I – 111

“I”
Protected
heart under tattered sleeve
gently peeking through
Open and closed to the world
even the Heavens
til God made me new

Born
from the thoughts of the stars
unto mortals who never knew
the nature of my soul
Blooming in the grunge of
addicts, thugs and whores
empathetic folds into the whole

Never
belonging anywhere
daunting judgments haunting
every move… thought… prayer
Poured into myself
making my own existence real
deep beneath the superficial layers

Taken
captive by the darkness
Filling voids with false remedies
Telling eyes behind each veil
Until heart allowed no more
breaking spirit’s core
setting free the love which now avails

Freedom
Faith
Love

“Me”

For Dungeon Prompt: Becoming You in 111 Words

Shades of Settling

They can’t wrap their heads around it
No one can quite put a finger on it
Everyone’s a little bewildered by it
A few are very frustrated with it
But I have settled right into it

Such is my life… a joy seemingly straddled by sacrifice and solitude.

Why do I go it alone? This lifelong interview has one question and no one understands my answer. It’s organic, defeating and empowering…

I am cooling in the shade of settling.

Settling begins as a means for playing it safe; facilitating one’s fears into a logical discourse. In its midlife emerges a short-changing of sorts; realizing there should be more, you feel trapped with no clear way out. As settle matures, however, it becomes a tool for navigating towards a greater good, shaping the journey to the bittersweet end.

I traveled many fields and climbed many trees before choosing this one.

At one time, I ventured for the bitter bite. Eve – reborn – I settled for the subsequent fall, not understanding redemption’s power. Initially, terror strikes the heart of the virgin eyes upon the scarecrow illuminated by the beaming heat of the unforgiving sun, which will shine even if you melt away. Melting is easy. Disappearing into –this is it– feels brave, but is only a succumbing. Getting past it is paramount. So, I did… every time.

Spiritual sophistication evolves, if you let it. Winning over others, as well as “winning” in and of itself, loses attract-ability if you play the game long enough. You begin to measure the opportunity cost of your life. How much have I paid to be a part of another’s destruction? Why am I only part of a team when someone needs a quarterback to get sacked? When will the all I give be returned to me in like kind? Hmm… well, the benefit here is discovering that something greater is deserved; something better than what you’re getting, something grander than a muddled spirit. The lesson, however, is that one turn does not earn another. The resolved heart and soul must execute their being with exception.

How the rest is walked out is essentially a measure of comfort and culpability. What am I okay with giving away freely and what am I okay with being accountable for, because knowing makes you fully accountable for your choices. My choice grants me acceptation and frees me from expectation, but the caveat is a devoted hopefulness. I have settled into a joy unaffected by failing reciprocation, loneliness, personal injustice and the chilling atmospheres of temperamental circumstance. It is a settling because it is not a natural choice, but a selective one… a peaceful one… a discerningly intelligent one which challenges my heart and its proclivities, occasionally on the surface and constantly in my depths. But I am settled.

Yes – I am sufficiently settled, cooling in the shade of my scarecrow and grateful for its inability to consume me.

Still… there is always hope.

Dungeon Prompts: Stepping Out of Our Comfort Zone

By the way, this is outside of my comfort zone because it is a free thought piece. While it is thought-out, I tried my best not to sensor or rhyme or scrutinize it too much. It feels like more of a journal entry than a “piece” to me, which is definitely a bit uncomfortable. 🙂

All in a Day’s…

These days,
I’m amazed when
work isn’t life and
life isn’t work; when the
dollar that I earn fuels
more than the daily churn, and
the air that I breath is more than
a means for concern. This burn gets
lost, vacating definition; who has
bandwidth to petition the “why” that
substantiates today’s existence when
yesterday’s fog and tomorrow’s blur only
leave room for reason’s resistance.
Toil evolves into an ever-give;
ever-give amounts to the way I live; living
gets forsaken by the cost I pay to grind, but
since that’s always been, I guess I shouldn’t mind.

For Dungeon Prompts: Live to Work or Work to Live?

