Connected

Connected

 

Everything is connected to something

My phone to my computer

To a Savior to His father,

My father to the world,

The world to me and me

Through them all my

Twitter to facebook,

To my blog, shall I

Hog all the limelight,

Shall I lye down

Without distraction

And plea that I cannot

Find satisfaction for

The crash of technology

Could be the best thing

For me and you and

This world off cue

And a barcode sku

They would scan

More items and

Stay connected

To the deadbeat

Drum of big

Screen tv’s

And blu-ray

Dvds, anything

That will make the

Soul squeeze in

Dissatisfaction

 

On The Shelf

On The Shelf

 

All the have to be’s

And the wanna be’s

And the should be’s

Could be religiosity

That slips beneath

Me, that taking back

Sunday is just the

Beginning of coming

Back to Him and sitting

Still waiting to feed the

Lost birds inching for

Some bread crumbs

From the table of

Life for the birds

And Noah’s animals

Need to be redeemed

As much as me for

They walk and flirt

On the same dirt

And girt around

My fingernails

To set ships

Assail to the

Shoreline of

The benign

Demeanor

He shines

With a heater

And burns away

The expectations

That purges

The man that

Doesn’t want

To fail and sail

On ships with

Haphazard materials

And the etherials that

Preachers preach to

Get on goers coming

Back on Sunday but

Are they leaving with

Redemption songs

Or do we need to

Put it on the shelf of

Messages never

To be heard again

That He loves me

And us just the

Way that we combust

And move through

The rust of religion

Around our hearts,

He gives a new start

And for this I’m

Grateful

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stand Up

Stand Up

 

I stand up for purity and righteousness

And the world bows to their own

Wickedness as if taught from TV

How to be their own sitcom

And trip on wires they cannot

Overcome or

See the gravity of their own

Depravity, its come back to

Me that my flames are not

Just for me but the souls

That burn underneath

Me, as each day I am

Tempted to pretend

That I was once

Deported into

A country of

Truth, a community

Of resurrected proof

That He has been

Raising the dead in

Me since before

Birth, why I am

On earth I shall

Choose to stand

Up in between

U-boats invading

My seashores

As the whores

Beckons from

The street

Corners

And I act

As a messenger

Full of bowls

Of vinegar

That will

Soon sting

Tongues

And many

Will cry out

For mercy and

For that day

Some may

Crumble

Because they

Chose to stumble

Over the question

That you are with

Or against him

 

Mansions

Mansions

 

What makes no sense

To me is all the religious

Seniority and the priority

Number one engulfing

And surrounding the

Average Joe just

Trying to shovel

Invisible snow

Wanting to glow

And not barely

Survive where

We can so

Easily dive

Into the

Ocean and

Taste the

Salt that

At fault

Man flocks

To the rich

Pay to get

To but behind

The shoreline

Are mansions

I cannot hire

Assassins to

Burn them

Down I

Just wonder

What they do

Who are you

To ask where

The money

Comes from?

Who am I

To want

A reality

I cannot

Explain the

Realty signs

Digging into

The grass lawn

With a picketed

Fence the lack

Of this kind of

Cookie cutter

Clutter is not

The pertinent

Matter rather

It’s the wind

That blows

Over paychecks

Unable to pay

A mortgage,

Drive a car,

Get some gas,

Feel like life

Is a pass and

Not a stall still

Crash course

Of border

Jumping

Poverty,

Sneak me

Out of this

County,

This country,

Escaping the

Bounty could

Show me poverty

With humility I

Want to love

The mansions

Above

 

For Any Reason

 

For Any Reason

 

If you aren’t satisfied for any

Reason please call his number

Where shall I chop more lumber

To stack the fire I’m trying

To create and prorate all the

High buyers and explorers

Seeking to steal my home,

I am not satisfied with

The candy store anymore,

With Babylon’s whore

It would call out to me

And the raging sea

Behind me, I could

Find a place to stick

All the sticks in the way

From getting burned but

Then we would have to

Start over and send over

New lumber and a new

Number to call when

Humanity will

Inevitably fall,

And she could paint

It purple and ride around

On a horse like tourist

Attraction, a city for

Everyone’s satisfaction,

A number I could call

To give me direction

Out of the sensual

Habitual habitat for

Humanity that I want

More than what I have

Bargained for, I want

More than the Babylon

Whore, I want her to

Burn to the ground

When love in me

Will abound

 

 

On The Shelf

On The Shelf

 

