Friday, January 27, 2012

Numb

The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the LORD. And everyone who calls on the name of the LORD will be saved. Joel 2:31-32

For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile – the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” Romans 10:12-13

The numbness grows,
I fight,
I flex,
I stretch,
I rub,
but still it grows;

it’s like sinking
in quicksand.

I should not complain,
yet still I complain,
I should not criticize,
yet still I criticize,
I should not judge,
yet still I judge,
I should not hate,
yet still I hate,
I should not speak,
yet still I do;

what hope is there
for one such as I?

Your law is light,
Your yoke is truth,
Your garments are righteousness,
Your path is faith,
Your garden is love,
You have taken away
the darkness and despair,
I have called upon Your name
and You have heard;

I was dead
but now I am alive.
.
.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Delusion

For the secret power of lawlessness is already at work; but the one who now holds it back will continue to do so till he is taken out of the way. And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus will overthrow with the breath of his mouth and destroy by the splendor of his coming. The coming of the lawless one will be in accordance with the work of Satan displayed in all kinds of counterfeit miracles, signs and wonders, and in every sort of evil that deceives those who are perishing. They perish because they refused to love the truth and be saved. For this reason God sends them a powerful delusion so that they will believe the lie and so that all will be condemned who have not believed the truth but have delighted in wickedness. II Thessalonians 2:7-12


Therefore in one day her plagues will overtake her; death, mourning and famine. She will be consumed by fire, for mighty is the Lord God who judges her.    Revelation 18:8

The joy does end,
here in this land
of limited sun,
cold hearted and alone,
forsaken and forgotten,
the gate is closing,
the gap is narrowing,
the light is starting to
disappear,
there are things bigger
than life,
bigger than death;

bigger than dreams.

Even now they mock,
twisting the truth,
creating monuments of self-glory,
worshiping idols of their own doing,
maligning anyone and everything,
laughing at the misery and suffering,
exploiting the helpless and weak,
drowning in self-proclaimed wisdom,
unable to understand truth,
incapable of anything more
than what they are,
refusing to see past themselves,
seeking life, liberty and the pursuit
of perpetual pleasure,
blinded by their superiority,
wallowing in the fantasy,
delighting in the delusion;

finding comfort in the lie.
.
.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Martin Luther King Day?

Martin Luther King day?

He brought sanity
to an insane world,
created calmness
out of chaos,
peace
to a battlefield,
forgiveness
where none was deserved,
light
to a land grown black
by internal darkness;

so;

Martin Luther King day?

I would certainly think so,
or at least a floater
for the first 50 years,
(prophets are never recognized
in their own time);

oh;

make sure it’s on a Monday,
might as well get a long weekend
out of it.
.
.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Tolstoy

I knew a girl once,
her name was Holly,
we were lovers,
I met her in Florida,
she lived in Pennsylvania,
she used to come to New York
and Connecticut to visit me
when I was in the navy,
she was insatiable,
we once made love six
times in a row,
it was a personal best,
she married a trucker
she met on the road
while driving from Connecticut
back to Pennsylvania
after a visit,
I don’t know what became
of her after that;

she made me happy.

Tolstoy was human too,
despite great efforts to
prove otherwise,
he lived,
he loved,
he laughed,
he disappointed,
he failed,
he tried to grasp concepts
and ideas,
beyond human reason
and understanding,
but he was human
after all,
we all are,
on our own;

we can be nothing more.

There are things greater
than ourselves,
but only a few
ever find them,
things greater than living
or dying,
eating and drinking,
war or peace,
making love to
beautiful young girls.

The Tolstoyans had it
all wrong,
just as the Bolsheviks,
the Luddites,
the Communists,
the Catholics,
the Republicans,
the Democrats,
and a thousand other
man-made institutions,
organizations and religions,
it is much deeper,
far more profound,
than anything our simple
human minds
can comprehend,
Tolstoy understood this
better than anyone;

Holly,
if you're listening,
thanks for the memories.
.
.

Take My Hand

Take my hand,
lead me as one blinded
by their own ignorance,
rebuke my evil ways,
teach me Your discipline,
show me Your truth,
place Your laws within my heart,
let me follow Your example,
help me to survive the suffering;

make me understand
what love really is.

“Greater love has no one than this,
that he lay his life down
for his friends.” John 15:13

I am so lost,
in a world
blinded by
its own darkness,
surrounded by the need
for retaliation and revenge,
judging by man-made rules
and traditions,
where might makes right
and only the strong survive,
killing in the name
of righteousness,
leveling the playing field,
settling the score;

lead me from this place,
forgive the weakness
and corruption,
restore the innocence
forever gone,
shine Your light upon me,
fill me with Your Spirit,
make me holy and clean;

make me a son
of the living God.
.
.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Give and Take

I look out over the grey,
snow covered fields,
I know there are words unspoken,
ideas unknown,
unfulfilled dreams and untold stories
slipping away like ships
passing in the night;

while the world goes on
just the same.

