BEEN AROUND.

I am nothing more than a collection

Of what I have been given, stolen and found;

By what I am every day of my life

Singularly spun around;

And wound,

Without the grounding that I need.

Not humble, meek and repentant;

Prayerful to a gracious Lord;

Rather missing the rhyme and the rhythm

Of living; One note short of a chord;

Battered by the world outside me

And the folly I find within; I cling

To the false gods

Of yesterday and tomorrow

While I confuse the present with sin

And become less who I am,

Forever a soul;

And more what a poorer man has been.

2014.04.03.0100 ©

*******************

PLEASURE AND PAIN

Not impressed, huh, by the construct

Of this poor pilgrim’s life?

That is okay,

It is a mission of need;

I tear down the man

That I would build up by sin

Then I search

For the beggar within him

To feed.

I bleed regularly

From the nails and the piercings

To which I willingly open

My arms and my heart;

The pleasure comes

From learning the words

For the actions and in playing

The complementing parts;

Losing myself to the winner, the day,

Searching for a life giving spark;

Leaving the drama

With the scars of it all,

A mere memory,

Small solace,

For the marks.

2014.04.03.0200 ©

********************

BEING HUMAN

I am a better human being

When I am fasting and silent and still;

Not trying some personal need or desire to fill;

Rather, thinking more of the Father’s will.

So everyone is free of the desire

Or the necessity to kill me and

I am not trying to thrill anyone;

Everyone and everything is free

From me and with me;

I am part of eternity and

I pray you too that way to be.

2014.04.03.0700 ©

********************

HUMBLE VISION

Your order and your control and

Your ability to judge amazes;

Yet, perhaps you say

The same thing about me;

Oh, but I think that I am working

On being nobody

In the eyes of everyone

Who think they see;

Well, maybe I am not yet successful

So please understand my humanity

And I will keep giving you the upper hand

And trying more humble to be.

2014.04.03.0900 ©

*******************

DEAD HEAD

Every word I say to you

Echoes in my head;

But it is the ones I write on paper

By which my soul is led;

Because knowing that you see my idea

Means our minds and hearts are wed;

Unless you think a different viewpoint,

Then I am probably to you, dead.

2014.04.03.1100 ©

**********************

SIMPLE SPARK

There are times when

Solitude,

Alone,

Can touch my soul;

Still others that require the addition of

The dark;

But the depths need sometimes

Be embraced by true

Silence;

If I am ever the Spirit to hark;

To turn from what I have and

What I know about life

To an eternal kingdom within

Which He can spark;

One marked by the enchantment

Of simple being

Where I can always

On my soul’s journey embark.

2014.04.03.2100 ©

*********************

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>