My view is clearly obstructed by the muck in this room, by the suck of this gloom, where there’s no place for space, and this pace serves no race worth running, except away from… Beats hit the drum some, but I’ve lost count of how any of this counts, when every price paid only amounts to a discounted effort… a lost sum of sweaty tears stinging heart’s thumb, ‘cause I’m still flipping through the pages, in spite of the cuts Everything is moving only where it stands Stampeding footprints – same old dance Story keeps telling, but never advances Chances pinned by circumstances, and no one’s making progress… The air – stale with the stench of regress Distress after distress… they keep coming to confess their bitter sob Don’t you know I am not your god? Imposed façade against my will Imposed supply against my bill Demand falls on all deaf ears, while knowing eyes watch me pay the price, grinning as I dig deeper and deeper, sowing promise for the handless reapers These fingernails taste the grit, lose grip in this bottomless pit, where life slowly fades into the walls of everyone else’s falls, and I am left to wallow in a haze of trepidation that isn’t even mine. Those sins – not mine to bear These faults – not mine to wear This world – not my belly’s fare, and starvations leave me cross, swimming in a blur that feels like lost But I know who I am, and the streams still flow against the break of the dams Orientation of self won’t be drafted to damned Spy this warrior of life as if the intel is real, but the shade of the armor doesn’t match the reveal Wrapped in a skin to show a fight that you think you know, but blow after blow refines the kingdom within Whose view will your darkness stain when the vein is severed, the drawbridge closed, and this breath of tenderness transposes into a cool breeze that carries all your debris far away from my sights.
… that carve far deeper than the surface,
drowning all traces of purpose…
Breaths bleed blue ‘til
inflamed passions spill red hues.
Every right to choose, but
the beaten path becomes familiar.
Tragic howls resolve to whimpers
(and we’re all taught – it’s rude
to listen to whispers).
Bitten tongue composes lies.
Broken soul breaches eyes.
Heart struggles to chant its beat,
the sole echo of delayed defeat,
as will still trembles without its pride.
“Alive” comes in many forms:
dormant pulses, social norms,
raging fleshes, and spirit storms,
but, oh, the stench of dead
cuts to the core. The
Dark One’s whores delirious,
stomp their heels of hopelessness;
choke with grips of hatefulness; and
drop their prey into the mist… with
impressions chiseled beneath the breast.
But, the wash flows down deep
with the come up, and the
rise lets new life steep
in love’s cup.
Outlines of “was” take on
shades of rediscovery.
Sketchiness develops into
layers of vibrancy, ‘til
colors of depth reflect the light which
no impression can overcome…
sadly, a realization for only some.
The fisted spoils of the spirit undone
loom in the balance
far too often for far too long, waiting
for an utterance to be heard, praying
for transforming terms to free
the broken story… to see
the allegory… to be
the love that helps the etchings fade.
This silly world of ups and downs,
grasping for earth and clouds
in disproportionate measure;
fiening for frivolous work and
Where is the weight of existence
when hearts are heavier than
the feathery disposition of mind-kind?
Man is but thought and flesh,
losing soul in the center,
casting out his Inventor for the
adulteration of both.
Full scope narrows as the
cascading of false joys smother;
tethering one lie to another, and so
we suffocate in the smokescreen
that holds our baited breath.
Drawing in deeply upon the
staleness of – this is all –
and there life falls into the void.
Who is left annoyed by this
emptiness of being, this
looking without seeing, this
thinking without knowing, this
taking without needing, this
acting without feeling?
Treachery is breeding, while
balance flees its cause, leaving
today’s teeter in the shadow
of tomorrow’s cost.
I start with the end
because it is the only known
in a reality blown to pieces
by shades of gray explosives
planted by the pretty faces,
strong arms and warm embraces
of false prophets with the dirtiest of hearts
in the purest of places.
If I’ve found a resting place,
then I’ve lost it – my grip on what this is.
Chalky blue skies whisper life’s secrets
as told by the stranded children
of a forsaken Lord,
leading generations of non-believers
down paths of misfit tragedy.
Yes – if I’ve found a resting place,
I have been misled.
