A Satisfying Day

We walked the beach today,
she made a remark about all the trash
laying around,
I told her it was from the weekend crowd;

“it’s our human footprint” I reply,
“our legacy,
everywhere humans go
their trash is sure to follow;”

“you’re always so dark and negative” she says,
and in my mind I think ‘she’s right of course;’

I wish it were not so.

We talked about current events and
certain actors behaving badly,
“I’m not sure if he’s delusional or a genius,” I say,
“maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing;”

they say bad pr is better than no pr at all.

We discussed my dream from the night before,
(actually I did, she could have cared less,)
“What do you think it means?” I ask,
“I don’t know” she says, ”I never know what
your dreams mean, what do you think it means?”
“I don’t know” I reply;

and that was the end of that.

Walking back I fight the voice whispering
inside my head to go to a bar
and get wasted,
along with not giving in
to the inner urge telling me to stare
at the very attractive young lady
laying on a towel next to her boyfriend,
with a very skimpy string bikini on.

All-in-all,
between trash and dreams,
and small personal victories over
basic human weakness and flaws;

it was a very satisfying day.
.
.

American Dreams

Like most American Dreams
it only lasts for a moment,
but eventually,
like all American Dreams,
it will be bought and sold,
followed by mass production and a
slick marketing campaign,
until it is neatly packaged,
sitting on the shelves of Wal-Mart’s,
where it will become the next big thing;

for a little while.

Hemmingway lived the dream,
now you can tour his house in Key West
for seven fifty per person,
complete with a Sloppy Joe’s souvenir mug,
at Jack London Square in Oakland,
the crowds gather to pay twice the going rate,
to eat and drink where Jack did;

or so they say.

On the beaches of Daytona and Myrtle Beach,
the doctors and lawyers have even bought the 1% dream,
in their black boots, cut-off shirts and bandanas,
riding on chromed, raked, custom paint job Harley Davidsons,
as they pretend to be outlaw, highway biker-killers for a week,
but their perfect haircuts, well-trimmed beards, and money wads
give them away.

It would seem that dreams in America
are big business,
so if you ever find an original one,
grab it up quick;

while you can still afford
to pay the price.
.
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Closer Than a Brother

Search my mind and heart O Lord,
remove the darkness and doubt,
shelter me from the enemy
waiting outside these prison walls,
ready to abuse and exploit
even the slightest weakness,
help me overcome the anger,
pull me from the turmoil,
defeat the fleshly lusts,
destroy the deadly perversions,
deliver me from the consuming evil;

let me find refuge in You.

Re-create all that I am,
make me in the mirror
of Your holy image,
bathe me in the wonder
of Your magnificent light,
fill me with Your wondrous love.

Nothing is beyond
Your powerful touch,
all things are possible
for You O Lord,
even this.

To You do I surrender,
in You do I trust,
before You do I fall,
into Your hands
do I commend my spirit;

You who are my King,
You who are my shining light,
You who guides my every step
through the eternal darkness
of this long black night;

You who stands by my side
closer than a brother.
.
.

Thanks Hank

The squirrels become playful in September,
running to and fro,
chasing each other up and down trees
and telephone poles,
it makes me wonder what they know
that I don’t.

They drive Petey, my Jack Russell terrier bonkers,
he whines and pulls at his leash,
dying to sink his sharp little teeth
into fresh killed squirrel hide,
life is easy in September.

I have been recovering from spinal surgery
for almost two months now,
I’ve learned if I sit very still
the pain running down my leg isn’t so bad,
I thought the pain would be gone by now
but I guess it is not to be,
sometimes I think it is for the best,
we need a little pain in life
to keep it all in perspective,
a gentle reminder,
a little thorn in the flesh
as the apostle Paul would say.

I picked up another Bukowski book the other day,
it was the first time in years,
I read one called ’35 seconds’ in the store
and it made me laugh out loud,
so I bought it,

“and that’s how
I hurt my
arm” – 35 Seconds, Charles Bukowski

I guess you had to be there
to really get it,
he truly was a literary genius,
despite what the main stream
poetry world might think,
you have to read him very closely
to understand the depth of his pain,
and you have to read him even closer
to grasp the inner humor
that carried him through it,
most never get that close.

For most it is more
than they can bear,
they want their poetry
just like they want their life,
clean and sterile,
full of fantasy and fluff,
fresh from the minds
of those who never venture
outside their keyboards,
with freshly printed MFA degrees
hanging on the ‘studio’ wall,
minimizing and dismissing
anything that is uncomfortable
or real, calling it sloppy,
searching for technical and grammatical
correctness within words that are
empty and dead,
of course they don’t see it this way,
they would tell you just the opposite,
but their words give them away,
thank goodness he lived it for us,
so we wouldn’t have to.

As I read him,
I wondered if he ever got the chance
to know the Lord,
not the one pushed by religion
or other man-made institutions,
but the real One,
the One who heals,
the One who saves,
the One who forgives,
the One who softly whispers
in the middle of the night:

“Don’t be afraid, just believe.”

the friend who sticks closer
than a brother,
my King,
my Everything.

I feel I know him well enough
(Bukowski that is),
that if he ever had the opportunity
like I did,
he would have seen the truth,
he would have understood the message,
his eyes would have been blind no more,
but I guess I’ll never know.

I think about how nice it would be
when I finally do enter the world
prepared for those who belong to the Lord
if I saw him there,
his dead pan, unassuming face,
quietly watching,
silently observing,
finally at peace,
completely healed.

How great it would be
if I could thank him
for exploring the parts
of the darkness I never could,
the parts that I would never
have survived,
the parts that would have destroyed me
forever,
then for writing it all down
so I didn’t have to,
for helping me along this journey
when no one else could.

“Thanks Hank.”
.
.

Back In The Day (from Lifesongs 8)

I got out an old video tape last night
while riding the exercise bike,
or as my youngest daughter would say;

something from ‘back in the day’,

yeah, I put Woodstock in the VCR,
and no I wasn’t there,
although sometimes I think
I must have been the only one
who wasn’t;

but it brought back a lot of old memories,
so it was kind of like I was there.

Wavy Gravy and the Hog Farm,
the Merry Pranksters,
living for the moment
like some lost ancient tribe,
it made me wonder
where they are today,
probably dot.com execs,
living in the hills
around San Francisco,
in multi-million dollar mansions,
or dead (farewell Kesey).

Richie Havens,
righteous and dignified,
singing of freedom and truth;

as if he really knew.

Canned Heat and the Bear,
bouncing around the stage
like a hippopotamus in heat,
lithe and graceful;

poetry in motion.

Joan Baez,
rambling on about
county jails and causes,
blah blah blah,
fast forward,
I suppose she was cool
for the times,
but a little hard to take today;

the wounded dove,
sad, little puppy dog eye look
gets a bit old.

Daltry,
young and god-like,
with Moon
wild and crazy eyed,
playing drums with demonic possession,
as Townsend
sends whirlybirds round and round.

The workout came to an end,
there was other things
I had to take care of,
so I didn’t watch the rest of the video,
but it was enough,
memories from ‘back in the day’
only go so far,
before you remember
how badly you wanted them
to be over;

when you were living them.
.
.

