His Glory

My life, my light, the only way
How is it I was without
My spirit does behold thee
Your lavish love, devout

I remain in captivity
To your tenderness yet, dread
Illumination of my being
My flaws, my thoughts, regrets.

So deeply you have moved me
So ingrained you have become
Entwined within my inner self
My heart strings, you do strum

Oh just a whisper of your voice
Completed me yet, still
I crave you more than ever, now
I pine for you to fill

My body 'til I'm overflowed
Brimming, overwhelmed
With joy, and gladness, peace and love
Such Mercy, you've bestowed

You can Have it

Is this what it has come to?

                                                 We have drawn the line between the blind and the even more blind?

See, you settle for the half truth and condemn the things I know; 

You think God is pleased with globalization 

and the prostitution of our lands for exploitation-

Pollution and degradation of  our land

that God created to sustain us?

It only amounts to the rich becoming richer and the poor

becoming more destitute. 

You say, blame the poor man, and 

his inability to 'make it in this world' 

however that's just what the wealthy desire you to think. 

We vilify the hungry children and glorify the white collar criminals; 

Martha Stewart, Maddoff, I bet most of you have

 no idea of what the other side has been doing by: 

waving one hand to distract the masses 

and stealing your money right from under your... Nose. 

You don't see the externalities 

of the costs of the goods of mass production

 Try: slavery, dishonest business deals, and the horrendous rape and violating 

of the human rights of human beings- 

people like you and me.

You think its cool to destroy resources of a nation,

 yet you demand to know why there is a

 rapid depletion of this nation. 

Have you noticed that you and I are 

becoming less like the wealthy and more

 like those you despise? 

How about you peel the wool from up over your eyes

 and, see who truly benefits from this. 

The rich keep getting richer, 

the economy is rocked, 

yet you only concern yourself with your

 contrived poor man's plot. 

Please. Do not close your mind 

to things you do not understand. 

There is more to this picture than the tiny portion

 you choose to fixate upon.

 Like, don't get me wrong 

we each can have our own opinion, 

but do not spite me for seeking something deeper,

 I just want this world to be a better place 

but I see the light becoming weaker and weaker- 

And all because we want the American dream.

 The rich man has us fooled into thinking

 its all the poor mans fault.

 Is it not painfully obvious that we should be trying to lift them up 

to our level with the Lord as opposed to trying to obtain what the rich mans got?

 Don't be fooled by their deceit and trickery 

all you got to do is open up your eyes 

and see the truth for what it really is. 

The spirit of entitlement applies to 

more than just the poor,

 it applies to a society that is never satisfied 

it always wants more and so- 

we the automatons

 are mass produced according to 

the media and the government 

no matter what we say we feed the establishment,

 the monster we created is now recreating us, 

our mindsets. 

Well, you can have it. I see a world crying out for help, God use me. 

My Dreams

This is not a poem, just a blog... I have had dreams about water every night, for the past year. In some dreams its a lake, in others the ocean... Sometimes the water is rough and there are waves that tower over me and crash on the rocks. Sometimes, it is calm but still very powerful and scary to me. I know that people say that dreams mean nothing, but I know that the water aspect of my dream meant something. So I prayed, and today a year after these dreams started, I received an answer from God about a part of the meaning of the water.

The Water, represents the Word of God. In my dreams, the Water always felt the same, no matter what form it took. The Bible uses water in many forms, springing life, troubled fountain, a cleansing agent... But the Water represented the Word itself in my dream. Like, in some dreams, I would just shy away from the water, or watch in awe as it slammed against these rocks jutting out of the sea. Sometimes I would fall in, and swim like crazy to get out. It struck me when God said to me what the Water represented in my dream. He said that even though someone falls into the water, it does not mean that they are cleansed by the washing of the Water. The Word has to be in me, not the other way around. 

God will do a perfect work in my life, no amount of me diving in head first will quicken it or make it more perfect. In the NT, perfect meant to be complete or to fulfill a purpose; not just like perfect the way that we understand it today. I think that when I try to force things, everything gets messed up and I sink and I have come close to drowning. But, by allowing Him to wash over and through me, things will happen, and when they do, it will be genuine- tried and true. 

