Saturday, July 23, 2016

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;
is this the best there is?
or more importantly;
is this 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.
.

.

Infection























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
From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life. Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!” Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.” Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?”  Matthew 16:21-26
“To face what we are in the end, we stand before the light and our true nature is revealed. Self-revelation is annihilation of self.”   Kathleen Conklin – ‘The Addiction’
we all stand afflicted,
hopelessly addicted,
ravaged and abused,
scourged and inflicted;
infected by the disease;
we choose this road,
because that is who we are,
what we have become,
there simply is no other choice,
no other path;
a leopard cannot change
its spots,
nor can a flea become
a dog;
hopelessly addicted,
infected by the disease;
self-induced delusions,
self-abused illusions,
self-taught dreams,
self-righteous justification;
hopelessly addicted,
infected by the disease.
.

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Discernment


























“If you want to be happy, do not pray for discernment.” – A. W. Tozer
“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.  If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.”   John 15:5-7
it’s not easy seeing things
others do not,
seeing past the surface,
past the smoke screens,
past the phoniness,
past the lies;
seeing the hypocrisy,
the hidden agendas,
the self-seeking motives,
the falseness,
you begin to see people
in a different light,
you begin to see them for
what they really are;
you see it in others,
you see it in yourself;
it is like talking
to dead bones,
surrounded by
living corpses,
remaining silent,
even though you want
to scream,
knowing it wouldn’t
change anything,
even if you did;
it is not judgment,
it is not condemnation,
it is a deep, quiet
sadness,
an unspeakable burden,
because you know that
you are just as guilty,
just as undeserving,
just as despicable,
just as failed;
you realize just
how opaque
and pervasive evil
really is,
appearing as an angel
of light,
infiltrating into cracks
and shadows,
you understand just how
manipulative and devious
the enemy truly is;
You are the Vine,
we are the branches,
without You we can do nothing,
through You we can do all things.
.

.

Time For A Change


















I have traveled down this path
too long,
I have played this game
for pennies,
lived within these ancient
walls forever;
time for a change;
nothing will ever be the same,
no matter what the cure,
no matter what the cause,
no matter what the cost;
time for a change;
time moves on,
the hardest part has never
been living,
the hardest part has never
been dying,
the hardest part has been
doing neither;
words say this,
words mean that,
words will come,
words will go;
time for a change;
this world was never yours,
no matter how hard you tried,
the future will never be the same,
no matter how well you hide;
there is a foreign refuge here,
false and unobtainable,
it lies just beyond reach,
it travels without destination;
it is the only home
you have ever known;
time for a change.
.

.

Nothing Can Ever Be The Same
















the rain comes at last,
the storm has been brewing;
for days,
for weeks,
for months,
for years;
for a lifetime;
changes come like lightning,
new creatures, emerging
from under the spotlight of
iniquity and anonymity,
the metamorphosis complete,
the way back,
closed forever,
the way ahead;
lost in the melodrama;
down in these sewer pits,
drunken monkeys rant and rave,
rampaging through the
dark, eternal night,
precious time lost,
valuable energy spent;
gone forever;
words?
Rimbaud had words,
Morrison had words,
Bukowski had words,
I have words;
I have no need for theirs;
I observe them like a disease,
just a glance here,
a taste there,
carefully preventing infection,
swallowing the antidote,
puking up the symptoms;
now,
nothing can ever be the same.
.

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Stolen Ground
























I have tasted heights so high,
I have swam depths so deep,
touching things along the way
which were never mine to keep,
traveling beyond all there
was to know,
yet still there is more,
so much more to go;
confusion and sorrow color
these early morning skies,
answers lie hidden
among alternatives and
cascading lies,
places once called home
crumble into the far-off fading light,
faces once called friends,
disappear into the approaching black
of this forever growing night;
take my hand,
lead me from this land,
hear my voice,
help me make a stand;
darkness grows above,
storms rise from below,
over-fed pretenders
prepare for the final show,
in this never ending battle
which can never be won,
raging just beyond
all that can be overcome;
into the nighttime void a
whisper does sound,
shadows of tomorrow looming large
across this stolen ground,
mistakes of yesterday forever lost,
innocent blood shed,
freedom at such a staggering cost;
take my hand,
lead me from this land,
hear my voice,
help me make a stand.
.

.

Past Due







Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come you who are blessed by my father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you? The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine you did for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’ They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you? He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’   Matthew 25:34-46
now it begins;
the time arrives at last,
no more excuses,
no more pretending,
no more room for denial;
you watched as my children
lay dying,
broken and bleeding,
naked and alone,
crying out for justice and mercy,
you smiled as I suffered,
you laughed while I was beaten,
you turned your backs
as I slowly starved,
your pursuit of pleasure and
perpetual comfort, made
you soft and weak,
your greed has crushed you,
your delusions of grandeur
and self-importance have
blinded you,
your lack of understanding
and compassion has sealed
your fate,
your denial of truth has
damned you,
your destruction is assured,
your chosen leaders
have abandoned you to the
grave;
now it begins;
your time has come O Babylon;
payment is past due.
.

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