Up Here

But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God – having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with them.         II Timothy 3:1-5

Up here I hear your voice,

whispering through the

early morning silence,

up here I am never alone,

up here You walk with me;

comforting me,

carrying me,

guiding me,

protecting me;

down there,

You are reduced to a psychology,

a feel-good philosophy,

a self-improvement technique,

a better way of life,

blaspheming Your name,

making a mockery of Your kingdom,

denying the power;

forever looking but never seeing,

forever listening but never hearing;

You are so much more,

far beyond all that

our limited minds can comprehend,

more than anyone can fathom,

giver of life,

creator of all things;

the Great I Am,

the holy King of the universe,

the Alpha and the Omega;

Everything.

.

.

so you want to be a writer? by Charles Bukowski

[advice from the master, Hank you were the best]

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.

if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.

if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.

if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.

if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.

if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.

if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.

unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.

unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.
.
.

The Hard Way/First Good Day (from Lifesongs 7)

The Hard Way

It was a hot day today,
humid and sticky,
the lawn needs to be mowed;

it can wait.

I hate yard work,
I always have,
if it were up to me,
(and if I could afford it)
I’d have the whole damn lawn
covered in asphalt,
or better yet
I’d live in some
maintenance-free condo.

I always wait
until it’s just about too late,
when the grass is so high
the mower can barely cut it down,
but in the end
it always gets cut,
just like in the end
I always do the right thing,
it’s just the way I am;

but I like to push it
right to the limit.

She called today,
I didn’t know what to say,
so I didn’t say much,
she cried,
I felt bad,
I don’t think she’ll call again;

another one
who found out the hard way.

Maybe it won’t rain all summer,
and the grass will dry up and die
so I’ll never have to cut it again.
__________________________

First Good Day

It was the first good day of spring,
warm but not hot,
a mommy holding her little boy’s hand
while daddy puts his arm around their little girl
going for a walk kind of day.

Broke out the grill for dinner,
barbecued some chicken and a leftover
london broil,
felt the warm sunshine and light cool breeze
blowing softly on my skin,
it was the way a day should be;

calm and quiet.

Even some of the pain felt less,
but not completely,
warm sunshine and light cool breezes
are never gonna take that away;

completely.

She sat beside me as I wrote,
neither of us saying a word,
we never do and sometimes
that says a lot;

but not really.

Yes it was a very magnificent day,
it was the kind of day
on which a person could lay back,
take a deep breath and
die;

and feel very okay about it.
.
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Psalm 103

For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.                 Psalm 103:11-14

When I turn to You
light comes pouring in,
darkness slips away,
hope rises within;

I am set free.

You are a sweet summer breeze,
a clear mountain stream,
a warm, gentle touch,
innocence and purity;

truth complete.

As far as the east is from the west
have You removed my transgressions from me,
as a father has compassion on his child
have You had compassion on me.

Through Your unfathomable sacrifice
have I been redeemed from the dead,
by Your mercy and grace
has my soul been restored.

Forever shall I belong to You,
forever shall I sing of Your greatness,
forever shall I praise Your name,
forever shall I love You above all others.

Let Your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven,
remove all that is not of You,
cleanse the filth and iniquity
abiding within this imperfect temple,
make me into a new creation;

fill me with Your love.

You are my strength,
You are my rock,
You are my comfort and joy,
You are my God;

You are my Everything.
.
.

Jungle Law

“How long before the pizza gets here?” she asks,
“45 minutes to an hour” I reply;

“Damn! that’s a long time, I’m hungry!
what are we gonna do until then?”

“We could have sex” I say,
“What else are you gonna do in Cleveland,
in the middle of winter?”
“Ha ha, very funny”;

so we watch TV instead.

I guess that’s the way it is when you get older,
there was a time when it wasn’t so,
but times have changed,
rules are being re-written,
everything is out the window,
take the news for example,
once we were the good guys,
talking about justice and fair play,
now it’s kill or be killed,
do it to them before they do it to us,
the ends justify the means,
anything goes in the name of national welfare,
only the strong survive,
jungle law in a world of dog eats dog;

I suppose desperate times demand that.

There is a knock on the door,
it’s the pizza guy,
I return to the bed triumphantly,
bringing home a freshly killed
pepperoni and sausage pizza,
survival in the brutal jungle,
feeling just like Tarzan;

“Me want woman” I say proudly;

“You’re so damn strange” she laughs,
“Feed me and you can have anything you like,”
smiling I think to myself;

maybe things haven’t changed that much.
.
.

Honey Hush

“Honey hush,”
she whispers gently,
bringing a peace to my soul
never before felt,
while time stands still,
as I attempt to catch my breath,
coming to the realization
she has me completely;

she has me forever.

Standing on ground never before stood,
I am left somewhat confused,
wondering just where it is
this road is leading,
knowing only
that I cannot turn back now;

even if I wanted to.

This fragile thread
binds us to one another,
in ways that cannot be explained,
a world within a world,
as I pray for it to hold
just a little longer,
until rescue is in sight;

“honey hush.”
.
.

Days Like This/Behind the Crimson Door

'all things pass, all things move on; even this'


Desperation breeds invention,
creativity the key to survival,
it’s hard to give
when there’s nothing left to offer,
even harder to take,
when you’ve taken all there is to take;

we’re all just holding on.

Today was a picture perfect day,
not a cloud in the sky,
not too hot,
not too cold,
cool gentle breeze blowing,
sweet and pure;

days like this are the worse;

the sadness comes seeping to the surface,
the yearning for escape softly whispers,
the need to anesthetize cries out;

days like this
always make me want to get buzzed,
days like this
always make me want to forget.

So many traps,
so many snares,
so many one-way roads
with destinations leading nowhere;

never going down that path no more.

Darkness lives,
just outside this crimson door,
waiting like a stranger in the shadows,
slithering as a snake
back into its hidden hole,
purpose has no meaning here,
clarity just a slip of the tongue,
silence fills the endless void,
words die like falling leaves on a tree;

days like this
never end.

The obsession grows,
steady and slow,
without beginning or end,
distant clouds on the horizon,
wandering in this wilderness,
the enemy waits for the moment;

the storm is never far away.

Outside,
there is talk of change
as some hold on to the hope,
still others grow cold,
either way the sun rises and sets,
with or without our consent;

when the Son of Man returns
will there be any faith
to find?

This moment no longer moves,
out here,
among the frozen wasteland,
dark and endless,
forgotten and alone,
cold to the bitter bone,
old voices fill the air,
cries of the raging beast,
secret sanctuaries
hiding within the chaos,
butterflies flowing on the wind,
lost somewhere within nighttime shadows,
waiting for something more,
madness my old friend,
I can no longer deny your sweet touch;

it always begins like this,
it always ends as something else,

like the lead character
in a Fellini film,
wandering through fields
of golden nonsense,
swept away by the growing hush,
traveling a hundred miles
to move an inch;

the crimson door
knows no pity.
.
.

