More Poems

Note to any of my family who might read these poems: I want (need) you to understand that poetry for me is like a snapshot. It is not the whole picture. The poems I am posting here are snapshots and nothing more. They do not necessarily reflect the reality of everything that makes up my life. They are the quiet, private moments that we all think or feel at one time or another. They are nothiing but snapshots and not the whole picture. Please do not be overly concerned about me. I have recorded thousands of 'moments' over the past 40 years. Most of them are kept quietly hidden away for the very reason that I do not want you to worry or feel like you need to help me in some way. Lately I have begun to share these 'moments' in the hope that people might appreciate them from a literary aspect and in a small way might derive some benefit or pleasure from them. The reading I did in Grand Rapids was part of that sharing. The one aspect of all these writings that is reality is the love, mercy and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is in that aspect that I hold the sincere hope that if one line of one poem can somehow stir something inside just one person and turn them in the direction of the Lord and His Holy Spirit where they can be saved then it will all have been worth it.

For The First Time

I read their poems,

I feel their rage,

I see their sadness,

I understand the frustration,

I know the darkness,

I have been where they are,

I have been on that side

of the fence;

like a giant vacuum,

it sucks you into

the deep murky mire,

while echoes below

cry out from within;

visions of madmen

standing on the platform,

waiting for a train

that never comes;

I have been to their edge.

This body fades,

for the first time

words come to life,

for the first time

possibilities

far outweigh the

realities;

for the first time

I am clean;

the pain grows,

you hold it inside

like a deformed child;

locked away,

out of sight,

out of mind;

no one listens,

no one sees,

no one understands;

but You.

______________

An Uneasy Interruption

In the end

I will fade away

like the early morning dawn,

quietly changing from darkness

into light;

without a sound,

without a fight;

a quiet whisper

in the middle of the

dark, crisp night;

we all do,

we all will,

we simply have

little choice.

The worries of this world

will mean nothing

or very little,

possessions even less,

memories but a brief moment,

an uneasy interruption,

a passing vapor

in a world of swirling mist;

I have been to the mountaintop,

I have peered into eternal oblivion,

I have heard the still small voice,

I have known the touch

of His cool, calm hand;

words will never be enough.

__________________

Damaged

To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

II Corinthians 12:7-10

It’s not easy

accepting that you are

permanently damaged,

a cripple,

handicapped,

less than normal;

less than a man;

that you’ll never run again,

never move freely again,

never be fast and agile again,

never be without pain,

never be without suffering,

never be without hardship.

Yes, it’s not easy,

but you adjust,

you get by,

you take more pills

for the pain,

you learn to move slower,

you accept the inevitable,

you patiently wait for the

collapse,

all the time knowing,

it’s only flesh and blood,

only bone and nerve endings,

only a temporary illusion;

here today,

one tomorrow.

You think about old girlfriends,

you think about memories

from the past,

you remember 55 yard touchdown runs

and inside the park homeruns,

you remember doing things

others can only dream about,

and you come to the realization

that all-in-all, it’s been a pretty

fair deal,

nothing to cry over,

nothing to be bitter about,

just another speed bump

along the way,

one more trial,

one more test;

one more obstacle

to overcome.

You remember the words

of the apostle Paul,

you remember that he too

toiled and suffered,

you remember that there are things

much bigger in this life,

much more important

than the bodies in which

we are housed;

that power is made perfect

in weakness.

Thank you Jesus,

for Your magnificent

mercy and grace,

thank You for my life,

thank You for making me

a son of the living God,

thank You for the peace and joy

You have placed within my heart,

thank You for the suffering and sacrifice

endured for me,

thank You for being my Lord,

thank You for being my King;

thank You for being my Everything.

__________________________

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 it’s physical, mental

or spiritual;

or maybe a combination

of all three.

I know it’s the diabetes,

it’s getting 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 pain pills

with some Billy Gibbons guitar

playing 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,

He gives me strength

when there is none,

He picks 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.

________________

Just One More Breath

I am tired of living a life

whose only function is self-satisfaction,

in a world where nothing really matters,

where goodness is measured

in terms of self-indulgence and self-glorification,

and success by total net worth;

I am tired of a life

without You.

I think about

how wonderful it will be

when I am where You are at,

no more worry,

no more fear,

no more disappointment,

no more turmoil,

no more struggle;

no more doubt.

I think about

how I long to leave this life behind,

step out of this fleshly prison

and walk into Your waiting arms,

but then I remember

how You lived Your life for me

without ever once thinking of Yourself,

struggling and sacrificing

through the agony and pain,

bearing the isolation and shame,

giving up Your life that I might live,

and I realize that You deserve

every minute of my life,

every thought, every action, every breath,

that You and You alone are my Lord and King,

that You have so much more for me to do,

so many things left unfinished,

so much wasted time to make up for,

so I ask for just one more breath

that I might serve You,

just one more breath

that Your name might be glorified;

just one more breath

that I might breathe it

for You.

________________________________________

The Night

cold and barren,

the windswept fields,

dark and gray

in the moonlight walking,

through wooded meadows

she calls;

and I must go;

her voice

beckoning my soul

to come lie at her feet,

she washes my face

with raven hair,

wet with teardrops

from things

unseen,

unknown;

in her arms

I know no fear;

she is the night,

when she calls

no man resists her voice;

she is the darkness

living in us all.

even Einstein knew that

Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only changed or altered in form – a condensation of the first law of thermodynamics, and one of the principles for Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity.