I know that time passes by,
with or without our permission,
I know that there is nothing
new under the sun,
I know that we live in a world
of give and take,
designed to be in perfect balance
between the two,
where what you take
should equal that which you give,
where the sum total
of all your losses and gains
should equal exactly zero.

But this is not a perfect world,
not a world where things
go as designed,
this is a world where those
who can.……..do,
and those who can’t………don’t,
while those who take
take more,
and those who give
give more,
until there is nothing
to be taken,
nothing left to be given,
as those who take
look around for fresh victims
upon which to feed,
and those who have given it all
simply fade away,
never to be seen
or heard from again.

This is a world
where children starve to death,
while great banquets and feasts
are held just around the corner,
a society where elderly people
freeze to death in cold, dark houses,
while fortunes are spent on electricity
for Christmas decorations and lights,
a land where money makes you right
and lack of it makes you wrong;

despite being denied
from church pulpits everywhere.

Yes it is a give and take world,
but the day is almost here
when the scales will be balanced,
it’s just a matter of energy dynamics,
a fact of simple physics,
what goes in,
must equal what comes out;

what is given,
must equal what is taken.
.
.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

From the Heights to the Depths

I die a thousand deaths with you,
falling 2000 ft past
roles and rules of
dubious impropriety,
beyond decency
and molds of
sacred sobriety,
into far-off rolling hills,
gently beckoning,
softly cajoling,
whispering for more,
as reflected changes fade,
and tomorrow blends into today;

together we have faced
the best,
escaped the worst,
survived with all
the rest,
becoming something new,
something else;

something unknown.

Distant guns blaze away,
smoking and smoldering,
pounding and hammering,
swirling inside forgotten
and forlorn tempests,
drifting without a home,
floating on the breeze;

out here there are no
agendas,
no pre-determined
destinations,
out here there is only
this and that,
here and now,
closely followed by
felonious miscreants,
sacred imposters,
intent upon perpetrations
of questionable valor,
plundering and pillaging,
falling down before
the dawn,
replacing methods of madness,
silently drowning out
the moment;

this love is like layers,
peeling back one
only reveals another,
quietly hidden
within the depths
of this empty fortress.
.
.

Product

Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:6-8

This life is not about you,
not about me,
not about;

self-fulfillment,
self-satisfaction,
self-righteousness,
self-improvement,
self-achievement,
self-promotion;

not about self of any kind;

not about money
or possessions,
not about fortune or fame;

no matter what you might think,
no matter what you might feel,
no matter what you might believe;

truth remains truth
whether you discover it or not,
irregardless whether you
agree with it or not,
it does not change by
popular demand,
it does not bend to fit
your personal thoughts or
pre-conceived ideas,
it is not dependent upon
your approval;

this life is about
bringing glory and honor
to the One who created it;

He is the potter,
we are just the clay,
He is the vine,
we are just the branches;

He is the author,
we are simply the product.
.
.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Double-Edged Curse

I feel it rise,
I watch it build,
like some ancient storm
waiting to lash out,
screaming to destroy
everything within
its murderous path;

oh vision,
double-edged curse,
take away this bitter cup;

let me drink
no more.

It is then that the pain
becomes worst,
realizations of what
has been missing,
miscalculated truth
forever lost among
the irreconcilable baggage,
and just how truly
helpless you are,
unable to provide a difference,
incapable of making a change.

So, yet another
poet warrior falls,
inside this corrupt and
deviated system,
designed to kill,
trapping everything
within deadly coils,
imprisoned forever;

surely
the cut is deep.

The interlude between
silence and sanctuary
is but a pin drop in the
evolution of destiny,
there are many different
levels in between,
simplicity is not the same
as duplicity,
nor are shadows
hidden within the
darkness,
there is no tomorrow,
it is always;

today,
today,
today;

running from yesterday
on its way
to the bright red
forest.
.
.

Champions

How can there be;

right or wrong,
good or bad,
yes and no;

every breath is unique,
every voice a beacon
by which the truth
might call;

judgment a foreign
army,
occupying a land
not of its own.

The morning begins
just as it left,
the breaking day looms ahead,
the trail bending and
unclear,
moving forward
with unsettled uncertainty;

there is very little choice.

Illusion remains,
weaving its way into
the fabric of the myth,
mystery hovers like
a descending bird,
with death lying in wait;

mourning the only light
ever known.