SON

For those of you who have read my book you know that this poem is from that. What you don’t know is the story behind it. In September of 1978 I had a son born who was put up for adoption. His birth mother was named Jacquelyn Emanuel Magee. She was a woman who I had lived with for approximately a year prior to joining the Navy. We met at the Whitehouse Nightclub. She was from Eau Claire, Michigan. She graduated from Eau Claire High School in 1972. She was short (about 5’) and had red hair. At the time she had just completed a divorce from a man named Marshall Magee who lived in Eau Claire. She had a son from that marriage named Danny who was living in foster care. She had a brother named Richard Emanuel . Her mother was married to a man who was the father of Terry Diltz who went to Brandywine High School. His name was George. When I first began seeing her she was living with her Grandparents on Naomi Road in the St. Joe/Benton Harbor region. After I joined the Navy she was living with friends who I did not know.

I talked to her on the phone shortly after the birth and she told me she had only gotten to hold the baby for a few minutes, that it was a boy and she had named him John (I don’t know if that was the name that stayed with him or not, I doubt that it did). The baby was put up for adoption by an agency out of Grand Rapids, Michigan (I don’t remember the name). I only know they sent me a form to fill out with my family history and a consent form I signed, allowing the baby to be put up for adoption. At the time I was in the Navy where I was a student at the Naval Nuclear Training Facility in West Milton, NY. Years later (around 1984) while on patrol on the USS Georgia, SSBN 729, a trident submarine, I wrote this poem.

Over the last 32 years I have made several attempts to locate this son without any success. I thought my best hope would be to locate the mother (Jackie), but I haven’t been successful there either. Recently I filled out an application for the tv show ‘Searching For’ on the Oprah Winfrey Network to enlist their help in locating this child. I don’t know if I will be selected or not. But then I thought what can it hurt to put this information on this blog? I know the odds are stacked against it but if there is a chance that any people on facebook or any of the thousands of people who have viewed my blog(yes, I am amazed at the stats on my blog also) (It’s not just in this country either) know something about this it might help. So if anyone does have any information please contact me. Thank you.

SON

Somewhere he waits
and I listen,
as the silence
grows painfully louder.

SON;

I wish I could tell you that you’re mine
but you’re not and never were,
still there is that bond
and I guess that is the way
it will always be.

SON;

I wish I could show you
the beauty of your shining sisters’ smiles,
I imagine you must be
very much like they are,
except they are mine
and you are not;

and never will be.

SON;

I make no excuses
for the things that took place,
and I wouldn’t have any
even if I did,
to be honest
it didn’t have a thing
to do with you,
as hollow as that may sound,
it’s just the way
things worked out,
but still I do remember;

which is more
than I left to you.
.
.

My Everything

Help me to stand O Lord
at the foot of Your glorious throne,
lead me down paths of righteousness,
teach me Your sacred and holy ways,
shelter me from the enemy silently waiting outside;

raise me up above the chaos and confusion.

Remove this anger and turmoil
living deep within my troubled soul,
defeat the lusts and perversions
quietly lurking inside my weakened flesh,
deliver me from the evil surrounding my every side;

let me take refuge in You O Lord.

Silence the iniquity and filth
spewing from my foolish tongue,
let every word from my lips
bring praise to Your precious name,
let Your mercy and grace flow like a mighty river;

fill me with Your unspeakable love.

Use this humble vessel,
to declare Your marvelous splendor,
let Your magnificent light shine
like a beacon upon a hill.

When the alluring nighttime darkness,
provocatively beckons my searching soul,
You are there softly calling out,
showing me the way home,
leading me back into Your waiting arms.

Without You all the words are dead,
without You there is no light,
without You there is no tomorrow,
without You there is no hope.

You are my truth,
You are my breath,
You are my life;

You are my Everything.
.
.

Sermon/Poetry Reading

     Today we are going to be reading from the Book of John, Chapter 6, versus 25 through 70. These passages follow John 6, versus 1 though 15 in which Jesus feeds a crowd of five thousand from five small barley loaves and two small fish. Not only did He feed the crowd but the leftovers had filled twelve baskets. They also follow versus 16 through 24 in which Jesus walks on the water to meet His disciples in a boat after leaving the crowd on the other side of the lake.

     Verse 25 begins with Jesus chastising the crowd for seeking him for the wrong reasons. He says they are seeking him because of the food he provided the day before, when he had miraculously fed 5,000 with 5 small barley loaves and two small fish.

     In verse 27 Jesus tells them: “Do no work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. On him God the Father has placed his seal of approval.”

     In verses 32 – 33 He tells them:  “ I tell you the truth, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”

     When the crowd asked him to give them this bread in verse 34 Jesus tells them in verse 35: “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.”

     In verse 51 He tells them: “ I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

     In verses 54-57 He says: “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my bloods is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me.”

     This was a hard teaching which was lost on many of the listeners. How could they eat His flesh and drink His blood? Was He espousing cannibalism? They failed to understand He was speaking of spiritual food and drink. That unless they accepted the sacrifice that He was about to provide they could never see eternal life. That unless they ate this spiritual flesh and drank this spiritual blood that only He could provide, they could not grow and be nurtured spiritually. They could never be ‘born again’.

     Like I said this was a hard teaching. One that even many of His disciples struggled with. Up until now Jesus was the biggest show of His day, and they were part of the act, they were part of the band! They were like groupies at a rock show. They were basking in the adoration of the crowd; they were mesmerized by the intoxication of instant fame. But now the show was over. Now Jesus was teaching something that many found distasteful. They were following someone most of the crowd now considered a madman. Now they were standing on a rocky road facing some hard truth, and it was a difficult pill to swallow. Now they had to decide whether to continue following Jesus without the adoration of the crowds or turn away. Unfortunately many chose to no longer follow. Of course the Lord knew this would happen.

     In verses 64-66 we read: “Yet there are some of you who do not believe.” For Jesus had know from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled him.” From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.

     Even though Jesus knew it would happen, don’t you think this was a great disappointment to Him? I think it would be, remember our Lord had a flesh body with all the emotions and feelings that we have. To have so many think He was a madman and no longer want to follow Him must have been a very great disappointment. 

     In verse 67 Jesus then turns to the twelve, the twelve that He had personally hand-picked, the twelve who had been by His side from the beginning of His earthly ministry, the twelve who He loved immensely and asks: “You do not want to leave too, do you?”

     Once more, like so many other times in the Gospels, it was Peter who spoke for the group:

“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

     Wonderful, beloved Peter, who so often gave quick, impetuous answers when the rest of the group remained silent. Peter, who it seems, never stopped to measure his words, but immediately spoke what was on his mind and in his heart. Words that often times earned him rebuke and chastisement, but also gave insight to who and what Peter truly was. Like a bright, precocious child, who can exasperate but at the same time invoke powerful feelings of love, there was nothing false or pretentious about Peter.

     Let’s think about what Peter was saying ‘Lord even if we wanted to leave, where else are we going to go? There is nothing else.’ And Peter was exactly right. If a person truly believes Jesus is who He says he is, knowing that everyone born must die, then where else are they going to go in this life? Are they going to turn to Buddha, Mohammed, Confucius or any other philosopher or religious leader? Are they going to turn to material things or family? Are they going to embrace Wicca or worship sun gods? Are they going to become atheists? Where are they going to turn? The answer, just like Peter voiced, is that there is nothing else. Because if Jesus Christ is the truth, then everything else is false.

