Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Warm is the summer day, as a memorial approaches
One second, the only difference between two days
That separates markers of joy, of happiness
Where we rejoice in the blessings of our abundance
But darkness tries to creep in, it lies, it waits
Though pain may enter, it will not render hopeless
Because today is a day of life, of ecstasy, of laughter
In celebration of lives made by the Master Crafter
I celebrate this day, in words now penned
To declare how much you matter, your preciousness to me
I didn’t want it to go unnoticed, I didn’t want it to cross unseen
To do more than just be related, to be a friend
How many chances did I have? How many did I take?
But a blessing you are to me, that is no mistake
Water droplets splash in the pool, dice knock against a table of delight
Somewhere a back-piano is played, make sure the fingers avoid the crack!
Wood, freshly cut, wafts through the air, joined with aromas of paint
Here it is always happy, here the price is always right
Mr. Ross has come to visit, he’ll be back tomorrow
And so did I, in those passed days
Strokes of a brush created that beautiful phase
Set as a reminder on the days of the low
I didn’t think of it then, and why should I?
It was a time to be merry, to live and enjoy life.
And so it is now, though the days appear to grow dark
But it is only in these moments can we enjoy the beauty of a spark
The glow, the light, the warmth of hope
Will never leave as long as we have strength to believe
That is these words, hope held in blotches of ink
Not written to express sorrow, nor to deny the treacherous slope
You now bravely traverse, though perhaps frightened to see
But this is another moment, in the chain of destiny, another link
To be forged and shown that we have a heavenly home
That in every struggle, none of us are truly alone
It may seem a light thing to say
As I am not there to help carry the weight
I wish I was closer than a thousand miles away

I wish I could be there for hope, to illuminate
Though my passion is true, our stories are not yet done
So let us remember the good of light in the shining of the Son
This is a hymn, an ode to victory
No matter how high the waves, we will cross the restless sea
Though winds shall rise to buffet us to pieces
Seeking to blow us off our heavenly course
Hold steadfast, we must, and prepare to step through the door
Because the bell tolls not, and it knows not whom for
Good tidings are brewing, future joy is in store
This will not be a sad, but a happy season
The bell will lie silent, and all will be quiet
Because victory over the dark has been triumphant
These words may seem hollow, but they be not for sorrow
They are written to give fresh beginnings for tomorrow
Words totter around rambling, how could this be happening?
Perhaps because there is no more to be said
The pen has scribbled, the ink has dried, the words have now been read
The letter sent, the message meant, echoing words in red
The path again seen, a joyous journey resumed, hands together now led
The period erased, the comma replace, now is time for giving
Of love, of good tidings, of casting a flame in the dark of night
Because in the end, with love that mends, everything will be alright

We’ve come to the end at last

Hold still before you crash

We both know how this road ends

I tried my hardest to make amends

But in the end it wasn’t enough

Because the journey has grown tough

I didn’t give up, but we were on a speeding bullet

I say I love you, now is my time to prove it

You look at me with glowing eyes, I’ve become your hope

I am only human, only flesh and blood

For you I would do anything, crawl through the mud

Through thorns, fire, raindrops of acid, all to help you cope

But you’ve turned me into something I’m not

My love is to build you up, not to be your salvation

You’ve been looking so hard, you so eagerly sought

To find that spark, to find a defining inspiration

Is that why you were drawn? ‘He’ll be good for me.’

