I know who you are
when I can feel the weight of your soul
Pressing against my own.
It's colder here than anywhere I will ever know.
But I would rather die
than surrender.
Just another pouring rain
More debris in my storm drain
Leading to this fight within
Worn and winded once again...
Hidden turmoil I hold tight
Closer to wrong, further from right
I am bone and I am skin
You were innocent Gaylenn...
Another mark left by Cain
Another unwashed stain
Am I a product of Damnation
A soul worth wasting...
Once upon a time long ago
Green was my mind, fool was my role
Tainted deed was that really me
How much shame must I bleed...
35 years later I still feel bad about hurting her.
Life lets me breathe every now and then.
"God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve."
But what if God did? What if I showed you
the lost book in that cramped hand some call Moses',
right to left (you read Hebrew, right?), the Book of Steve?
Stefan, if you're Orthodox. Esteban
if you also worship the Virgin of Guadalupe,
but never mind those dark madonnas. The Book of Steve:
it's much like the rest of the Pentateuch, you'll recognize
the style, except that it was before Genesis 1
when Steve became a living soul. A lively, friendly soul:
when those animals came questing, Steve was thrilled.
He scratched their ears as he named them, puled
their ticks, asked them what they thought they should be called.
So he was scratching and chatting, naming away,
when up came Adam (Yahweh had been practicing men).
"Hey, dude." "Hey, Adam. You think this looks
like a crocodile?" "I dunno. More like a fox?"
They had a few beers (Yahweh's work of the day),
named five kinds of ants: Steve got carpenter,
leaf-cutter, sugar; Adam took fire and soldier.
Probably they made love, probably a lot (the world
Was young then), but the Book of Steve is demure;
Moses, or someone, drew the curtain of discretion.
When the curtain comes up, the snake
Still has brief feet, but Adam is changing the names
To better ones, and Steve’s not there. It seems
There were complaints. Stave talked to much, always on
About feelings, food, the slant of the light; sometimes
he wanted to be on top; he took the remkote, and didn’t
give it back when Adam glare. And his chest wasn’t nearly
enough like a pillow. It ws all too much.
The end of the book is torn out; there are marks of fire.
No one knows who defiled the Book of Ssteve,
But in some stories it is said that Eden has other quadrants
And that Steve is in one of them.
Stevek and the snakes with feet, and other people
Who missed the next book: the roc preening its iridescent plumes,
The unicorn lipping apples, the manticore haveint a dustabth.
They say that somewhere among the leaves of western Eden
was found a helpmeet for Steve, who was not fruitful,
who did not multiply, who had no dominion over the earth.
If er' a Soul was born to sing
to dance and laugh and play
to wish within a faery ring
and party with the Fae
If er' a Soul was born to write
her thoughts upon the breeze
and leave her kiss upon the night
with gentle graceful ease
If er' a Soul was born to be
a cherished welcome friend
that stays with us when shadows flee
and hearts are helped to mend
Then Soul is the one indeed
that lives loves laughs and breaths
and I am sure you've all agreed
it's lonely when she leaves.
I been seen it coming
I hope You seen it too...
No where will be safe for running....
when the horns blow for you...
See I've been in this life captured,
praying everyday...
And soon I will be raptured,
at any time any Day...
Now Where will you be when the clouds open wide....
What season is it? ask the midwestern pride...
See I told you before Pray...
Each and Everyday..
Because You never know,
When its your time to go...
Could be violence, illness, weather, or Just the time...
I just pray your soul was saved in time...
nobody's perfect, nobody's perfect baby...but would you believe me if I said I'm in love...I dare you to say it...mean it...Would you believe me if I said Im in Love...With Jesus, He saved me He'll save you!!...
But Thats not my religion...
thats just my relation,
that have with the man that owns all of creation...
See He told us about the signs..
There right in front of Us...
Just look at times....
We don't know when but he's warning U.S...........
You could just pray,
for Boston or Oklahoma or You could #PrayEveryDay
#D.O.L.F
Its sad times when doing Gods will makes you a deviant..
Cause society tells us to be content with sleaziness..
Content with pornography..
Content with arm robbery..
Content with doing foolish acts without apology..