     Imagine the joy and comfort those words of Peter must have given the Lord. I think at that point Jesus was so filled with love for Peter and the others that he could barely contain it. He said in verse 70: “Have I not chosen you, the Twelve? Yet one of you is a devil!” He must have been so proud of these twelve men, who remained with Him when so many others walked away, yet He knew, sorrowfully I believe, that one would eventually betray Him.

     So what is the message for us? The message is this: We too must accept the sacrifice of Jesus’ Christ for our sins. We too, must eat Jesus’ flesh and drink His blood if we are to remain in Him, if we are to continue growing spiritually and live.

     Jesus did not say He was a way to God. Jesus says in John 14:6 “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

     Jesus Christ is the life and through Him we have life. Without Him we have nothing.

____________________________________________________

Clem asked me if I would read some of my poems that reflected thanksgiving and I told him I would. After reflecting on it I decided on a couple. This first one was written after I had left my job at PSEG. One night I woke up in the middle of the night and felt a fear unlike anything I have ever felt in my life. I had just left a job that paid more than 100k/year, walking away from medical benefits and an almost unimaginable mountain of debt. Between my mortgage and credit cards I was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt, and I felt completely overwhelmed. All I could think of is what a fool I was. I prayed for help and then I opened up the bible, and the very first words I read were Jesus’ words in Mark 5:36 “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” Later I wrote this poem based on that experience, it is called Just Believe.

Just Believe

Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”   Mark 5:36

in the middle of the night

I awake,

gripped with fear,

overcome by the immensity,

afraid of the unknown road ahead,

thinking of all the possible dangers,

unable to control even the smallest detail,

completely inadequate and out of control;

heading on a collision course

with disaster;

then I remember the places

from where I have come,

all the doors that have been opened,

all the chains which have been removed,

the love and grace that has brought me

to this place,

and I hear His soft, cool voice,

gently whispering in the

nighttime darkness;

“Don’t be afraid, just believe”

the fear fades away,

the doubt dissolves into nothing,

the darkness turns to light,

there is only love,

there is only Him;

and that is all that matters;

in the deepest depths,

on the highest heights,

He is there

guiding my path,

showing the way,

the Friend who stands by my side,

closer than a brother,

the King who laid down His life,

that I might live;

the One who I will love

forever.

_______________________

     As Christians many of us are really good at talking the talk, but we’re not always so good at walking the walk. I think this is why so many of us can identify so completely with the Apostle Peter. Peter could talk the talk. In Matthew 26:33, after Jesus told the apostles that they would all fall away on account of him, as prophesied by the prophet Zechariah, it was Peter who declared “Even if all fall away on account of you. I never will.” When Jesus went on to tell him that he would disown him three times that very night, Peter insisted in verse 26:35 “Even if I have to die with you. I will never disown you.” Of course as we all know, Peter couldn't walk the walk when it came to his declaration of dying with the Lord. Although later in his life he would walk the walk, being crucified upside down, as many experts believe, because he didn't think he was worthy to be crucified in the same manner the Lord was.

     Peter often spoke and reacted based on his emotions, like so many of us. Often making bold statements that he couldn't fulfill. But one of the most redeeming traits of Peter was his honesty. I think it was this honesty that made Peter cry out “Go away from me Lord, I am a sinful man!” in Luke 5:8. Peter recognized the holiness and glory in Jesus, and as a result he saw the filth and sin in his own life, he saw himself as he really was, as reflected by the light of Jesus Christ. This poem was written in that same light. One day after dealing with people in the campground, the Lord kind of held a mirror up in front of my face and I saw the anger and hate, but most of all the hypocrisy of my thoughts and emotions. As is usually the case, and as in the case of Peter in Luke 5, it wasn't my feelings or thoughts that mattered, it was the answer from the Lord that truly mattered. Jesus knew Peter better than Peter knew himself, just as He know us better than we know ourselves. He knows how we were formed, He knows our weakness’ and temptations, He knows our doubts and fears and His answer is “Don’t be afraid.” This poem is called Once Again:

Once Again

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink. When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me , Lord; I am a sinful man!” For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.” So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him. Luke 5:4-11

back in the gutter,

covered with the filth and stench,

full of dark angry thoughts,

pointing fingers,

passing unfounded judgment;

once again;

wrapped up in the cares of this world,

thinking of short term solutions,

lost in the self absorbing pity,

searching for flesh driven answers,

drowning in vanity and pride;

once again;

go away from me Lord,

I am a sinful man!

instead You reach out Your mighty hand,

pulling me from the murky quagmire,

softly whispering in my ear:

“Don’t be afraid;”

once again;

O Lord,

I don’t know why You

suffered and died,

for someone like me,

but I know that You did;

I don’t know how someone like You,

could love someone like me,

but I know that You do;

I don’t know how someone

as perfect as You,

could save someone like me,

from the fate I so

undeniably deserve;

but I know that You will;

thank you my precious Lord,

for suffering and dying

that I might live,

thank you for Your magnificent

mercy and grace,

thank you for the miraculous gift

of Your Holy Spirit;

thank you for Your light and truth,

amidst the darkness and lies,

thank you for Your precious love,

when there is no love to be found;

thank you for this peace

You have placed in my heart,

thank you for restoring all that was lost,

thank you for allowing me to be

a son of the Living God;

thank you for the blowing wind

and swaying trees,

thank you for the nighttime moon

and morning sun,

thank you for this precious gift of life,

thank you for every breath;

let every knee bow down

before Your glorious presence,

let every voice

praise Your mighty name,

let every tongue confess

that You and You alone are LORD;

forever and ever.

.

.

.

All the Days of My Life

Purify me O Lord,
like gold in the refining furnace;
remove the iniquities and impurities,
fill me with Your precious fire,
let me reflect Your glorious light,
make me shine like a jewel
standing in the morning sun,
help me to overcome
this body of flesh,
so desperately trying to drag me back
into the filth and perversion
of the dark and lonely prison
You have freed me from;

praise Your magnificent mercy and grace.

Give me victory
over the enemy who would destroy
all that is perfect and pure,
save me from the illusions and lies
that blind and deceive,
prepare me for the coming battle;

bring me home to You.

Teach me Your holy and righteous ways,
lead me down these mysterious paths,
mold the desires of my heart,
guide me into the center of Your will,
be my Master and King,
let me serve You faithfully;

for all the days of my life.
.
.

In The Morning

In the morning when I awake,
You are there,
flooding my soul with hope,
removing the internal darkness,
bringing comfort and relief,
renewing my strength,
providing the joy and peace
I so desperately need.

Being where You are
is all I ask,
standing at the foot of Your throne
is all I desire,
for You shall provide
everything I need,
You shall wipe away
every tear.

What words can describe
Your mighty glory?
What thoughts can compare
with Your magnificent truth?
You who made the heavens,
You who command the seas,
You who control the winds,
You who know the hearts
of every man.

I fall down in humility and awe
at the feet of Your wondrous presence;
let every breath
be breathed for You,
let every lip
praise Your holy name.

O mighty Lord,
let me worship You
forever.
.
.

Do Not Fear

Alone in the shadows,
lost with no way home,
frightened and confused,
heading for destinations unknown;
do not worry,
do not fear;

God is near.