I can make the hurt feel better, but there is no one I can free

My love for you will only be a tragedy

If I allow you to think I am your remedy

When a ‘nice guy’ is needed that’s when the heads turn

But nothing I can do will ever end the yearn

My love for you will only be insanity

If I let you believe I’ve become your clarity

That hurt you felt before, when I brushed the dirt off

Will return when the darkness closes in

When I try to explain but you tell me to stop

When I try to be good, but can only sin

You thought me above, carried me aloft

But nothing I give can fill the hole within

I pointed you in the wrong way, I was thinking only of myself

It’s time for me to step aside and illustrate the help

Love is not about receiving, it’s about what’s inside

So it’s time for me to show you in whom I abide

My clarity, my remedy, He drives away the insanity

He helps me bear every personal tragedy

He’s the hope you need, the hope you see in me

He is the hope, the flame of belief

Love is His name, the reason I must step aside

Because you must find Him, I cannot bring peace

He is the only way to experience life

The dark and sorrow of the past will fade in His release

I’m sorry for the walls, if indeed I put them up

But if you hate me for breaking them down, I’ll say it’s worth it

To see you live, to be happy and free

Is all I will ever need to see

I will be the tragedy, the insanity, my love I’ll admit

Because to love is to live for others even when stuck

Just see Him, just gaze upon his loving face

Should you forgive me, I’ll find you in that precious place

Where we’ll shed the lies and forever be honest

Where I’ll see you happy, though there is nothing more between us

Is there any future, only the present and past do I know

But if you are willing, I ask you to come down this road

Clarity from our tragedy, a remedy for our insanity

Enjoy the view, enjoy the new, close your eyes and breathe

I look to the sky and I dream, I dream of things that can never be

Of things wanted, but will never be mine

I wait for sorrow, devastation, and loneliness to come in due time

This is the world I’ve built, I’ve told my heart I’ll never be free

To think of things pure and right, no, I should just be happy to be alive

What right do I have to believe I deserve to be happy?

To have a loving wife and a wonderful family?

Always darkness, always pain, I’m an oxymoron, for good I strive

Striving to do good, but feeling I don’t deserve it to come back to me

People look at me strange but they would understand if they could see

No, they wouldn’t, because all I tell myself is lies

But the agony in my soul just won’t go away with the stroke of a brush

But still the dreams I dream seem as unlikely as castles in the sky

I can’t wait for the future, but there always is the past, reminds me not to rush

How will the ones I love feel when I tell them the truth?

When I look back and show them mountains of proof

How can dark utterances endear anyone to me?

The one I’ll end up loving doesn’t deserve a tainted thing like me

She deserves someone better, who never compromised

Who didn’t drink the dark and didn’t enslave themselves to lies

Why should someone good say yes to my bloodied hands?

Why should she look over the weighted chains of my shame?

Why should she agree to join me and make our house in unknown lands?

How could she not look upon me with eyes that are changed?

None are perfect, this I know, but I feel like the lone fallen

In a sea of white, a traitor to my king, a disease to my realm

Castles crumble in my mind, the sky falls swiftly

Every time I dream, I am pulled back by gravity

Others smiling, telling me, pleading, I deserve to be happy

I deserve to rot for what I’ve done, not have joy with its trappings

Take it all God, take the pain, the lies…dear God, take the helm

I want to happy, I want to love, I don’t want to live alone, sullen

The fighting in my mind, oh how I hate myself

I must admit I’m frightened of the possibility

Of how the dynamic will change once all is known

Let me step in faith, in You trusting

That she won’t despise me, sending me to her personal hell

That she can still smile, can still trust in me

That she won’t say two little letters, N-O

Not that I’ll blame her, but to my soul it would be crushing

Give me the strength to reach that day

That I’ll no longer let doubt quash the dreams hoped for, my hopes belie

Give me the thoughts to think, give me the words to say

But most important, give me the hope to reach my castles in the sky

Memorials are not for the dead, the departed do not care about adulations or great words spoken about their lives, quite frankly because they are dead, and will nevermore personally influence this world again until the blessed resurrection.

Why then do we have memorials, when those now gone care little about the words we speak today? Our words cannot comfort the dead, bring them solace, give them joy or experience hope.

It is like talking to the sky, merely molecules going from place to place. It cannot speak to us or offer us a warm embrace, no matter how much we wish for it to be otherwise.

The truth is memorials are not for the dead but for the living. And it is up to us, the living, to remember the departed, to remember the worthy life now laid to rest.

Memorials are remembrances of the dead to the living, so that the living may continue the good work started by our fore-bearers.

We remember so that in times of trial and tribulation, the stories of how our righteous dead persevered with God’s hand by their side inspires us to not give up, to keep going despite all the hardships set against us.

The lives of those now asleep give us hope, no matter how tragic or heroic their life’s story may have been.

While it is true that the dead cannot personally influence the world, their memories can. The examples of our fore-bearers have driven many of the living to great deeds, simply to give the honor due to the departed, to thank them for the sacrifices they made for a brighter future.

So let us remember the worthy life buried here today, and not let the flame of their memory die out.

Let it drive us to pursue Christ more, to live to serve our fellow man, to show mankind the blessed hope that each child of God has, dead or alive.

Show the world the hope of eternal life forever with our Creator, this is what the dead in Christ have done, can we not do the same?

Let not the paths forged by our dead be overgrown, overcome by the wilderness of sin.

We must do this, for anything less will dishonor their names and the name of our Father.