All the have to be’s

And the wanna be’s

And the should be’s

Could be religiosity

That slips beneath

Me, that taking back

Sunday is just the

Beginning of coming

Back to Him and sitting

Still waiting to feed the

Lost birds inching for

Some bread crumbs

From the table of

Life for the birds

And Noah’s animals

Need to be redeemed

As much as me for

They walk and flirt

On the same dirt

And girt around

My fingernails

To set ships

Assail to the

Shoreline of

The benign

Demeanor

He shines

With a heater

And burns away

The expectations

That purges

The man that

Doesn’t want

To fail and sail

On ships with

Haphazard materials

And the etherials that

Preachers preach to

Get on goers coming

Back on Sunday but

Are they leaving with

Redemption songs

Or do we need to

Put it on the shelf of

Messages never

To be heard again

That He loves me

And us just the

Way that we combust

And move through

The rust of religion

Around our hearts,

He gives a new start

And for this I’m

Grateful

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Courtside

Courtside

 

Sitting on the sidelines

Of the courtside  of

Singles and doubles

And bubbles I escape

From to play in courts

I do not own, out of

The basketball zone

And fall can’t press

Ahead the coach would

Say instead you’re

A motor head, not

Dead standing still

We will let you play

Whenever you want

To, hearing people

Who believe in

You lacks it effect

Inside of me, swinging

In swing sets I did not

Make, living as a fake,

A rake it would take

To scoop up fall

Leaves in the winter

Left from the gutter

Not cleaned, the courtside

I choose to abide and hide

In what He created, courts

Of praise I enter in,

Swinging and resting

In what I did not

Create I choose

The opposite of hate

And love what I do

Not deserve

 

The Way

A writer’s revolt

A lover’s note

A castle moat

Would stay stagnant

And poignant it would

Be salient to say that

Changing the ruckus

Could change the

Friends at the circus

Charades and all that

Passes parades should

Have me wondering

Which company I

Work for, which girl

I want for sure, which

Wedding bells taunt and

Make me the man that

I’ve always wanted to be

Where you go that’s where

And who you are

 

At one point or another

You stray away from

Mother hen and make

Your own bin to sit

In, you become

Who you want to

Be and only mothers

Can pray you into

The way of glory

 

The Fear Of Him

The Fear Of Him

Understanding what it means to ‘fear the Lord’ has been a reoccurring theme in my walk with God and I am convinced that it is something that we, as the body of Christ, lack and need a convicting to awaken us to what it means. Simply put, the fear of the Lord is a reverence for Him, a realization that God is God and He can do what He pleases. If this be true in its simplest definition then one simple implication would come from us. Us is everyone, saved and unsaved, and it would mean that we need to repent for not seeing and not recognizing God. Man’s greatest sin is rejecting the reality of God. The fear of the Lord establishes us and keeps us awake and aware of His presence. And the more we get into His presence, the more we fear Him and are aware of Him. Its hard to explain to people some of the convictions that you have. People will wonder why you do some of the things you do, hence, your radical devotion to God…loving Him with all your heart, obeying his commandments, fighting for holiness in your life.

When we fear Him we can’t get enough of Him and what we do see of Him terrifies us. It terrifies us because God is Holy and we are not, but it invigorates us because we cannot live without Him. You are not safe but you are good, as C.S. Lewis said of God. There is no safety in Him. For God can raise me up and tear me down, He can throw me into the Lake of Fire as much as He can raise me from the dead to sit beside Him for all of eternity. Both are real realities. Both can happen. The result of fearing the Lord is loving the Lord. To conclude, we must have Him and when we have Him we fear his greatness and how awesome He is but we also see that he is all about loving us and keeping us close to Him. So, for the sake of eternity, terrify me now, tremble now and kiss His feet now. This is how we ought to live.

 

Take Off

 

Take Off

 

I am wearing university sweaters

Not my own, a place not called

Home, I never lived in a dorm

Lived up to the norm, was calm

During a storm but the time came

When I had to choose my major

And what am I to do with this

Life that’s been given to me

Or shall I get a masters degree

In something not regarding me

About me and my pursuit of

Making a clean cut suit

Presentation so the world

Won’t curl in hesitation to

Tell me what they really think

I am wearing shirts with icons

I did not create, I do not believe

In symbols that surround me

But the cymbals will clang

And without love I won’t

Be able to explain myself

At the judgment seat of

Christ, for he will ask me

Not about college sweaters

Or degrees or feathers I

Pulled from mascots, He

Will hover over my dreams

And before me will be what

Won’t get burned and for

That reason I take off

What I am not and I

Lay it down at his feet