Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

I don’t know what to tell you
I don’t know what to say
All I can do
Is try to portray

Got my bags packed
Know where I’m Going
I planned it all night
So I’m gunna be flowing

I know who I am
I know what I’ve got,
Gunna walk to the top
Cause I’ve got a shot

I’m Going to the top
Cause I’ve got a shot

Not lookin’ back
Going all the way
Going to the place
Where its gunna pay

I’ve got it planned out
I’ve booked it on line
I’ve planned on the map
Its gunna be fine.

First I’ll go here
Then I’ll go there
I’ll jump in a plane
And pay my fare

All across the world
Gunna trade and Gunna borrow
I’ll make a bunch of cash
And then there’s tomorrow!

I’m the King of fortune
Gunna lay it all out
Nothin’ gunna stop me
Come on gimme a shout!

I know who I am
I know what I’ve got,
Gunna walk to the top
Cause I’ve got a shot

I’m going to the top
Cause I’ve got a shot

My plans are secure
I know what I need
Don’t need no intervention
Don’t need to take heed

I know what’s best
For my life down the road
I’ll do all this stuff
And then I’ll reload

I’m gunna fill my cup
With all that good life
If my girl doesn’t like me
I’ll get a new wife!

I’ll buy a big house
You know I deserve it
With no money down
The bank will preserve it.

Buy a bunch of new stuff
To fill up the space
Put it on the card
And run the credit race

Oh the smell of a new car
I can make payments
Gap and Abercrombie
Gots my new rayments

Poppin with my new ring
Hippin with my jacket
Bright shiny shoes
Oh I’m gunna crack it

My phone with a tone
My screen with a sheen
My car with a star
Cause it is up to par!
A bag with a swag
Wheels with appeal
A girl with swirl
Yeah I’ve got a game with fame
On my X-box 720
You know it’ll come
And I’ll be there with my money.

I’ve got bling I my swing,
Well not me personally,
But you know what I mean.

Yeah I’m bankin on tomorrow
But so… are we all
Later tonight
The Prez will make the call.

Gotta have it now
Tomorrow I’ll pay
Or maybe the next
That’s what I’ll say

What…I’ve got 50 yrs
To get my desires
Before I’m pushin daisies
And singing in the choirs

I’ll wait till the end
Then make my amends
This time until then
I’m gunna hang ten

Gunna do some bungie jumping
And a roller coaster ride
Gunna hit up the surf
And play in that tide

Gunna drive real fast
Down the open road
And find some chemicals
So my brain will overload

I’m gunna jump from a plane
And reach for the rip cord
But no shoot opens…
Oh… My… Lord!

I had 50 yrs
But my time is up
I traveled so far
Tryin to fill my cup

I thought I’d be successful
With my big big plan
I didn’t even realize
I’m only just a man.

I spent all this time
Planning my days
And didn’t even see
He was shinin through the haze.

What if I changed my life
And did a hard thing?
What if I turned my heart
And let the Master sing?

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The Eventual Day

Posted: November 18, 2010 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , ,

So many important things,

Lose their significance.

When a life is broken.

We travel at light speed,

but forced to stop.

When tragedy is spoken.

We are strong

we are tough

we are indestructible,

except when we’re not.

 

We are taught that we must

succeed and be on top.

We cry, “I have arrived!”

Men pursuing the next

level of recognition.

In that, our worth derived.

We are tenacious

we are rugged

we are unbreakable,

except when we’re shot.

 

Buy the house of prestige,

get the car of distinction.

Producing the right perception.

Extremely clean on the outside

but dieing on the inside.

Because of the deception.

We are solid

we are stable

we are impenetrible,

except when we’re caught.

Some tell us to ignore

our hidden eternal soul.

You’re too young to die just yet.

Pamper your precious body,

make your days full of bliss.

Thinking about the end causes fret.

We’re trying to be strong

we’re trying to be tough

we’re trying to be eternal.

Stumbling at Night we will grope.

Come to find out

our lives are fragile.

In just an instance life disappears.

One inescapable moment

brings life to a hault.

Cutting off the expected years.

We think we’re strong

we think we’re tough

we think we’re immortal,

But we will come to the end of our Rope.

 

There will be a day

when you’re driving along.

Thinking of the days to come.

You will crest the hill

one eventual day.

And you’ll hear the final drum.

Are you strong?

Are you tough?

Are you immortal?

Do you have eternal Hope?

The Real Thing

Posted: July 18, 2010 in poetry
Tags: , , , ,

1 Corinthians 13 is not talking about a facade of love, a fake love, an inconsistent love that we put on and take off when it is convenient for us. This passage is talking about the Real Thing…

The thing that lasts and never comes off.

The thing that doesn’t smile and then scoff.

The thing you can count on.

That you can rely on.

The thing that doesn’t go away when times get tough.

The thing that doesn’t shut down when you call it’s bluff.

The thing that lasts longer than a kiss or caress.