I watch these children,
they have more than what
could be considered
humanly possible,
giants in a forest
of dwarfs,
victors in a
world of defeat;

champions amidst
the obscurity.
.
.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Writer's Block

They rise up,
like diamonds in a
dream,
begging to be taken,
waiting to be used,
screaming for recognition,
then poof,
they are gone;

never to return.

It’s always something,
time to eat,
music’s too loud,
football on television,
stomach hurts,
leg hurts,
too tired,
the dog needs to go
outside,
the groceries need to
be shopped for,
it’s always something,
but;

they’re really not interested
in your excuses.

Cold little monsters,
killers on steroids,
no compassion,
no mercy,
ice water running
through their veins,
scumbags,
rapists,
torturers of animals,
mass murderers,
calculated doses of
instant poison;

they deserve
everything they get.

It’s easier this way,
nobody to blame,
nobody to pin
the rap on,
nobody to take the fall,
no one pointing fingers;

no one getting any
credit.

One of these days
I’m gonna set up an ambush,
lie in wait
as they pop out
from their greasy little
hiding places,
then, BAM!
got ya,
you little assholes,
you greedy, stinking whores,
no more havoc for you,
no more of your
pathetic shenanigans,
no more sticking it
in my face,
no more carrots
on a stick;

yeah that’s what I’m
gonna do;

just as soon as this movie
is over.
.
.

ancient songs

the drums
they are a sounding,
calling the clan
to war,
many will die
before this day
is through,
but die they shall,
for eventually
death takes
us all,
and tis better
to die on the fields
with a blade of steel,
than in a bed
from time and age.

all things
have a season,
all things
have a place,
and if this be
your time,
if this be
your place,
then so be it,
do not fear it,
embrace it,
be not sad,
be of great cheer,
for the true battle
is almost done,
and soon
ye shall be standing
in the palace
of the king;

where all things
lie down
in peace.
.
.

All There Is

Standing beneath this night time sky,
gazing up at the glory of Your
wondrous mystery,
I will not fear,
facing the uncertainty,
fighting the doubt,
Your Spirit
renews my strength
once again,
raising me up
from the depths
of this darkness,
restoring all that
has been lost;

You are my shield,
You are my sanctuary,
my Great Protector,
You are truth,
You are light;

You are all there is.
.
.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

It Is Not Mine

I look at my foot;

it is not my foot;

cold and distant,
white and bloated,
protruding purplish veins,
numb and dead,
it belongs to someone else;

it is not mine.

Once more,
standing at the edge,
once more,
looking into the void,
good intentions travel well,
as twisted truth eludes
even the purist of minds,
words whispered in the night,
shout from the lips of the
unborn dying;

there is no beginning,
there is no end.

These prison walls crumble,
barriers become no more,
tomorrow floats away
like beams of incandescent light,
fresh and alive,
drifting with the current,
shadows of distant hills
silently await,
slowly receding into a haze
of empty nothingness,
in the middle of Your depths,
lie wonders of which no
man can speak,
within the quiet of Your perfection,
begins a peace that has
no understanding;

thank you for the revelation,
thank you for the mystery.
.
.

Perfect Lives

Wouldn’t it be great,
if all the people with the answers
simply gave them away,
then everybody would know,
everybody could be
successful and wealthy,
satisfied and happy,
living perfect lives,
with perfect children,
perfect spouses,
perfect pets,
perfect relationships,
perfect physical condition,
perfect hair and teeth;

yeah, wouldn’t that be great?

It makes me wonder;

would Jesus have charged
$19.95 for the truth?

writing books about His
latest revelation,
producing a cd series
on the newest prophecy,
getting rich off
knowledge and wisdom,
living in a mansion,
driving a Benz,
selling tickets to sold out performances
of ‘Secret Church’,
hiding His personal wealth behind
tax shelters and non-profit
organization status,
after all;

“ Do not muzzle an ox
while it is treading out the grain.”
.
.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

None But You

A new day dawns,
another year begins,
there are things in this life
which no man knows,
things dark and far away
that even the night
does not reveal;

everywhere is mediocrity,
everywhere is madness.

All my life
have I sought the answers,
enduring the anonymity,
facing the darkness,
witnessing the lies,
searching for the truth;

sometimes it is a fine line,

through it all
has one light shone,
through it all
has one hope remained;

all my life
have I found but One.

Lord,
You are all I have,
You are all I need,
who else has the truth?
who else has the words?

none but You my Lord,
none but You.

Where would I go
even if I would,
where would I turn
even if I could;

none but You my Lord,
none but You.
.
.

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