In the darkness,
in the light,
within the sorrow,
within the joy,
through the suffering,
through the pain,
through times both good and bad,
do not worry,
do not fear;

God is near.

All things pass,
all things fade,
but His mercy endures forever,
His love knows no bounds,
so rest your tired head
my troubled and frightened child,
do not worry,
do not fear;

God is near.
.
.

So Shall I

It gets harder everyday,
sometimes it feels as though
my bones are on fire,
half the time I’m not sure
if the pain is physical, mental or spiritual;

or a combination
of all three.

I know it’s the diabetes,
it is serious now,
no more fooling around,
no more slight inconvenience,
it has become the monster
all the experts said it would,
a crazed killer
without conscious,
a psychopathic beast
who knows neither mercy
or compassion;

devouring everything
in its path.

Sometimes I just want
to get a bottle of whiskey,
take a few percocettes
put some Billy Gibbons guitar
on the headphones,
make the pain melt away,
drift off into the fog,
never come back,
sometimes I just want to
make it stop,
physically, mentally
and spiritually;

so easy,
so final.

But that would be the easy way,
the path of least resistance,
the broad gate,
the road that leads to destruction;

He is worth more than that.

In the evening darkness
I search for His light,
in the morning silence
I listen for His voice,
He is there by my side,
giving me strength
when there is none,
picking me up
when I am down,
He will not let me fail,
He will not let me give up,
He has defeated this world,
and through Him;

so shall I.
.
.

A Son of God

But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God John 1:12-13


How great is Your wisdom O Lord,
how deep Your knowledge;
Your words are a soothing ointment,
healing the minds and souls of those
seeking Your mercy and grace,
Your justice and truth a mighty mountain
which never bends or breaks.

Fill me with Your spirit,
lead me through the dark and hidden places,
lift me up above the mire and filth,
guide me down paths of righteousness,
show me Your perfect will,
let me be Your servant forever.

In You will I place my trust,
in You will I find my hope,
through You will I seek shelter,
through You shall I overcome.

You are my King,
You are my Master,
You are my Lord,
You are my God;

You are my Everything.

Without You there is no today,
without You there is no tomorrow,
without You there is no beginning,
without You there is no end.

You alone have brought me to this place,
restoring all that was lost,
providing long awaited refuge,
bringing joy where there was none.

You alone have made it possible,
to become a son
of the living God.
.
.

The Best We Can

Everywhere there is anger,
everywhere there is darkness,
everywhere there is ridicule,
everywhere there is despair;

men no longer search for truth,
men no longer thirst for righteousness,
it has become much too dangerous,
political correctness has become
the brave new frontier;

compromise the name of the game.

The world as we know it is falling down,
with no relief in sight;
answers no longer have meaning,
questions are no longer asked.

I close my eyes
and imagine days gone by,
I close my eyes
and see days too come,
I hold on to the hope
while letting go of the reality,
I search for winding, empty roads
where few have ever traveled,
settling in the end
for safety and comfort,
following paths well taken.

Broken promises and lost paradises
tumble down,
like building block houses
on a child’s playroom floor.

Failure hurts,
fantasies and foolish feelings lost,
forever slipping from your grasp,
always just one reach too far,
always a little more than you can hold.

Time and flesh fade,
until finally
words are all that is left,
when in truth
they are all there ever was.

Overcoming the night
is never an easy task,
yet still we try,
the best we can.

Letting go of dreams
was never part of the plan,
yet still we do,
the best we can.

Somewhere little boys are free
to play the games of men,
while dreaming of days ahead,
without running from the demons
of their past.

I am still here,
quietly waiting,
I will wait as long
as You require,
I will wait forever.

I belong to You,
I always have,
I always will;
You are my Lord,
You are my Master,
You are my God;

You are my Everything.
.
.

Seige

Outside this worn and battered fortress
the enemy patiently waits,
laying siege to these crumbling walls,
setting hidden traps and snares,
offering enticing lures and baits,
silently probing and testing,
continuously searching for
weakness and flaws;

preparing for the final assault.

Within the darkness
I seek Your face,
through the long lost night
I wait for Your presence.

Rise up O mighty Lord,
defend me from unknown enemies,
free me from unseen prison bars,
fill me with Your holy fire,
bathe me in Your glorious light,
overwhelm me with Your holy spirit.

You are all that I desire,
You are all that I need;
You are the center of my hope,
You are the answer to every question;

You are all there is.

In You shall I find relief,
through You shall I overcome,
in You shall I have victory,
through You shall I be delivered.

Stay with me forever,
strengthen my weakening defenses,
prepare my heart for the coming battle,
let me be triumphant in the face of defeat;

bring me home to You.
.
.

Dark Night No More

Dark night no more,
suffering and pain forever gone,
Your precious light shines upon my face,
the road ahead becomes clear;

a new day begins to dawn.

Hold me in Your arms,
pour out Your mercy and grace,
soothe the raging storms,
silence the savage screams;

save me from the fate I so richly deserve.

There is only truth,
there is only peace,
there is only love,
there is only You;

there is nothing more I need.

You have defeated the darkness,
You have conquered the fear,
You have restored the life,
You have returned the hope;

You have raised me from the deep.

Forgive my foolish ways,
remove my haughty pride,
humble my stubborn heart,
show me how to live,
be real within my heart,
mold my desires around Your will,
teach me as a father teaches a son,
speak inside my soul,
change my evil ways;

make me like You O Lord.

Shield me with Your love,
walk with me through the shadows,
protect me from the night,
be with me wherever I go;

for all my days
I will trust in You.
.
.

sometimes now

“Tell me Gilbarto,”
she whispered in my ear
on a warm sunny morning
as we lay together,
her body resting
softly in my arms,
“What is the price to be paid
for simple existence,
in a world
that demands more?”

“so much more.”

We both knew our time
had almost passed,
as all time passes
in a world ruled by time,
but still we clung to one another,
hoping silently inside
that maybe,
just maybe,
this would be the one
that would not pass,
even though we both knew
it would.

I thought on her question
and decided there was no answer,
that it was as open ended
as the tomorrow
we both would face,
I thought of my life,
where it had been,
where it was going,
what it had learned,
and came to the conclusion
that it too
had no answers,
a mass of swirling contradictions,
neither beginning or ending,
drifting like the current
with no known destination.

I thought of his life,
so pure and perfect,
his words
so simple,
yet so strong,
sharp crystal truth,
far beyond the boundaries
of our limited human comprehension;

He is the king
of us all.

I pulled her closer,
stroked her hair with my hand,
tomorrow she would board a bus
and her and I
would be no more,
but today
we were one,
even if it was just a moment;

sometimes now
has to do,
in a world where tomorrow
never comes.
.
.

Something New

In the morning You are there, like a breath of sweet springtime air, renewing my mind, refreshing my soul, providing comfort and hope; bring me home to You.

Some days the confusion runs so deep,
I no longer know which end is up
or which end is down,
what is true and what is false,
who I am and who I am not,
inside I am like a sad, pathetic,
little child,
wandering lost and alone,
afraid of everyone and
everything,
trying to find my way,
searching for the road home,
I only know
if I can just hold on to You,
everything will be alright.