Now is the time for weeping, a time to comfort one another; but let us gird ourselves and prepare for the next day, so that the sacrifices of our dearly departed will not be in vain.

And like the day every life must set, and thereafter night will fall, but the night does not last forever, for like every night there is a rising. What was once full of darkness is now full of light, and the hope of a new day has now arrived.

Let us not forget that we have a king who was once put to death but was raised back to life.

Let the hope of Christ remind us of the hope we have to see the dead again.

Flame swirls around me, covering all my flesh. These flames are not of my creation, they are what I was created for. Passion pours out my skin and ignites, I won’t keep silent, nor desire to be, because to show people freedom is what I was made to be.

The passion is the fuel, but my burden is the igniter. I feel the pain of those around me like every lick of flame that wanders across my skin; painful, yet so familiar. They think because I try to pursue the light I am the light, but I am void of light save the light that has been put in me. The light is the reason for the burning, but the burning is good, it is cleansing, though I may be destroyed.

I burned before, from the sins of my past life, but I have been killed and raised, baptized into a new life. These flames may destroy me physically, but my spirit is whole and complete, no longer dwelling in the dark. Now I burn for others and the flames are for my gain.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain; unlike the burning with which we are so familiar, these flames make me feel more, like my whole being coming alive for the first time. So I burn evermore, as I feel every subtle tremor that afflict my neighbors.

Every broken heart that beats I feel pulse across my skin, the burning intensifies, I know how much agony they are in. Though I go through life constantly struggling against the pain, there are still some pains that send me crumbling to my knees.

I feel it now, as I crawl to find rain, praying for relief against the piercing pain. It is in those moments I remember a man who burned for us all, who gives me strength even though I barely crawl. It is His sacrifice that brings me strength and reminds me that I can bear it.

So again I find my strength, feeling weak but relying upon the one who is strong. My mind struggles against the whispers of darkness, of emptiness, that reminds me that no one is watching or cares. Not that I do this for attention, but it is easier to bear the pain when I can speak of my burden. I suffer so long in silence, words of comfort are often far away, but the Word of God is my counsel and guide; in no one else I need to confide. His strength is what keeps me going in the moments I spend in the desert, no friendly faces to be seen for miles or days.

So here I burn, here I stand. A monument to people’s pain, but truly finding my reason for living in offering hope. For without hope and love there is only darkness and pain, and I will not allow evil to make another gain. For every time I stare into those broken eyes, I feel unending tortures but I see the spark of hope that remains.

I take that spark, and by the holy flame that burns me it nurtures into a flame, giving it to the ultimate Burning Man to make a fire out of the flame. Praying with tears of ashes that He will take the spark he crafted into a rose of fire back into the heart it was taken from.

And even if that spark only remains a spark, I will never stop pleading that will ultimately outshine the dark. For there was once only a spark inside of me, but He shaped it and molded it until I became free.

Some may ask what sort of life is it that one has to spend in constant pain? But the pain I took on willingly, it is the only way it can be felt. Not that it makes me a better person than all the rest, it just means I deny myself to give others my best. This is my burden, my pain to feel, but I would rather spend the rest of my days taking other people’s pain and giving them hope, then feeling and caring for nothing though I may live more comfortably and with longer days.

That’s why I’m tired of making excuses, it easy to see what matters when all the material and superficial burn

away. So don’t feel sorry for me, I’m doing the only thing that can make me happy. They may call me foolish or say I’m too hard on myself, but I will only feel a fool if I don’t do what my heart, my whole being begs me to do.

So here I burn, here I stand. In pain from the flames but the flames give me purpose. I burn so the world may not, like one did for all of us many years ago. I can only mimic His sacrifice, but nevertheless I am the Burning Man.

