Right and Wrong

Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves.   Romans 13:1-2

In America being poor is a death sentence,

in America your pocket book determines

the level of respect you receive;

in America you either love it

or leave it.

Sometimes it is forgotten

that this nation was founded by people

who didn’t ‘love’ it;

fighting a violent and bloody war

for their independence,

or that less than a hundred years later

the nation was torn in two

as brother fought brother,

it makes me wonder just who

the real patriots are,

those blindly accepting

whatever is thrown at them by a government

growing increasingly powerful and intrusive,

or those who question every policy and decision,

but to be perfectly honest;

I don’t care one way or the other.

This nation and this government are only

a result of what they are allowed to be,

by a God who created all things,

it does not have any more power, wealth or wisdom

than Rome or Greece or any of the other

great civilizations before it;

this nation exists only because

God wills it to exist.

In colonial days there were preachers

who stood up in their pulpits and declared

that those who didn’t ‘love’ being a British colony

should just leave,

many religious leaders of the day

branded Washington and others

as criminals and traitors,

but Washington and the revolutionaries won,

and winners, not losers, write history,

they won because it was God’s will,

plain and simple,

so be careful who you call a criminal,

or who you tell to love it or leave it,

because you just might find yourself

on the wrong side of God’s will,

unless you presume to know more

than God himself,

don’t get caught up in who is right

and who is wrong,

try not to take sides

in the affairs of men at all,

seek the will of the Lord first

and trust in Him without leaning

to your own understanding,

and remember His command for us all:

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead I have called you friends, for everything I have learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other.                                    John 15: 9-17

.

.

Sexual Shape Shifting

With a touch it begins,

like some magical

mysterious illusion,

becoming that

which could never be,

lying on soft fresh forest floors.

inside cool green universes,

where all that is real fades away,

shifting, shaping, changing into

perfect lovers in a perfect world;

gods among the majestic.

It is here I give you

the most precious gift

I have to give,

fulfilling your deepest secret desires,

that which no one has seen

but me.

.

.

something else

for you I become

something else,

something more,

something new,

fresh and alive,

creatures without a past,

stories with no tomorrow.

you take me into worlds

never before touched,

places unknown,

beyond flesh and thought,

past barriers and genders,

it is here we hide,

seeking sanctuary from

a world of violent fools,

waiting for the storm to pass,

listening for the sound

of dreams played out;

for you alone

I become something else.

outside they wait,

desperately trying to penetrate

the darkness within,

but they never will,

they never can,

it is far beyond all they

will ever know,

more than they will

ever comprehend.

.

.

Small Minds

Small minds look for weakness

wherever they can find it,

it makes them bigger

than they really are,

more than they will ever be,

searching for a home

that never was,

wandering like roaming gypsies

across desert plains;

mindless,

aimless,

doomed.

Time is not a friend,

it takes until there is nothing left,

leaving no trace,

destroying everything

in its path,

without witness,

without hope.

The enemy waits within,

silently ready,

alarmingly knowing,

gnawing away,

a growing whisper,

an unknown touch,

a dark, mindless shadow,

“just a little farther” it hisses,

just one more

momentary lapse longer,

just one small break in protocol,

better safe than sorry,

sooner or later

it comes to us all;

time is not a friend.

Small minds never journey

past the mistakes,

trapped by the insecurity,

lost within the fear;

forever stuck in the glue.

.

.

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?

.

.

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 hope,

without chance;

beautiful dreams flow like a river,

on their way to imaginary seas,

dancing like butterflies

on the morning wind,

echoing sounds of magic

within the caverns of mindless souls;

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;

sometimes the greatest love

is that which never was.

.

.

For The First Time

I read their poems,

I feel their rage,

I see their sadness,

I understand their frustration,

I know their darkness,

I have been on that side

of the fence;

I have been where they are.

Like a giant vacuum,

it sucks you into

the deep murky mire,

echoes from below

cry out within,

as visions of madmen

standing on the platform,

waiting for a train

that never comes,

flash before your burned out

cynical eyes;

I have been to their edge.

This body fades,

for the first time

words come to life,

for the first time

the possibilities

far outweigh the

realities;

for the first time

I am clean.

The pain grows,

as 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.

.

.

Suburbia

Out in the fields

the slaughterhouse seems

so far away,

dreams still live,

the future open and free,

tomorrow certain and secure;

little do they know;

the cattle truck is on its way.

The circle is closing,

and you wonder

if this is the best there is,

or more importantly,

if this is all there is,

as if it ever mattered

one way or the other,

yet still you wonder,

and you forget,

and you remember,

over and over again;

everything changes,

everything remains the same.

The days become harder,

movement nonexistent,

just a little farther,

only a little longer,

holding on with what

little there is,

living for letting go,

waiting for the last breath,

pretending it matters,

wishing it didn't;

knowing it never will.

In central suburbia

the waves wash quietly

upon forgotten shores,

nothing is ever what it seems,

no one is ever who they say,

looking down from sacred ground,

privileged and blessed,

safe and secure,

flags flying high,

apple pies cooling

on kitchen counters;

‘those’ people are ruining the country,

‘those’ people don’t belong here;

and all I ever wanted was you.

.

.