well, I am not really a poet, but what I do write, I'll post here. As soon as ever I get on to writing again, I may add some more. And yeah, some of it isn't poetry so much as it is prose, but... like whatever, man
Silence
Here I am. With no sound but that of silence, and the beating of my heart, which makes no cosmic noise. Yet, in the distance, inside me, I hear a resounding echo. A sound from the past and future combined as one. The sound permeates my soul. It is the reassuring sound of my Father's voice. From both ends of time His voice comes and converges on my waiting ears. I hear His voice from the past and future as one voice, for He is one God; yet they speak differently. From one direction, He speaks, "I knew you when you were not, and all your deeds were known to me." From the other direction, He speaks, "I know the number of your days, and I know the plans I have for you." Though the words are different, they unite in perfect harmony. They envelope me, overwhelm me, frighten me with their fierceness. Yet, I am comforted. For as ferocious as these voices are, they are not to be compared to the One who speaks them. This fierceness comforts me because it is not driven by anger, but love. For He longs to show compassion and He bids me to wait for Him. For then, I will be blessed.
Infatuation
Infatuation,
a wild elation
seems little cause for celebration.
A simple crush,
a ling'ring blush
caused only by an eyes' soft touch.
I long to retain,
Though, with much distain
this feeling inside that drives me insane.
It does sound weird
that my eyes would be tear'd
with the thought of one touch in my mem'ry seared.
Oh, how could I
Could I want to fly
and at the same time, want to curl up and die?
'Tis all but confusion
'tis all an illusion
caused by a state of euphoric delusion
so then, I must stay
on the course all the way
and not be swayed by that which may
be not what I need,
but instead be a seed
to remind me to love in word and in deed.
Not for my own wants,
but e'er my heart taunts
confusing me with my impractical thoughts.
Father, remind me
To leave flesh behind me
And follow e'er to be closer to THEE.
For You are the giver of life and of love,
And You give peace, indeed peace like a dove.
Lord give me strength
So that I may at length
accept what I have and live only by faith
Imperfectus
I am far from perfect, Only God can be
For He alone is perfect, and so perfecting me.
Forever may he work, and though he labors long,
my old self it does shirk, for my dark will is strong.
But one day soon, I'll be with Him
and death will loosen it's noose.
But until then, His I'll remain;
Imperfectus
The Race
When was the last time I stopped to think how.
How a man like me could help you out now.
Life is full of wanderers, of which I am one.
There are those that settle down and those that always run
Run from what? She asked innocently.
Run from everything, I said with conviction.
I stop now, to realize that all of us are running
Those that settle are running from racing
Those that run are running from settling
When was the last time I stopped to think how.
How a man like me could help you out now.
Because I am running
and you are running still
We try to satisfy ourselves,
We try to eat our fill.
Are we running from, or are we running to?
I run to reach God, is that why you run too?
When we run together, it's hard to lose the way.
And now I finally realize, yes, this very day.
That to help you keep running, that is how.
How a man like me could help you out now.
The War
My mind is at war with the forces within,
My spirit is at war with my flesh again.
When I try to serve the one, the other screams,
and no peace from the other; only in my dreams.
What is it we call this tortured state?
Is there a term that we can equate?
Battle, dissention, dissonance, war;
All are descriptions, but every one poor.
If it weren't enough questions, still I must ask,
How am I ever to stick to my task,
While fighting a battle that I'll never win,
Combating a foe that's as cunning as sin.
But just as Joshua said from the start,
"The battle is God's" and this war is His art.
For God fought this battle long, long ago
With my sin He fought; He went toe to toe.
But the fight was over before it began
With the words, "It is finished." My sin up and ran.
So why when I sit here do I think of my past,
When all of this time all I need is to ask
The very same one who fought for my soul
to take me over, and again take control.
My mind is at peace, my spirit, consoled.
Now I approach, though I know it is bold
I thank the Lord for the life that He gave,
And ask from Him the new life that I crave.
The transformed image of who I will be,
I ask You dear Lord, could You make it soon please?
All I Can Say Is Ugh.
I'm sure you wonder what I mean,
But dive into the things unseen.
Where that which seems to be a dream,
Is realized to be true.
Worry not; I am not blue.
I wish not any fact to skew.
But something hits me like the flu,
And I am cast down low.
I know that all the seeds I sew
Can only really, truly grow
When nourished by the gentle flow,
Of Gods great saving grace.
This love, it hits me in the face
It always brings me to the place
Where all I see in all of space
Is only my own shame.
If I could find someone to blame
This sin would be no more a flame
That burns in me, my soul to maim
And cease to torment me.
Then it becomes clear to see
I found One to take blame for me
How before could I not see,
The blame was on The Lamb.
Of The Life on Earth
So, I am all poured out, empty,
So, I am impassioned, greatly.
My life is not my own, not slave.
A servant to The King, I crave
to stay here at His gate, so safe;
Not to be dead on earth; a wraith.
The tents of the wicked my home,
so for a little while, I roam.
Pain; strife my lot in life, and yet
peace, joy, all happiness is set
upon the table there. At last!
The pain and strife is gone. Has passed!
Why?
This word brings fear into the heart
of all who practice in the art
of passing knowledge to impart
upon a youthful mind.
"Why is the sky above so blue?"
"And why should I listen to you?"
Questions like this, it is so true
Can be a fearful kind.
Do we ever stop the questions?
Have commands become suggestions?
Do our vain and poor expressions
Show what we really know?
When we were young, father taught us.
When we asked why, mother showed us.
If an answer was too hard, just
Say, "Because I said so."
Now we are older, not too wise
We wish that we could use the eyes
Of our Great Father in the skies
But it will never be.
We may ask why, He will not mind
We may inquire, He will be kind
Still if you ask, you may just find
He will not answer thee.
"Sometimes I bring you to despair
Sometimes gladness, when life is fair
But always goodness will I share
Child, because I said so."
Of Dainties
In the bosom of the earth
lay the home of brand new birth.
In the ground the secret see
to one day bloom, and dainty be.
That which shows no sign of life
Grows, uncurls like snake to fife
Ever stretching to the sky
whence it opens, by and by.
One day plucked by some fair maiden
in her tresses, lightly laden
Beauty upon beauty showing
Sun like brilliance ever glowing.
Can you quote these? that depends, are you going to give me the credit? As long as you make it known where you got these, then you are more than welcome to use them. They're wordss that God gave me, and I hope they have meaning for you as they do for me. However, if you use them without giving me the credit, it may come back to bite you where you'd not like to be bitten.