Bear the Burden

We live in a culture of no responsibility, that the things we say and how we act don’t really matter. But is that really true? I think not, I think we are beginning to see a rebellion against these long held beliefs, people desiring for more than acting like an immature teenager in a grown up body.
I mean really, if Nike uses a slogan about making life count, and Hewlett-Packard runs an add about making what you do matter, we smile and nod our head? Of course they want you buy their products along the way, but if corporations can plug into the fact that people need a purpose, why do we still preach that a philosophy that believes that way is just a lie?
Like I’ve said before, people like morals, just don’t box them with an absolute tie. As long as absolutes are out the window, morals are perfectly fine. They are fine if don’t call anyone out of line, because people don’t want to acknowledge the line, because they don’t want to incur the fine. But we have incurred the fine because we have crossed the line, and we are anything but fine, but we don’t want to acknowledge the signs.
So we hear the self-proclaimed wisemen spout that there is no such thing as truth, but like Lecrae said, “why should I believe you?” If you think about those words straight, you realize that way of thinking will lead you to the wide gate; where the way is easy but the end has a bitter taste.
But those who want to believe the lie are the fools we find in those wise Proverbs, despising instruction, hating knowledge, lacking understanding, leading themselves to destruction. They scoff at these lines, thinking that I’m condemning them and just venting hate. But the truth is I speak these words because I want them to find life before it is too late.
It’s funny how people only talk about the dark when they see the light. But this is no laughing matter, for real lives are at stake; and if I am anything but great, people will look at me like I am a fake.
I don’t use the word as if I am great, because I’m not, nor can I ever be. But I strive to be like Christ, and Christ is great, and if I am able to stand it’s because Christ is the one who puts the strength in my legs. He is the one who gives me the power to keep moving forward, and the One who allows me to bear my burden.
Ah yes, this burden, my burden. Once upon a time I didn’t feel anything, due to my ignorance not because it did not exist. But now I feel it every time I take a step, every thought feels weighted, and every action takes on more significance.
Burden, this word has echoed in my mind. Burden, I remember it every time temptation comes knocking. Burden, it gives my life added purpose. Burden, I will crumble under the weight if I rely upon my own strength. Burden, no matter how many laugh and mock this is my calling, and by the Lord’s guidance I will carry it.
Because I will not accept the lie that no matter how far we rise our actions do not matter. They matter, no matter how big our small, we only use that excuse to make us feel better.
But I’m not looking to feel better, I want to be better. I don’t won’t to be like the Pharisee in Luke 18:11, but the tax collector in verse thirteen; God be merciful to me a sinner.

This is basically how I have been feeling the last two weeks and I decieded to release some pressure and write it out, so enjoy.

Pouring Myself Out to God

Words are hard to come by presently, my mind racing with so many things. Looking upon the works of my past cause me to smile and to relive sadness. Writing a few words explaining my feelings cause confusion not clarity, but Your ways I will always know what they shall be.
I wrote about being a guardian, being a protector for the weak; what do I do when I get a new duty every week?
Not a literal week, but with my emotions undulating like a roller-coaster it sometimes feel as though such a plight has befallen me.
Many times I hate myself for it because I find my behavior ludicrous, but I also think it is a side-effect of caring.
You can’t help but care about people when you live in the light, when you see everyone else continuing in their ways of strife. Not that I am much better, I still struggle to my shame, but I can’t help but want to guide people to a better life. You have shown me that life and want them to grasp it, and I want them to find You before they wind up in a casket.
I feel all these things, and yet like I wrote before, I feel so alone. I know you are by my side, it is because of that fact that I keep going; and not like a mindless zombie just trying to make it through the day. I make it through every day with a smile on my face, some pep to my step and a zest for life. You have given this to me, I will not be ashamed.
Part of it could be because of where I live and work, honoring God is last thing upon anyone’s mind, and sometimes being there can be very grinding. The darkness and sin grind upon my soul, trying to be a light in the darkness often takes its toll.
It’s like they say, judgment is easy, but getting emotionally invested in people is not. It’s messy, it hurts and sometimes people can be downright rude. And here I am, getting feelings for another girl for what seems like the fifty-fifth time. Sometimes when I drive in the silence, thinking, I feel like I am about to lose my mind.
And having now written all this, it feels almost like a rant, but there is nothing here that I am willing to recant. It is all true and extremely valid, these concerns have haunted the hallways of my mind for quite some time.
I almost laugh realizing the point of all this. It is the things I have been praying for at the end of every line. Let me be humble, give You all the praise. Let me use my time wisely, so I don’t end up in a daze. Let me realize the importance of every action, so I don’t fall into the trap that nothing matters except when there’s an election. A brother to Your daughters, to put my ego and desires aside. To flee from the ways of evil and to cling to that which is alive. Working not for temporal pleasures, but for an eternal home. But always hoping for that special girl so that I will no longer be alone. Let me be a friend to all, but always willing to tell the truth. Let me keep grinding it out for Your name so that the world will see the proof.
These are the things I pray, I glimpse into my mind. When I see it all on paper, sometimes I think I won’t be fine. But I will be fine if I stay with the Spirit, to Your presence O’ Lord keep me near it. So I put on the armor for what feels like the first and last time, let me spread Your glory and tell Your story; I am ready to rise or die.