Rage

My fists are clenched and I see nothing but red;
Rage against the dying of the light;
The tears flow freely there's a pounding in my head;
Rage, unbridled rage!
My spirit groans with words too deep to utter;
Rage such blinding rage;
My screams of agony end in a sputter;
I fall to my knees as weakness suddenly hits;
When oh God will you put an end to the wicked?
I have faith in your word but the majority is lacking
And their knowledge of you a facade with no backing
I'm angry at the injustice that our own laws create
Rather than unify they divide and separate;
No longer are morals a basis for society;
Rather relativists believe no good can come from exercising piety;
I am mad, I am furious, livid at the darkness that is creeping in. 
The dying of the light, the fire, borne by the masses willing confusion.
And the light of truth and enlightenment is 
dipping below the distant horizon;
"Wait!" I call out 
but its too late and its dark now;
And they cry and teeth gnash and they wail to be saved 
by a Savior that came and said repent before its too late!
But still we go blind at war flesh and spirit; 
In enmity with one another sometimes even 
contradictions are the answer to our questions 
like 'it is but it isn't?'
We have trampled on what we once beheld as sacred
Nothing is off limits as long as its in moderation, 
like, who are we kidding?
I am offended at the devils very audacity; 
so subtle yet bold he stay setting traps for me; 
and sometimes I trip and sometimes I fall, 
but the miraculous wonders of Grace intersperses through it all, 
and I'm suddenly aware that I am NO good but He is only good
 and for some reason He has Mercy on me? 
So why don't I act like I need it sometimes? 
And why do they act like they don't even realize what it is?
 I'm tripping, man, don't tell me to relax! 
Don't you feel the urgency of our current state, 
my very heart aches when I see children's lives go to waste! 
Dealing dope like its cool, and the pain that can be avoided,
 is instead embraced as if their destiny pointed 
them in that direction! What a compass, 
their lives encompass the darkness 
that the media spoon feeds to the masses 
and I am so filled with Rage! 
Rage because the light is not dying we are dying to the light! 
Blissfully ignorant 
our minds lay dormant to the callings on our lives. 
The sandman's glued our eyes, our lack of faith is our demise; 
and I cry. 

irrelevant

My words unspoken in my head 

are just as true 

as they're irrelevant

 like my love for you 

remains unrequited- they 

remain unchanged unvoiced and powerless. 

Should I choose to divulge these letters 

and-

 speak out loud is that better than 

remaining silent-

keep the upper hand 

and not reveal what's in my imagination? 

Or take the low road spew out hateful epithets 

to make you falter,

 twisted on this guilt trip 

play the role 

like I'm so 

damn innocent 

tears and sobs my best weapons 

broken hearted manipulation 

strangle your esophagus 

with arguments 

of pettiness and-

 relative emotions 

drowning out all voice of reason. 

When will we realize that both 

curses and blessings come 

just as easy and quick

 as the next second

 its all just a heartbeat reaction

 but they leave lasting impressions 

and scars beneath the surface

 judgment of the surface 

will affect the subcutaneous

 and cut marks and incisions

 to the organs cause 

scars and hardness

 so 

let's agree to judge each other 

with mercy rather than condemnation

Accessory

So what if I wear my heart on my sleeve?
Like a glass house I emulate transparency.
See the color of my sadness the hue of my joy;
 and I say to myself it's okay, let them see, let them judge,
it is okay.
See, what is it to me if they take it or leave it?
The only thing that makes any bit of difference is:
will they hate me for who I am or love me for pretending?
So, here I am in my natural light.

Unwavering, unfaltering, I will preservere in my might.
 My weaknesses so obvious to anyone with eyes
and depth perception that goes slightly deeper than the surface.
Don't be alarmed at my audacity,
when I choose to grit my teeth and bare some things,
 or, crumble and fall at the slightest touch or misspoken word.
I am but a garment, my mind far surpasses
what my abilities encompass
and my spirit will not die or give up
 no matter how hard I sometimes try.
 So, I wear my heart on my sleeve.
How you choose to react to this accessory is your business,
you adorn your life however you choose.
My clothing will remain blood red and alive
and will continue to change and be stained as long as I remain,
in this life, in this body,
me.