I’ve learned a few things

in this life of mine,

things that no one else knows

or takes the time to see;

for example:

I know that rock n roll

began in 1948,

in the form of a simple

country blues song

called boogie chillun,

by a man

who would influence

a whole generation,

but never get the credit

that was his due;

and I know,

that I have seen a true prophet of God

walk this earth

in the shape of a man

during my lifetime,

and that I have heard his voice

just as so many others did,

but that very few recognized him

for who he truly was,

but that someday they will;

just like all the other prophets

who came before him.

I know that this life

is not what it seems,

that it is an illusion

created to deceive and fool,

a very elaborate illusion,

but an illusion

just the same.

I know that Jesus Christ

was exactly who he said he was,

just as the words of the bible

say precisely what they mean,

and are not hiding

ancient secrets

or theological mysteries,

despite how many scholars

say they are,

that the truth is so simple

only the simple

can see it;

whether the rest of the world

wants to believe it

or not.

I know that nothing

is an accident

in this life,

that it was all planned out

from the beginning,

every detail,

every chance encounter,

that the energy

we carry inside

can never be destroyed,

only changed

or altered in form;

hell;

even Einstein knew that.

.

.

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.

.

.

Life

In the morning,

before the doubt,

before the poison,

anything is possible,

the world is bright and new,

fresh and alive,

but then like the morning

it is gone,

as reality sets in;

I wait outside her domain

like a dog in heat,

I listen to her voice

pounding within,

like ocean waves

on a dark angry night,

she holds me in arms

of shifting winds,

without shape or form.

Life is full of so much wasted time,

wide open spaces and moments

in-between the only ones that count,

long drawn out hours of insufferable

boredom,

highlighted by seconds of indescribable

pleasure;

life is a never ending orgasm,

working and struggling,

building and rising,

working for just one

short burst,

one quick release;

I want a place to hide,

a shelter from the storm,

safety in the wilderness,

a home within the night;

what words can be said for this?

what salvation, what mercy,

what redemption?

There are places

where hope does not walk,

places where love has no home,

where light does not shine,

truth does not speak,

down here words fail,

seasons become blurred.

Is it wrong to give up?

Is it wrong to let go?

We come so close,

reaching and touching,

knowing and seeing,

hearing and feeling,

so close,

yet so impossibly far,

flowing like underground rivers,

hidden,

alone;

silent;

fires burn bright,

stars blaze through the night,

yet we see only the shadows,

moving through rising tides,

surviving extravagant excess,

hiding among the corners,

day after day we wait,

as miles become like dead stones

wrapped around the necks

of fools and lovers,

hour by hour we survive,

selling flesh inch by inch,

smiling at reflections in the dust,

crumbling before the edges

with nothing in return.

.

.

An Uneasy Interruption

In the end

I will fade away

like the early morning dawn,

quietly changing from darkness

into light,

without a sound,

without a fight,

a passing whisper

in the middle of the

dark, crisp night;

we all do,

we all will,

we simply have

little choice;

words will mean very little,

relationships even less,

memories but a brief moment,

an uneasy interruption,

a passing vapor

in a world of swirling mist;

I have been to the mountaintop,

I have peered into the oblivion below,

I have heard the small still voice,

I have known the touch

of His calm, cool hand;

words will never be enough.

.

.

Shape Shifter

I feel your presence

in the nighttime wind,

I hear your power

calling out,

wild and free,

I feel the excitement,

the pure exhilaration,

knowing no fear,

no inhibition,

only raw animal instinct

tearing inside,

screaming to be free,

craving to be fulfilled,

proud and untamed,

no right,

no wrong;

oh brother,

join my spirit,

fill me with your mystery,

make us one

running through the night,

let our voice cry out,

searching for the scent of fresh victims,

tasting the succulent kill,

knowing the triumph

of surviving another day;

this body fades away,

as do all things

of flesh and bone,

and there is only you,

only me,

one creature;

one spirit.

.

.

Warrior

The thundering hooves

sound like mighty cannons,

as ponies of war

shriek out their cries of rage,

closer they come,

louder they scream,

as even the mightiest creature

runs in fear

from their great

and terrible power,

like lightning

they strike down the enemy,

laying waste

to whatever moves’

destroying

all that lives.

With cold sullen eyes

the warrior stares down

at the broken bodies

that once were men,

he takes no pleasure

in death,

only in the sweetness

of survival,

in the warmth

of another breath;

rising with the early morning mist,

his eyes have seen the coming

of a new day,

his heart has known the joy

of another battle,

proudly he stretches forth

his scarred and bloody hands,

giving thanks

to the creator

for all things;

good and bad.

.

.

Wasichus

Wasichus,

you have come without asking,

you have taken without giving,

plundering our land,

stealing our food,

go back from where you came;

until you have learned

some manners.

.

.

living

You said you’d never forget,

but even now the faces fade,

the memories die,

slipping away like daylight

into the approaching night,

and you know it will be

the same for you;

life is for the living

not the dead;

there is a hope,

there is a life,

there is a way;

don’t be afraid

just believe.

.

.

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.

.

.