For I am not my Father’s miss-gotten child,
and in this foreign land
amidst the back-stabbing nature of man;
I must not tarry.
Diligent is my soul,
harnessed with irreparable spirit that
stares blaringly into the eyes of the wicked,
not with a beseeching plea for reciprocity,
but with an inescapable love
and spine-bending tenderness.
Still, no less …
my compassion and understanding are
deftly limited by my
my inability to Know God
in my inherited affliction known as
Here’s the bind I’m in:
charged at birth with past, present and future
of the flesh, heart and clouded mind;
I face a darkness the sun’s brightest rays
I fall short of His righteousness.
But knee-deep in His grace,
I navigate the abysmal conditions of
a race gone mad
– called humanity.
And in spite of its insanity,
I break loose its chains,
letting the blood of Yahweh’s brow
run eternally in my veins,
so through the Lamb’s pure stains
I can see the spark of hope that reigns from
which is my home.
Thank God His path is known.
For I must end up where I started
as the Holy Spirit’s beloved departed,
bringing death unto the dead
and walking new into my stead
with my Dear Heavenly Father.
Breaths drawn strain through constricting reeds; inhales ache and exhales bleed the unknown. I become savior, martyr, motivation and devastation all in one. He severs the hand of Yah while reaching for the serpent’s tail, introducing me to the addict’s living hell. Life and death weighted falsely on my shoulders… a broken heart’s boulder to carry ‘til the end. Beats of hope in the void, now his target practice, are too wounded to pulse for two anymore. Hours on end of loving him are sacrificed in blind devotion to the deception and desperation of his demons. Sights solely on the spawns of their semen; he’s chopping down trees of life for no reason. Truth sprouts open pores which whisper, I’m yours… if you maintain. How ironic, his creatures are manic and wild, but it is I who is insane; holding hands with the universe pulling in vain to rescue man from adolescence when the nightmare is his preference. Chasing unforgiving darkness into a world hopeless and loveless; he watches every tear fall pointless from my shattered olive branch. Cold winter chill blows hard into my fading garden, and warmth escapes my nature without pardon. What is this fatal blow? Why was this for me to know? I was not created for this death, nor prepared for such a loss. I pray, Must this be the cost? Oh God, the burning in my core, a pain I’ll feel forevermore, how will I bear the letting go… the deepest mourning of my soul
Smothered by brewed drops of death; Hope wrestles ’til limp, drained by retracting streams of possibiities because the tides never quite roll in. I’m no longer flooded by fallacies and false pleasantries. Despair, made fully aware, drifts into heart’s altar enacting afixia. Pale, blue, rubbery crow plucked bare by reality… sick from toxic puffs of love gone awry. Lie after lie wake and watchful rob me blind. Darkness becomes sublime before the treacherous dawn. Life trembles right before it dies. Now, I exist for another time.
Free flowing Flame roaming Untamed Fire in the wild Blazing lovechild Earth met Heaven In the meanwhile And sprung This dance Into colorful chaos Moves that live To consume Dancing whispers of Love With a heat that murmurs Come to me Heeded Answer exceeded anticipation Trickled in Like tidal waves Bum-rushing Burning veins Run Duck Sway No escape Fuel’s rape injecting Explosions of corruption Inciting Inferno’s rage Torched stage Next phase Smoke settles Ash remains Nothing’s the same Fire met gas Neither maintained
organic my skin bubbles up manic as vessels tremble inside love conquers all but ambitious blows collide with my chi this is bigger than me hopeful he entered me as a dragon hard and mystical breath warm and soothing left me singed still… heat waves pulse like chronic seizures with thoughts of him imagine what his touch does embers blazing beneath bronze eyes what can i say that won’t melt in his flames words run scared down my throat before i choke gaze falls upon perfect puffs which frame his mouth a single graze affirms woman was made for man here I am but she rode him first vengeful scarlet dripping crystallized dreams from her diamond-studded crotch haunting wooing stripping down his soul with her mind-licking poison he’s lost in her… her lustful ways seductive moans addictive taste lifeless heart his chosen fate he’s lost in crystal … I’m just lost