The day begins anew,
bright and fresh,
the darkness fades,
as the morning light
rises on the horizon,
the hope grows within,
and if I can just hold on to You,
everything will be alright;

today is the beginning
of something new.

This body grows weary,
weak and frail,
failing minute by minute,
but I am not afraid,
as I become less
You become more,
standing by my side,
providing strength,
bringing comfort,
and if I can just hold on to You,
everything will be alright;

today is the beginning
of something new.
.
.

Bad Asses

“I was glad I wasn’t in love, that I wasn’t happy with the world. I like being at odds with everything. People in love often become edgy, dangerous. They lose their sense of perspective. They lose their sense of humor. They become nervous, psychotic bores. They even become killers.” (Henry Chinaski) ‘Women’ –Charles Bukowski

“I’ve reached the point

where I want to throw out

all the shit, all the things

which aren’t important,

I think for the first time

I want to try and

be happy” I told her;

she held my hand,

“It’s much easier

to be miserable in life

than to be happy,

to be happy requires

an effort, it requires

hard work” she said;

“it requires that you

take a risk”;

and I knew she was right,

all the things

she had been through

as a child

had taught her this

better than I,

or any teacher

ever could;

there are enough

bad asses in the world,

enough cruelty and darkness;

I am tired of

trying to be one.

.

.

Keeping An Eye On You

I had my bar dream
the other night,
only this time
it was a little different,
it started out the same,
same old rundown,
dimly lit,
hole-in-the-wall bar,
with the same lowdown,
rundown,
shady characters,
sitting around drinking
god knows what.

I have this dream
quite often,
and it always seems
as if I am finally
at home,
sitting on the barstool
with all the other
losers,
but like I said,
last night
was a little different,
this guy walked by
who seemed familiar;

“Bukowski?”, I asked,
he stopped and nodded,
we started talking,
I told him he was the greatest
which he took in stride,
I’m sure he had heard it
all before.

He wasn’t anything
like I expected him to be,
very polite
and well mannered,
when I commented on it
he just smiled and said;

“Don’t believe everything you read kid,
especially if I wrote it”

then he said;

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Later,
when I had been awake
for several hours,
I thought;

keeping an eye on me?
what the hell did he mean
by that?
.
.

A Good Prison

My life is heading for a Jerry Springer episode,
an over-weight, middle-age, bald guy with cardiovascular disease,
who can’t stop stuffing his face with junk food and sugar,
in spite of a heart attack and diabetes,
in love with a beautiful, sexy, half-mexican, half-scottish woman
from Louisiana who he has never met in real life,
all the while keeping it hid
from the woman who has been at his side for almost 25 years,
who is the mother of his 3 children,
and grandmother to his 3 grandchildren;

yes, this is definitely Jerry Springer material.

Lately I have been thinking I need a time-out,
I was thinking that prison might be the answer,
ten years should just about cover it,
solitary confinement would be even better,
segregated from the rest of the prison population,
just as long as they let me have a word processor,
and a CD player with a good selection of music,
along with a set of headphones;

I think things would go along quite well.

I could get my eating under control,
I wouldn’t have to worry about all the debt I owe;

(what are they gonna do, throw me in prison?)

I could stop trying to keep up with all the madness,
I wouldn’t have to go to a job that I hate,
I wouldn’t have to put up with all the idiots,
sure I might have to put up with a strip search every now and then,
or a lights out at 10 policy every night,
I might even have to work a little every day at some mundane prison job,
but I think the positives far out-weigh the negatives,
and if anything came up that I didn’t want to face or deal with
I’d just hide out in my cell,
protected by the bars and locks all around me;

isn’t that what prison life is all about?

Maybe that is what we all are searching for,
a good prison where we can hide out,
safe from the world around us;

protected from reality by steel bars and walls of concrete
of our own making.
.
.

The truth about truth

     God exists whether we ‘will’ Him to or not, whether we choose to believe or not, just as truth exists whether we want it to or not. It does not change to suit our opinions or beliefs. Jesus did not say He was ‘a’ way or ‘a’ truth or ‘a’ life, He said He was ‘the’ way, ‘the’ truth, ‘the’ life.

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”         John 14:6-7

     So Jesus was either telling the truth or He was a liar. You either choose to accept what He said about Himself or you call Him a liar, there is no in-between, no ‘neutral’ position. It does not depend on us or what we believe or don’t believe. It does not depend on an ‘if’ or ‘then’ statement. If you choose to accept what He said about himself, then you must choose to believe all of it, the prophets, the law, the gospel (good news), you cannot pick and choose when it comes to truth. You can either accept it and conform your perception and way of thinking to what it says (with the help of the Holy Spirit), or you can deny it and accept the consequences if you are wrong, just as we must accept the consequences for any wrong decision in life. If you choose to stick your hand in a fire it will be burned, you will pay the consequences for your decision, it is not a matter of mind over matter. Some of you might start spouting about some meta-physicist or Indian mystic/shaman you read about who can walk over burning coals without physical damage simply by willing it, but I want you to seriously think about what you have read or been told. Some people can train their bodies to be more tolerable than others under certain conditions, and there are dark spiritual forces that can appear as light (I have seen them), but I guarantee you if you hold your hand in the fire long enough it will be burned. Jesus is either the stone upon which you are broken (come to repentance and be healed) or the stone by which you are crushed. The choice is up to you.

The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone; the Lord has done this and it is marvelous in our eyes.      Psalm 118:22-23

Jesus looked directly at them and asked, “Then what is the meaning of that which is written:
‘The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone.’
Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, but he on whom it falls will be crushed.”    Luke 20:17-18
_______________________

Truth

Jesus looked directly at them and asked, “Then what is the meaning of that which is written: ‘The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone’? Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, but he on whom it falls will be crushed”   Luke 20:17-18

Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road

that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.   Matthew 7:13-14

truth;

from where does it come?

to where does it go?

it rattles around inside,

bouncing back and forth,

like some misguided missile,

and just when you think

you have the answer,

you come to the stark,

brutal realization;

you’ve only scratched

the surface;

truth;

so seemingly simple,

yet so profoundly complex,

separating darkness from light,

bringing dawn to the fading night,

cutting hard and deep,

with surgeon-like precision

and skill,

providing comfort and mercy,

while dispensing perfect

judgment and justice;

truth is absolute,

truth is forever,

truth never changes,

truth never compromises,

truth is condemnation,

truth is salvation

all rolled into one;

truth is the stone

upon which everyone who falls

will be broken to pieces,

but he on whom it falls

will be crushed;

truth is Jesus Christ.

_________________

The Way of Truth

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”   John 14:6-7

lost in this sea of darkness,

sentenced to die from the day

we are born,

guilty as charged,

eternally separated,

forever gone;

the dreams of men

are like birds on the wind,

shifting and rearranging,

living and dying,

here today,

gone tomorrow;

there are many roads in life,

leading to far away,

unknown destinations,

creating their own specific

brand of justification,

finding their own particular

version of truth,

but no matter how many

truths we create,

no matter how many different ways

we choose to believe;

there is only one truth,

there is only one way,

there is only one road;

it does not bend

to fit our ideas or desires,

it does not go in the direction

we demand it to go,

it is final,

it is absolute;

that is how truth works.

