Saturday, March 29, 2014

Shame

An ever present burden weighing down my soul like an anvil on a feather.
I am stuck and immobile whilst others laugh, play and live it up
(or at the very least, choke and sputter along).

Deaf and dumb to the world around me,
all I see are plagues tearing up my soul,
giving me hives, careening me out of control
(yada yada, I could go on...).

But as I look up to the clouds and the moon, the sun and the stars,
I am reminded of angels and miracles, of heaven and an empty tomb
and remember there is a whole other blessed dimension to this life,
a reality that lends a patient hand to the struggling soul and holds on tight
while they wriggle and worm their way out of trouble...
(that would be me officer)
and so it is.

Friday, March 14, 2014

King

KING

Through many perils I have come, 
mind and soul almost undone.
A feverish pitch of fear I had,
a lengthy battle, I was nigh mad.
But then He rode in on an "ass",
and I no longer was harassed.
He came and offered me a crown
of roses for my devils frown.
I gladly swiped the gloom for joy,
felt I had found a brand new toy.
We danced and sang and spun around
a fresh momentum I had found.
I loved this Man this new found friend,
who held my heart and who did mend
the pain, the hurt, the wretched fear
that held me back for all those years.
And so dear friends, some young some old, 
this is my story:  
God is gold.

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Hodgepodge

I wasn't supposed to make it, but I did.

The odds were against me...  I was insane, inane and I pounded the pavement with angst on my shoes, my eyes obfuscated by my dreams, bewitching nightmares based on cocaine and drug addicted fiends befriending me every which way and that and then some.

Of course I chased.  My mind wanted and fought and sought to obtain more and everything bad to prove to myself

that I could,

that I could,

that I could,

that I wasn't scared, that I wasn't afraid, that I was a badass--tough and nasty and mean.  I became a cockroach because of it, making nice to to scum and the like because I thought that was cool, that was the way to go, coke-whoring my way through North Beach --pretending of course--  aye, sigh.

But I'm grateful to be where I am today, who I am today.  No bonds, no chains to hold me back, addicted no more to a gangsta rapist who drugged me with his "love" and murdered me with his soul slashing me to pieces so that when I left, I collapsed in a mound on the sidewalk while people walked around me gaping, pointing, staring.

Nope!  Now I am whole, loving, a creature of modest means, of high hopes and bigger dreams.  Pouring out light as best as I can through this vessel of fractured beauty and momentous delight.  Thrilled to be laughing, singing my way through this thing called life, haunted no more by heinous crimes and twisted lies inflicted upon the soul, the heart and everywhere else.

Now, Jesus fills me top to bottom, yes siree Bob, and I can say that life, in all its raw beauty, sings an eternal heart song now wrenching, now glad that I can live with.  Finally, everything makes sense.  Through His eyes, I can see, I am no longer blind but free.  Now I can dance with arms wide open head tossed back to the wind with a song in my soul that I can sing.

What more can I say?  What more can I do?  This piece has turned into a rhyme for you...  I hope you like, I hope you enjoy and turn to Him, the height of all joy.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Life

It hits you hard sometimes, don't it?  With its twists and turns and unforeseen nightmares that come screaming at your door begging for entry, apparently out of nowhere.  Occasionally, these horrors push their way in, menacing and unkind, without regard that you're making dinner or mopping the floor.  And there they stand, staring at you in the face, point blank.  Things you can't ward off with garlic or Vic's Vapo Rub, like tumors and accidents and heartbreak.

Sometimes life hits you square in the jaw and you gotta take it.  Asking "why" is beside the point --it's like asking why the sky is blue, or the grass is green.  It is because it is, and that's that.

But does it end here?  What about the blue-haired lady in the Mini who always smiles and has a kind word for you, or the man at the gym who composes a poem out of nowhere in the middle of a stretch, leaving your heart open wide, and your eyes glistening with tears?  What about sunflowers so big their faces heave over, and museums, and Farmer Joe's, and warm laundry and Chinese food?

These, I believe, are the reasons I stick around.  Because as bad as evil is, good is better.  So yeah, my heart aches, people kill each other and the world is going to pot, but "I know the Lord is always with me.  I will not be shaken for he is right beside me."  Psalm 16:8

 And so it is.

Season

As summer fades and autumn creeps in, picking up momentum as the days go by, my mind adjusts.  Fleshing itself out like a newborn putting on weight, the season takes form and I watch, observant and curious. Things are changing; light is shifting and the sun readies for a snooze. Nodding off, I start to fall asleep as well.  Somnolent and heady, these impending months lull me into slumber, a different dimension now chilly and contemplative filled with their own treasures.

Where summer was brash and insouciant, fall is modest and moody, winding down it's cha cha and slowing to a trot.  I feel sluggish and sad as I adjust to a pace no longer carefree and blithe.  If I tossed my cares to the wind in the wee months of heat now I bare them bravely, weeping with nostalgia (am I being melodramatic?  I'm listening to Wagner).

A forlorn fan sits on my desk; a relic of days gone by.  I'll be putting it away soon and my heart bleeds.  But autumn comes, and with it cozy, reflective days, root vegetables and the like...

If summer was flowers by my computer, fall is a pumpkin on my desk.  I guess that's not so bad.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Trust


"Trust Me" He says, and my heart goes bad; fluttering and palpitating...
"Trust Me" He says, and I wanna cry and scratch at the walls, tearing off plaster until my nails bleed. I want control, but have none.
I cry and writhe in agony; impatience a gnarled whisper that tethers and pollutes my soul.
Yet I know he's right... 
Still, I rail against him calling him every name in the book and then some.
Pounding the ground, I whimper and moan. The pavement is dented with the weight of my rage. Railing against him I beat at his chest, my fists pummeling into him like sleet; sharp and merciless. And yet he stands; bearing the brunt, looking at me with his gentle, steady gaze, waiting for me to relent.  He is patient in calling my name, calling me, to a higher ground, steadfast and sturdy.
"Daughter" He says, and I come, my handkerchief dirty and soaking with tears.
"Come" He whispers, leading me away, his arms around my shoulders enveloping me in peace. "Let's see where he goes" I say to myself. And for now, it is enough.