It's sad times when there's goat disguise as sheep.
And the other sheep can't see..
All they can see are the a-like features..
So they continue to eat..
Even though everything that's pleasing to see isn't good for the soul..
Just because it glitters doesn't mean that's it Gold..
You cannot be content with the opposition
Even if its in the form of a celebrity or a politician
To stay your a Christian and then condone the unholy is a contradiction
Following Christ is not a neutral position..
Its a spiritual and literal decision to change how your living
So to live for Christ is to cause friction..
With society ...
The church is the worlds resistance..
Yet the worlds prescription
Christ hands of healing..
Who is really down to be a witness
Openly active not a secret agents in Christ mission
he seeks shelter from the rain
in the coffee shop
she offers him a cup of joe
she offers a moment to reflect
the hipsters and hangers about
fill her world with sight and sound
fill her senses with smiles and joy
but inside she know she needs something more
that this place is just an emblem
and cannot sustain a soul like her
she could have anything
she just need ask
but she cant find the words to describe
cant find an image to convey
her souls need
but its clear to him
its a ship sailing to distant spain
its a road leading out into a western desert
its a train rolling thru a dark stormy night to a northern town
its a footpath thru mist
its a man seeking shelter from the rain
he leaves with her smile
which she gave with a hopefull heart
now
wrestle with the shadows in his heart
but its her face that lingers
in the late hour
in this last time he will stand
the standards of the champions
the fighters for truth
the liars
and the ones too dark to do else but die
they gather in harsh light
and prepare to do battle and stand their ground
a prince of the beasts proud and fair
a champion to the ones who have no strength to call their own
the frame of time captures only the movement
but the fickle thought of who he is
prince of beasts proud and fair
champion of the clean linen uniform
regal bearer of the standard of a rising sun
reflected only in the young eyes
those cheering champions like him on from the side
but its only her smile that lingers for him
as his life flows spent onto the sand
she never did catch that train
never did escape that shop
never did grow beyond the borders
of the hipsters and hangers on
but least they loved her too
in their way
and that is some comfort
Our moments together were
An inconvenience for both,
Necessity for neither,
Desired only by me.
I was a stupid, little girl.
I need not hold back tears
My ducts for you dried out
When my
Faith, love, and trust
Ebbed away with
Disappointing and lackluster years
Dropped down a bottomless pit
Your ability to ignore
My existence remains
Ever admirable
While my sentiments remain
Everlastingly indifferent
I'm a cold-natured soul
When you're an old man
You will think back on the days
You wasted our time,
And turned a blind eye
You'll wonder why your only begotten child left your life
If you are lucky enough to reach an age of old
A numbness so comfortable
Unspeakably whole
On your deathbed
Peacefully waiting
The departure of your soul
Notice,
I won't be there
I've turned a blind eye.
Oh, father, you've taught me too well
A curious thing,
this mass of muscle and arteries.
Pumping blood around
Holding feelings tight in its grasp
I am angry.
It beats painfully, hard, fast.
I am happy.
It sings and it dances.
I am in love,
and oh how I feel it squeeze and leave me breathless.
That one’s my favorite I think.
Beautiful, beautiful breathlessness.
I am sad.
It weighs like an iron anchor sitting in my chest.
I have been rejected.
That squeezing becomes far too tight,
and suddenly, there’s nothing
but a hole.
The beating becomes slow, labored,
Breathing is suddenly painful.
The edges of the hole ache and burn.
Shredded and torn is the soul it protected.
I gasp for air.
Christ this hurts.
This mass of muscle and arteries.
It lies to you.
Tells you to feel.
Tells you to care.
Despite the pain,
despite the agony and the broken feeling,
you continue to listen.
And you die inside.
This curious thing…
It’s a monster.
I didn't feel the flutter of your feet,
I didn't hear your cry,
But I felt you,
Our hearts shared the same chords,
You are the only one who's ever touched my soul,
I don't know how this happened,
It breaks my heart to know I'll never see your sweet face,
Or hear you sweet little laugh,
I can only imagine your beauty,
Or the way you'd play with your daddy,
I don't know why things happened like this,
My heart will never beat in the right tune,
Because I never got to have you.
