evocative and provocative
spin and dance, eddy, flurry
It’s in this ocean we swim and float