Realize It

In my dreams I see the asphalt in the front of my future house.
It is smooth not marred
by years of being driven over by mack trucks and cars
and I see leaves drift by slowly caught up in
an up draft that carries them by with no definite direction
and every now and again the leaves will drop right in front of my driveway.
I stare out my window and I sip my coffee and
I watch the nuance of life and light play with the shadows and
I inhale and exhale I remember back to the days of the asphalt
 my feet used to pound
as I meandered from one experience to the next
wondering if I would ever find rest
and contentment and
what would I do with it once I found it
my heart beat quickened
as I dwelt on a single memory like a vision
of lying in an ice cold bath tub not really understanding
how I got to be there until I hear a voice clarify the situation
'she's dead' he whispered into the phone
so anxiously but not out of worry or love.
More like my dying was an inconvenience for him,
 but in my mind I thought 'how do you think I feel?'
The dawn of realization came upon me
as I slowly gained back feeling
 in my fingertips and toes and then
 I took a deep breath that almost hurt
 and I moved a little at a time til the zombie came back alive
and the first words that I spoke
was not to glorify the one who brought me back to life.
I said 'I want to smoke' smoke
as in dope as in ice as in crytal meth.
And as I think on this thought I grow disgusted
at my former arrogance but I force myself to reflect
 on what that moment truly meant.
See, yes I should have died that day,
 but in reality I was dead anyway.
Slowly life was gently and kindly given to me in increments
 as though He knew the light itself was too much for me to handle all at once.
And as I come back to reality
 I see the significance of the things around me,
how I am intertwined with this world but even more so with the spirituality
 of this life of this universe.
 My death could have been a curse,
 to die not knowing Him so much worse;
 but I was saved, Saved, for a reason.

Full Circle

I am imperfect, unfinished

come full circle and I wonder

whose tail am I chasing

and what tale am I trapped in this time?

Forced to hear yet another rendition

of the same story and this

one sounds better than the last

and I put everything

I've got into

understanding it this way

only to find my hands are able

to poke holes in the lining

and watch the water drip

out creating

a false

rainstorm on the top of my head

and my parade is suddenly ended

So onto the next

come full circle once again

to start from the beginning

which is the unfortunate ending of

something I had so much

faith in and the

realization

is nearly too much for me to bare

my thoughts are common

not rare

I am Savage

I’m faded, so dazed, my head is so twisted

What am I feeling, conviction? Confusion?

I often wonder how some came to their conclusions

But fear asking questions for the price is retribution

Become a castoff from the island that is barely

Even inhabited

Those that keep tight reigns of they mouth from the savages

Savages being those like you and me

My outside may look alright

But inwardly, I am a hot mess

I am full of words in my head

Feel my mouth bout ready to rip

Release my mind that is pregnant with

A possible can of worms 

if I so choose 

to let them loose

Word is born

I know the course that will ensue…

Nobody is perect it is all about varying degrees

Of what is okay to you vs me

But it seems to be just an illusion at times

Because vanity and pride is just a face value lie

But the attitude behind it all reflects to the outside what is inside

Or so one would think…

But once again its just a matter of faith and not allowing

The various facets of myself interfere

With who I am desperately trying to become.

I am some, but He is one, and it may be hard but the future comes

And presents itself in a heartbeat then its gone

And I glance with remorse at the past and feel overwhelmed

With joy, succumb to the relief that the battle may still be won

A Pound of Flesh

The other stuff was easy in comparison 
 things just got a little harder;
 another week of sacrificing my repentance 
at an Altar and 
I guess I'm somewhat jarred, my vision 
 somewhat marred 
but I love Him 
I'm persistent 
I'm barreling and jumping
over these impediments
 because they try to keep us separated; 
The physical material I handed off to burn
Thinking I could hold this down no problem unconcerned; 
but now it comes down to the nitty 
saying things so gritty 
really feeling inconsistent 
when reality sets in
and now my flesh decides to rear its head 
its not like I can stuff it in a coffin 
or prevent it 
from appearing 
in my mind because it is a part of me and I a part of it. 
We know He is the Doctor but this incision being made 
 is not done with great precision 
its like skin is being ripped 
out with the flesh that lays beneath it 
and instead of healing properly it gets somewhat infected 
and I'm clenching up my fingertips and screaming 
'go ahead God, take it!' 
But its bittersweet goodbye 
as I part with yet another piece of I 
And I know I'm that much better off without it in my life