Reigning in Humility

Daily futility tempts the soul
Nights and days unfold in vicious layers
So many players try to take hold
of a stayer by turning blind ears and
numb hearts to the truths imparted
Therefore, it’s best to just end where it
started – in silence
Deeper than physical, verbal violence
is a game changer at the core;
no good in store for forbearance forgone
Right or wrong, it is better to mend than
get caught up in the bend that
can send away a spirit to mix
in the depths of a fix fixed on destruction
Such eruptions cripple ties, forge spies,
breed despise and leave eyes cutting
through blinks of rebutting and, well,
there goes the neighborhood because
did didn’t equal should and
all that’s left is not for the greater,
but just no good, and
silence rules…
A tool meant for use before
disassociation was the excuse, leaving
circumstance as the dominant state
Reevaluate the stakes of loose tongues;
the rungs on ego’s ladder that leave you
high strung and choking, evoking life’s
standards when you could’ve been
exceptional, leading the processional
of those risen above, intending
in the love and lifting up
with dignity a reigning in humility

For Dungeon Prompts: Humbling Ourselves

Above

Licking the icing on the lower things in life
Flipping childhood memories on the edge of Newton’s knife
Calculating gratitudes against the scales of strife
Pondering the lessons gleaned from being darkness’ wife

Talking relativity and loosening up the scope
Walking out the seeds of faith to harvest greater hope
Reliving through the tragedies to prove I didn’t choke
It’s not about the bloody breaks, but how you choose to cope

Nice to hear the vibe is raw, though it lives in spite of praise
These words are not a work of art, just a thought that’s been delayed
Wounds may heal, but I suppose, it depends on how they’re made
The strength of a wall that will not fall lies in the brick that’s laid

Suited up, defenses ride out layers of the heart
Crossing finish lines just so I can press restart
Dragging all this laundry ’round, but I won’t play the part
Flip the script and roll the film, the horse trampled her cart

Running free, these strokes unleash the all that I’m made of
Unyielding ox… cunning fox… gentle fleeting dove
Holding nothing firm accept His universal love
Dropping rhymes below, so I can keep my head above.

For Dungeon Prompts: Why do you blog?

When…

Silence was my best friend;
unseen… unheard…
Not knowing which shade of consequence
at the end of a spoken word

Losing self in distant dreams;
unreal… detached…
Finding lessons through daunting means,
while ends remained unmatched

On shaded grounds I nestled;
away… at peace…
Hidden by nature’s camouflage ‘til
heaven’s moon stole my reprieve

Longing for my tomorrows;
not now… not here…
The life I’d rule with love and wisdom,
instead of rejection and fear

Listening closely to the world;
this heart… no wall…
Absorbing all of life’s dark hues,
seeing light within them all

Time was ever slow to move;
so still… so stale…
But change – a rabid thief in the night,
ran rampant as a fleeting gazelle

No one seemed to measure up;
not them… not me…
No portion or package good enough;
how could we all just be?

Holding my breath as I marched;
in place… alone…
The rambling mind of a drifting child
whose knowing was her own.

For Dungeon Prompts: What did you forget after growing up?

The Heart of the Matter

In and out air flows,
with this pulse blood goes;
head to toes, I am the proof
of the matter.
Flesh and bones,
within me roams
the good and evil that swells
from humanity’s clatter.
Kissed by Glory,
the center of my story;
a smoldering river running
through life’s winter.
And there is where
all the power reigns bare;
a ball of flames igniting
weary travelers.
Disarming, spin of wire;
discharging mystical fire,
rolling out the very stuff
we must unfold.
Unassuming overcomer,
universal spirit lover;
walking out mercy and grace
as scripture’s told.
Magical essence,
blessed quintessence;
spilling over into worlds who
want the drinking.
From here all words,
soul’s thoughts be heard;
unleashing love, the deepest root
for all the living.
Cast about,
self-regard left out,
braving the path for
anonymity transcending
to where my earth
meets Heaven’s hearth
and Holy hands commence
the gentle blending.
Without an ear,
but still it hears;
and though no eye nor mind,
it still believes.
For all it knows,
His Will imposes;
and in surrender, with one voice,
rejoices and grieves.
Nothing earned,
however discerned;
I’ve a force in my depths
which sets me free.
Along the way,
others too, I sway;
by way of this supernatural
heart living in me.

For Dungeon Prompts: Our Magical Powers