| The only reason we have time is to gauge the lasting powers of good and evil. |
| So this is what it's like to be humbled: To have my human side stare me in the face And my hand can't slap the cheek. |
| I am only who I become when I walk in other people's shoes, for I have not my own pair. |
| Normal is what you accept in yourself. |
| I want to live in my bubble, Where all the colors reflect And I only see the rainbow they create. |
| When you taste evil And like it, Is it a greater sin? |
| And life goes on. If time exists. Maybe we are just stuck in the same moment Trying to get it right The next time around. |
| I've trained myself to look at every angle. Such simple requirements to classically condition oneself to be confused! |
| THE TROLL>>>> click here for a three part poem. |
| What is faith? A knowledge that my religion is correct Or a feeling that God is in control. The option of knowledge stares me in the face, But with it the feeling decrepitates. What is faith? A knowledge that the feeling is real? |
| Our waves crash in the same ocean, But waves never combine -- They just rise and fall. |
| Each religion, after it has had a building and tradition added to it, seems to become a place with specialized tools to worship God. I'd rather not use such tools and so worship God through my utter love for Him, for the tools are what we use to kill each other with. |
| Traveling to Adulthood We talked of dreams, Of expectation, Of morals and love. We felt God fuse our souls. The water tasted clear While we drank from the cup of innocence. Now it's bitter As we swallow the dirt of pain and sin. I watch you tremble of nightmares, Of flowing tears, Of regret and hate, In your fear, you ask where God is. I want to spit the dirty water Onto the cracked pavement where I stand And sit again on the pure grass Where we sat, laughing about the Escapes we'd made away from The life we've suddenly landed in. |
| The path 'tween trees of ideas and dreams, I trod myself, quite easily it seems. The end of this journey, I thought 'twas light, Not overbearing, but a holy sight. Yet as it has verged with the trodden road, I stepped upon the setttled dust of sin, Breathed in the sight, and inhaled the pain in. Now it stiffles me, my lungs are numbing -- Life is a common road, with rocks for stumbling. Even if my path crosses Life as a bridge, I'm treading it now, falling off the edge. |
| They call it growing up -- It's more like falling from the could of ideas We floated on as a child And stricking out head on the stone, Knocking out our feeling of God Until we have enough strength To ignore the blood we think is healing As it pours out the pain of the gash, Then letting God lift us to our feet That we are too afriad to stand on. |
 |
| AS MY POETRY TURNS INTO INSIGHTS PHRASED AS QUOTES... |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |