New Orleans

Down sultry, winding streets

we wander,

two becoming one,

wrapped safely

within one another,

exploring new beginnings,

only to find final

and satisfying ends.

In my arms she lies,

naked and alone,

cool fan breeze blowing

across smooth exposed skin,

her love a shelter

where I can safely hide,

a calm and peaceful harbor

where all is forgiven,

she fills me with her love,

and I have no need

for any other;

she overwhelms me.

This then shall be the place

where forever begins,

saying goodbye

to yesterdays and tomorrows

that never really were,

now is the time

for which it has all

been played out.

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Literary Genius

When he wrote,

his stuff

wasn’t half bad,

the problem was

he was more in love

with the idea of writing

than he was with

the actual writing itself,

so he hardly

ever wrote,

it tired him out,

it bored the hell out of him;

it was too much

like work.

Besides,

his mind was like a squirrel

on steroids,

he could barely

hold a thought

for more than 10 seconds,

so when he did write

he had to type fast

before the moment

was gone,

and he couldn’t type

worth a shit,

so he almost

never captured

the idea floating

in his head,

somehow

the translation

was lost

between his brain

and his fingertips.

So he mostly

sat and fantasized

about writing,

with rock n roll music

blaring on the headphones,

but every now and then,

if he was ready,

and the moon

and sun were aligned,

and he hadn’t stuffed

his face with junk food,

and the music was loud

enough,

and the energy level

was high enough,

and his wife didn’t

have her period,

and the house was clean,

and his dog didn’t

need a bath,

and there were no

aches or pains

in his body,

and there wasn’t

anything on tv worth

watching,

he’d catch the wave,

and the words

would spill out

like some

giant puke machine,

flowing from his

fingertips,

plopping and fizzing,

sizzling hot,

and for a few brief

seconds;

wow!

he was amazing!

but then

as quick as

it began,

it was all over,

he’d usually fall asleep then;

it’s not easy

being a literary

genius.

.

.

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.

.

.

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

in the face of Your

wonderful presence;

let every breath

be breathed for You,

let every lip

praise Your holy name;

let me worship You

forever.

.

.

Romans 12:21

Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.                                        Ephesians 5:11-12

In the depths of my carnal mind

the master of darkness and lies

quietly searches for weakness and flaws,

silently planting his evil seeds;

seeds of lust and temptation,

seeds of doubt and fear,

seeds of hatred and anger,

seeds of revenge and retribution.

They corrupt and twist the truth,

clouding all that is real,

tearing down and destroying

until there is nothing left within,

building walls and divisions

between my brother and I,

putting words of venomous hate

on the tip of my imperfect tongue,

attempting to devastate and waste

all that is good,

all that is pure,

all that is holy and righteous;

all that is from God.

You patiently discipline and rebuke,

until at last I am able to understand,

providing the light for my blinded eyes

while gently holding my trembling hand,

guiding my feeble and wavering steps

as I slowly learn to stand.

Raise me up above the filth and mire,

hold me in Your mighty arms,

remove the darkness surrounding my soul;

teach me to not be overcome by evil

but to overcome evil with good.

Praise Your Holy name forever.

Where is Thy Sting?

I declare to you brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I tell you a mystery; We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed – in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

                                    “Where, O death, is your victory?

                                    Where, O death, is your sting?”

                                                                                                I Corinthians 15:50-55

We live in a world ruled by fear,

it dominates our thoughts,

it determines our decisions,

it decides how we live our lives;

fear of illness and disease,

fear of starvation and death,

fear of destruction and chaos,

fear of losing loved ones,

fear of losing money or possessions,

fear of being different,

fear of growing old,

fear of not being attractive,

fear of being sad and alone,

fear of not being loved,

fear of rejection,

fear of suffering and pain,

fear of the unknown,

fear of living life,

spiritual fears so dark and deep

we don’t even like to admit they exist;

fear of the truth.

We live in a world

which thrives on fear,

where many prey

on the fears of others,

commercializing their existence,

capitalizing on their opportunities,

exploiting their weakness,

surviving on their reactions.

There is One who has

conquered death,

there is One who has

overcome fear,

through Him we are free

to live again,

through Him we are free

to ask:

O death, where is thy sting?

O grave where is thy victory?

.

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Just On The Edge

Breathe deep,

the cool ocean air,

dance with the moment

for as long as you can,

feast with your eyes

until they see no more;

make it last forever.

Don’t let me lie down quietly,

let me go quickly and smoothly,

like a bird gliding through the air,

don’t let them know,

don’t let them see,

that this is all there is;

I never quite belong,

I never fit in,

I’m always somewhere

just on the edge.

See me Oh LORD

here among the lost,

rescue me from this darkness,

hear my cry in the wilderness,

restore the light of day.

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