.

.

Never Was

Out here in this wasted space
of no-man’s land;

no one hears the silence,
no one knows the loss,

alone and holding on,
waiting for imaginary rescues
among lost and broken places,
hiding behind enemy lines,
crawling on hands and knees
in-between burned out bunkers,
full of dry, empty words;

never quite reaching the mark.

Old debts return,
tears rain down like
sweet summer sweat,
holding on until
there is nothing left;

without a hope,
without a chance.

Beautiful dreams like a river,
flow on their way to the sea,
dancing like butterflies
on the morning wind,
echoing sounds of magic
within the caverns of the soul;

sometimes the greatest love
is that which never was.

One more time,
traveling down this
long and lonesome road,
searching for a home
inside lost and empty ruins,
running from fantasies that never were,
living within upside down dreams
which come and go;

over before it began.

My eyes have seen what others
have not,
my heart has known that
which no heart should.
.
.

Teacher

Teacher,
where are you now?

Teacher,
don’t you have
any wise words now?

Are you still enjoying
being an intellectual
SOB
NOW!?

Did you have your
mandatory
mid-life
crisis?

Did you go through
your obligatory
messy
divorce?

Tell me
teacher,
do you still
look down
your pointed little nose
and pass judgment,
deciding
who deserves life
and who doesn’t?

Is everybody
still cast
into the roles
of dumb jocks
and cool non-jocks?

I gave you a glimpse
inside my soul,
you tossed it aside
with nothing more
than a glance,
I gave you all there was
and all you gave me
was a D.
.
.

Egypt the middle east and 9/11

Today Mubarek resigned and Egyptians are celebrating their new found 'freedom and democracy'. In case you haven't figured it out, this is much bigger than Egypt. If you have been paying attention this started in Tunisia and is spreading to most of the Arab countries controlled by governments who are either supported financially by America or at least quietly condoned by America. In return for this support or tolerance these governments have quietly supported America in return. Now the people of Egypt have overthrown a dictator in the name of democracy, a dictator long supported by America, what can America say now? 'We really don't want democracies and self-rule in the middle east? That we only want what will be in the best interest of the American people, which means low gasoline prices?'  Of course we can't say that because then we would appear to be the hypocrites that we really are.

So first the islamic extremists got us to use our military to remove one tyrant (Saddam Hussein) and now they are using the very principles this country was founded on to remove the rest, and there's not a darn thing we can do or say about it. Pretty sweet huh? So what does 'democracy' in the middle east really mean? It means the arab/islamic people will choose who they want to govern them and not necessarily those who will be friendly towards America and the rest of the western world. Who do you think those leaders will be? If you really want an answer you only have to look as far as Iran. Remember them? Remember the Shah? Remember how they were once the 'good guys' (before the people decided that they would rather be ruled by religious ayatollohs instead of a US puppet called the Shah). What do you think the Saudi Arabian royal family is thinking right now? How long do you think it will be before the new found 'democracy' in Egypt turns its attention towards them? And again, without appearing to be complete hypocrites and losing what little credibility we have left in the middle east, there's not a damn thing America can do about it. I repeat, pretty sweet huh?

So where is this all going, besides higher gasoline prices, which we will pay simply because we have no choice as long as we remain slaves to an oil based economy? Well let me tell you what I believe the answer to be, it is the same answer upon which the entire history of human existence has always revolved around: Israel, thats right, Israel. When Saudi Arabia falls where do you think the attention will be directed at? Perhaps the place that most Arab factions have vowed to wipe off the face of the earth? And which most Arab groups refuse to even acknowledge as a sovereign state. I'm not going to debate this with any of you nor go through the hundreds, if not thousands of prophecies and proofs it would take (which those of you who don't understand wouldn't believe anyway). I will just leave it at that. When you see the armies of the world surrounding Jerusalem perhaps you will understand, but I'm afraid it might be too late by then. Those of you who do understand hopefully will know what I am talking about.

I want to close with one thought: How did this all begin, the toppling of Saddam, etc., what was the catalyst that eventually drove us to use our military and resources to remove a dictator and justify it with a bunch of political rhetoric about democracy and freedom (besides our fear of Weapons of Mass Destruction) (remember that)? Remember 9/11? Kind of like poking a tiger or a bear to get them to react the way you want them to react huh? It seems to me we've been played.

This was written shortly after we invaded Iraq and removed Saddam Hussein from power. I'm adding it to show that this is not some band wagon I recently jumped on. I hope I am wrong, I truly do. 


9/11


Ask yourself;

what was that dark, fateful day really about?
what was the real agenda?

Prior to 9/11 who was the biggest obstacle to fundamentalist Muslims
in their goal for world domination?
who prevented them from controlling the second largest oil fields in the world?
who persecuted them within his borders on a daily basis?
who could be made to look guilty the easiest, stirring up passion and hatred
in the son of a world leader that had failed to remove him from power 10 years earlier?
who had the military strength to remove this tyrant almost overnight,
enflaming Muslims in the process and rallying them to solidarity world-wide?
answer these questions then tell me;

what was the real purpose of 9/11?

In a calculated risk those responsible took a gamble
that the most powerful nation in the world
would take the bait and walk into a well-laid trap,
leaping first and asking questions later,
being fooled by carefully planted clues
because of hidden personal agendas
which had nothing to do with terrorism,
blinded from truth by the need to execute revenge,
removing a despised despot in days that would have taken them years,
so tell me;

what was the real purpose?

Now instead of being on their side,
the world stands united in condemning their policies,
now voices within are speaking out and beginning to be heard,
pointing fingers and speaking words of hatred against a president and his administration
who was just as duped as they claim he is duping them,
now instead of wasting thousands of lives in a hopeless war
those responsible can simply wait, obtaining what they want politically over time,
using the invading American infidels as the catalyst;

so what was the real purpose of 9/11?
.
.

.
.

Light of the World/Yeshua

Light of the World


All creation holds its breath
on this silent night of nights,
yearning for deliverance,
groaning like a woman giving birth,
patiently waiting for the moment to begin,
salvation from the cries of an infant;

redemption through the sacrifice of a King.

Hope of hope,
Savior of the lost,
Light of the world,
what gift can be laid at Your feet?
what price can be paid
to satisfy the cost?

The angels do sing Your praise,
all in heaven and on earth
bow before Your glorious throne,
the blessed lamb of God,
the righteous Judge of judges,
the mighty King of kings,
the holy Son of God.

Hope of hope,
Savior of the lost,
Light of the world,
what gift can be laid at Your feet?
what price can be paid
to satisfy the cost?

Look down on us now,
see the ignorance of our ways,
forgive the arrogance of our
hardened hearts,
heal the damage we have done;

make us more than we are.

Hope of hope,
Savior of the lost,
Light of the world,
what gift can be laid at Your feet?
what price can be paid
to satisfy the cost?
_____________________

Yeshua

What words have I,
that pay honor to a King?
What gift can be given,
worthy of His name?

He who overcame,
He who defeated death forever,
He who reigns eternally,
He who is our master.

Mocked and mistreated,
spit upon and reviled,
beaten and scourged,
led like a lamb to the slaughter,
sacrificed upon a tree
for our iniquities and transgressions,
resurrected from the grave
that through faith in Him
none should perish,
but all might have life.