That doesn’t just desire to get under that dress.

The thing that doesn’t allow life to become a mess.

And doesn’t lie and cause all that damn distress.

The thing that is patient and kind,

And doesn’t mess with your mind.

The thing that doesn’t envy or boast,

Or burn your heart like whole wheat toast.

It’s not arrogant or rude,

Or insists in its own attitude.

The thing that is not irritable or resentful,

Or rejoices in all things that are evil.

But rejoices in the Truth,

The honest, the naked, the unvarnished Truth.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends,

but that all depends.

If the love your talking about is Him!

That thing is Love with a capital L,

for Love and for Lord yeah you can tell!

It’s him!

Church, wake up!

Grab your second cup.

Can you hear what I’m displaying?

Get on your knees and start praying.

Ask Him to teach you the way.

To show you how to speak, what to say.

I’m talking about you,

and me,

and we.

Look in the Mirror.

And be the Hearer.

Love is first of all an action, an unconditional commitment, a promise that is never broken.

Pen Down

Posted: March 10, 2009 in poetry
Tags: , ,

My pen is down on paper white,

to write

a story of pure delight.

I see visions of love and joy,

like a kid with a brand new toy.

Transformation that’s our cry,

singing out our tongues so high.

It seems so easy to say

to pay

to relay

and to sway

but Aurora is tough, rough stuff,

easily missed, like a kiss,

blown in the wind.

Do I understand what’s rotten,

here in Denmark?

or under the bench forgotten

in the city park?

The story is about redemption

bringing back a relation- – – ship.

But there’s so much corruption

Like a spiritual erruption- – -flip.

A changed life

once full of strife,

Wrists under the knife,

to stop life.

But now there’s reason to live

and reasons that will give

something new,

It’s a re-creation

A new vocation

full of satisfaction

like a sweet attraction

He reaches out to the those who are weeping

sitting on the edge of the world looking for a way to get off.

He extends his hand to those who are leeping

standing on the edge of the bridge ready to step off.

He thinks he has to change

to try and rearrange

before coming to the Man.

The followers of The Way

say you have to pay

before coming to the Man.

But you don’t.

The fact is we can’t do enough

fixin’ ourselves is so tough

there’s nothin’ we can do to be good enough.

That’s where Grace

enters the race

to embrace

the corrosion

the erosion

the explosion

of self.

Grace gives life

when we deserve death

Grace gives joy

when we deserve sadness

Grace gives victory

when we deserve defeat

Grace gives love

when we deserve hate.

And he takes us by the hand

so that we can stand

next to the King

and be free.

Can you see?

You can be free.

And when your pen goes down

to write words of the heart,

may love and joy spill over

as through you God creates art.

The cry of affection

the need of love,

can only be filled,

by the One above.

Desire and temptation

on confusion corner,

a hottie mired in trash

with cash as a mourner.

Eyes that see love

that’s twisted and marred.

Hands out to be helped

running into the barred.

Cute is a curse word

Mute is the Christ Herd.

Sex is a rusted tool

There is a man, the fool.

Standing on curb to get

the care of a stranger,

Climbing in a red sedan

with a typical stranger.

A hotel room

A cigar flume.

A defiled bed

a curse word said.

Out in five,

like a bee from a hive,

the dive,

she will strive,

to revive

her heart.

Done in five,

like a bee from a hive

the dive

he will strive

to revive

his heart.

Hurts go deep,

like the sting of a wasp.

Both caught

in a death grasp.

both seeking affection

both getting rejection.

no protection

no direction

no reflection

in need of protection

in need of direction

in need of reflection

the love

the hate

For self has no soul

like a cereal bowl.

Is the Hope available

to a girl in tights?

Is the Hope achievable

to a boy without fights?

transformation?

reprobation?

salutation?

Hope out numbers

the enemies plunder’s.

God’s hand can touch

Gives life to lifeless.

Heals broken hearts

makes hands strifeless.

Transformation?

Yes!

Re-creation?

The Best!

He captures the tear

trades faith for fear

when you run he’s near.

He takes the pain

turns it into joy.

Like a baby child

with a new found toy.

Sister you don’t have

to wait for the money,

to get your love

from one who calls you honey.

There is One greater

who loves you more.

Reach your hand out

and open the door.

to Freedom.

Mister you don’t have

to give out the money,

to get your love

from one who calls you honey.

There is One greater

who loves you more.

Reach your hand out

and open the door.

to Freedom.

To the dance of Forgiveness.

To the glorious Whiteness.

All sin is taken away,

and you become whole.

You never pay for

the redemption of your soul.

You see before you the power

The Man died at just the right hour.

He demonstrated

Proclamated,

Manifestated,

His own love

for you.

While your were

still a sinner.

Buried in self,

and pride

and anger

and hatred

and lust

and the list goes on,

He died for you.

Cause he loves you.

Experience Grace,

Like sunshine on your face.

Just one taste

Gives transformational haste.