Through Him are all things possible,
through Him are all things made new,
to Him does all praise belong,
to Him is all glory given,
lift up His name
before all others;

Yeshua,
the Holy One of God.
.
.

Etc.

Growing up,
I never wanted the normal things:

money, good job, family, etc.,

my vision was always a stage
playing rock and roll music
in front of huge cheering crowds,
with everyone who never believed (in me),
who never thought I’d be much of anything,
old girl friends, parents, teachers, etc.,
sitting in the front row;

realizing just how wrong they had been.

It was this vision
that made me play so hard in sports,
even though I could have cared less
about winning or losing,
it was the roar of a crowd
during a touchdown run
or game winning hit
that I lived for,
and even though I talked about all the other things:

teamwork, hustle, hard work, etc.,

it was all bullshit,
it was never about anything but adulation;

and payback.

My life was a lie then
just as it is today,
as I go to my dead end job,
pretending to be a good husband, father, co-worker, etc.,
talking about right and wrong, morality, beliefs, etc.,
telling my daughter
about teamwork, hustle, hard work, etc.,
when inside I’m still standing on that stage,
before thousands of screaming, adoring fans,
looking down at old girlfriends, parents, teachers, etc,
screaming into the microphone;

“See!
you were wrong all the time!”
.
.

6 for Home

Home (forever)


Today was Petey,
my Jack Russell terrier’s third birthday,
we took him to Pet Smart,
got him a full grooming,
bought him 2 squeaky toys
and some pet treats,
when we left he pissed
on my shoe and pant leg
in the parking lot;

my wife thought
it was very funny.

I am ready to go home,
everyday I become more and
more aware as the desire
grows stronger and stronger,
tired and sick of the daily struggle,
disgusted at the lust and greed,
worn and wearied by the inequity
and unfairness of it all,
appalled by my own inability
to overcome this fleshly prison
surrounding my every side,
slowly killing me with its constant
cravings and depravity,
ready to put my soul in the hands
of the only One who
can save me from this
life that is no life,
in this place that is no home;

I am ready.

But it’s not my decision to make,
just as this life is not my life to live,
I have been bought and paid for at a price,
a price I could never afford,
with a love I cannot even fathom,
by a Master who laid His life down
that I might find the way back to my true home,
the one He has created for all who love Him;

everything I am is because of Him
everything I have belongs to Him.
_________________________


My Home

We hide inside our houses,
dreaming;

dreaming of the tomorrows,
imagining the possibilities,
running from the darkness,
mystified by the mystery,
trapped within the illusion,
waiting for the destination;

forever seeing,
but never knowing;
forever hearing,
but never understanding.

If it were up to me
I would stay in this place,
seeking shelter from the storm,
being swallowed up by the myth,
drowning in the depths,
growing cold from the emptiness,
guarding Your truth
like a rare and precious jewel,
but Your grace knows better;

Your will demands more.

I am searching for my home
but I don’t know how to get there,
so I quietly wait here in the wilderness,
running from the ghosts,
hiding from the demons,
praying for a tomorrow.

My home is neither here nor there,
not ahead or behind,
not without or within,
my home is in a land far away,
close your eyes and it is forever gone,
a whisper on the howling wind,
a flicker in the candlelight glow,
my home is nothing,
my home is everything;

my home is all there is.
_________________________

Cold

Dark, gray, rainy morning,
the cold burning pain
runs down my tired, trembling leg,
old memories slither forth,
lost and forgotten thoughts
ooze from hidden cracks and holes,
silent friends whisper sweet hellos
into well tuned ears;

fight or flight?

Outside the winter wind blows,
the running feelings return,
the get in the car and start driving
while never looking back voices
start talking;

so many years,
so many battles,
does it never end?
does it never give up?

Stay with me Father,
hold my head above the fray,
protect me from unseen enemies,
let my eyes see the light
of one more precious day,
make the cold winter wind
on dark, gray, rainy mornings
fade away.

Lead me through this darkness,
help me to make a stand,
protect me once again
with Your mighty protective hand,
for I have forsaken Your
wisdom and righteousness,
silence the mocking voices
whispering inside,
bring me home to You Lord;

never let me go,
never let me forget,
that for You
all things are possible.
___________________________

Creature

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.

2 Corinthians 5:17

No longer the same,
no longer a slave
of this flesh driven body,
no longer a victim,
no longer trapped
by fear and death,
something different;

a new creation.

Born of the spirit,
a foreigner
walking in a foreign land,
a child of light
called out from the darkness,
a chosen vessel;

a son of God.

Let me walk
in Your holy righteousness,
teach me how to grow,
fill me with Your endless love,
guide my steps
down paths which lead home
to You.
_________________________

My Cup Runneth Over

In the quiet
of the slowly setting sun
lie answers hidden so deep,
far from knowing eyes
or understanding minds;

there are stories
no man can tell,
there are places
no man can go.

You looked for the light
but it was only darkness
which you found,
you searched for redemption
yet it was only condemnation
that you deserved.

And yes there are stories
that no man can tell,
and there are places
where no man can go,
but still you held on,
waiting for an uncertain future,
following unsettled clues,
living without validity,
settling for pennies on the dollar,
surrendering to an enemy
already defeated,
making a home in the middle
of celestial wastelands.

I dreamed dreams,
wrestled with demons,
witnessed angels,
ran from the blackness
of the approaching night,
faced the wrath of an undeniable truth,
now I finally belong to You;

what more could I ask for?
what more could I ever need?

My cup runneth over,
surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
for all my days,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
_______________________________

You’ll Never Know

You touch me like a candle,
burning with sweet, tender, mercy,
as unseen worlds and non-existent walls
rise up only to crumble back
into the dark, angry ground;

but you’ll never know,
you’ll never know,

like an unobtainable dream
you flutter into the room,
unapproachable,
unrehearsed,
fresh from the kill,
hot on the trail,
one more from the road,
your face the face of humanity,
your expression all that there is;

I feel your fingertips,
breathe your aroma,
taste your skin,
imagine the unimaginable;

you’ll never know,
never know.

You ride upon a high horse,
in distant places with no name,
frustrated fires burning within,
innocent guilt replaces
moments of madness,
lost inside the maelstrom
with no way home,
rest easy my darling,
soon it will be done,
soon enough it will be finished;

you’ll never know,
never know.

We scream into the wind,
searching for worlds
that do not exist,
running from the impending darkness,
unable to change,
unable to exist,
unable to love,
frustrated little gophers
scrambling from one hole
to another,
waiting for evening meals
complete with nighttime
fuck dreams,
tucked safely in lairs of
complacent apathy,
we are nothing
but dissolving shit,
bubbling and fizzing
our way into nooks and crannies
of indelible majesty,
where only echoes may be heard,
complete with one-way dreams
of suburbia bliss,
surrounded by walls of
utopian opulence.

Innocent pawn,
rest your beautiful head
here in grieving arms,
sweet daughter of the night,
sister of the moon,
the morning sun does approach,
bringing forth its saving light,
and it is here that you belong,
where you shall shine
like the jewel you truly are;

you will know my love,
you will know.
.
.