DREAD
January 15, 2006
Take my yesterdays and do not offer anything more.
I'm still reeling from the power of hate.
How could I have known this was what was in store.
Take my present day as it is full of moments to late.
There are no riches and bounds of undying love.
Nothing can change this reality of sorrow.
I'm full of feelings that taint, maim, shove.
Open wounds grow as I dread tomorrow
RESOLVE ~after dread~
June 15, 2013
Take your hold on me and go to hell.
I'm still reeling at your need for revenge.
Your coldness as my hold on life fell.
The fire of your anger left me singed.
Gone are the emotions that kept us tied.
My heart is cold now and no longer involved.
I'm comfortable without you at my side.
I've shed all my tears, at long last resolve.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 5:20 AM UTC
Ahhh, the sweet ache of loss.
When nothing fills the hole of absence.
Ache consuming every moment.
Death feels like it has a voice.
Saying it is time to join the ******
At the feet of evil and the head of good.
No this will not keep holding up empty.
Finding a balance will dry tears.
This shell will be strong and complete.
Holding back deaths rage.
Quieting the spirit and winning the war.
Becky Jo Gibson
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 8:27 AM UTC
My strength slips into darkness
The dagger that cut my core
My blood pours over smiles
Laughter caught in the deception
Great is the hole left in me
Sorrow the only constant
You leave emptiness behind
Thank you for closure
Nothing binds me to you
You died in my blood
Becky Jo Gibson
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
since seeing you my mind is filled up
I was ok, really ok and not looking back
now I feel you again and I'm angry at God
I've words eating away at my spirit
you have my love tucked away behind your eyes
I understand why you are gone
I do agree that we are not seeing tomorrow
I don't want you today
I want yesterday...our first days
that is where my words could be felt
it was then that your eyes could shine
when you felt me in reality
I could have respected you
there was a chance I could wrap up in you
a fleeting chance it could have been me
me and you meeting on that bus all smiles
us making plans for tomorrow
yet I'm here today without you
thank God without you
your love for me is phoney and ugly
your passion was all I could feel
everything else belonged to others
I am not ok that you set me afloat
I am not ok that you didn't even attempt to know me
I am sad and angry at you
you, my ex lover...never my man
just a toy who I fell in love with
and like all toys you were outgrown
not as I would have it I must admit
I still believe...it should have been me
6-6-15 becky jo gibson © all rights reserved
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 9:55 PM UTC
With venom he speaks loud his rage.
It takes no time to express his need for revenge.
The depths of her betrayal takes emotions, locks him in a cage.
I see only a fragment of the heart she left singed.
What she took deepens as his soul bleeds.
His scars grow, eyes blacken as he weaves her web.
Angry, tattered he speaks of the times he gave in to his twisted need.
Nothing I see or hear declare his prisons ebb.
Betrayal turned to resolve make alone his new creed.
A thick wall without doors protect his ravaged heart.
Her ruthless actions stole his fire, his passion gone, complete.
Try as I might missing are the words hope will impart.
My attempts to comfort fall on the empty soul of a man.
Time heals yet for some it serves only to deepen sorrow.
All women are the same, they lie, cheat, set men up, scheme, plan.
He lives in her web, she won, he is lost...no tomorrow.
By BECKY JO GIBSON
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Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 12:41 AM UTC
November 17th, 2007.
Becky Jo heard, no felt His call.
The day I learned I'm bound for heaven.
I became new, forgiven for sins big and small.
I studied His gift...learned what he gave for me.
My mind out of the way I learn.
I am part of Jesus' Body.
I know a love no action can earn.
I rejoice in what I know He needs.
Study, pray, acknowlege who He is.
Speak of His sacrifice, testify, plant His seed.
Glorify Him, show all that I live to be His.
To give all my Glory to God above.
To give way to His light at my feet.
Sharing His word humble in His marvelous love.
My fire so strong I can't stay in my seat.
I am His tool to use no matter what.
I give my all to spreading His love around.
I give remembering how that whip ripped and cut.
I give for His joyful family and love I've found.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 12:37 AM UTC
I wandered far after losing my faith very young.
I was a pagan from twenty five to forty seven years old.
So far gone I studied it all from wicca to Carl Jung.
No matter what I found my spirit remained cold.
The reasons my faith faultered kept me locked in hate.
All things ugly found a place in my broken heart.
I thought life was about material things, money, food on my plate.
I lost everything tangible except what fit in a shopping cart.
God went to great lengths to bring me back into His fold.
In the street I ate only if I sat through a Preacher teaching us Gods word.
I fought against my narrow view of a Christians mold.
Spoke on how Christians were dumb, their beliefs absurd.
Flesh cannot out hold out when God has a path that He clears.
I began to open up, my heart and spirit starting to heal.
Slowly my walls came down and hope replaced fear.
Hungry, cold and wet a winter storm hit and I sat needing a meal.
Headphones on I paid no mind as the Mission filled with people like me.
I was interrupted by a man and woman tapping my arm.
She told me to pay attention as she felt her words would set me free.
I looked into her eyes, I knew she meant no harm.
I listened and felt every word this couple spoke.
They told my story from beginning to present day.
I knew that life left me the day my spirit broke.
I let my guard down and felt His touch as he lighted my way.
Becky Jo Gibson
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
Desperation feels so intrusive to me.
Like the crazy relative no one wants to see.
Hitting my peace out of the park with ease.
Taking my moments in time to another, full of need.
Can't begin to empty the hole filled by desperate seed.
Then a light of hope opens up the hopeless in me.
Beaming real and complete I feed. Desperations power gone, I find I'm at peace with me.
Becky jo Gibson
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 12:32 AM UTC
Flooding waters came as the rain fell on my tent.
It happened so fast I was not able to get out.
Surrounded by water, I watch my friend dig a trench.
I feel so powerlessness it fills me with doubt.
Wondering what I am doing back here in the riverbed.
Before the rain I was happy to have a home and felt good.
It's morning now and I'm grateful I'm not dead.
What was beauty is now ugly, barren, wet, crude.
I wonder if the rain is done with it's showers of despair.
This storm took more from me than material things.
My desperate spirit is also in need of repair.
Time to get up and see what another homeless day brings.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 12:28 AM UTC
Seperate from societies norm we mingle on the streets.
We live in tents, cars, doorways, many sleep on the concrete.
In towns, cities, ghettos, amoung regular folk to societies elite.
We notice anger, fear, disgust on the faces that pass us by.
Every so often a civilian stops to lend a much needed helping hand.
Offering items for norishment, warmth, pets, showing compassion, they seem to understand.
More often its the police with a complaint telling us to disband.
We move on spoiling someone elses day for the space we occupy.
Some of us are lost, alone, mentally ill, no family that gives a ****
Drug addicts, alcoholics, displaced vets, regular people who lost it all to a scam.
Children, runaways, women who were abused, some don't care, some with plans.
Visible, yet feeling invisible we help one another minute by minute barely getting by.
I helped dozens of homeless people today just like I do everyday.
My chioces are lost in the time it takes to survive and help others along the way.
I can't complain as I have God to help me to make it through each day.
He gives me strength, comfort and peace as people pass unable to look me in the eye.
The feeling that comes over me when I give to someone like me...
Humble comes to mind, so does joy; only when I give do I feel truly free.
That is when I feel at one with God and totally 100% right with me.
Being homeless is hard on ones spirit; the pain I see often makes me want to cry.
As the days became years I see that God has a purpose for me here.
Sometimes I wonder what it is other times it's perfectly clear.
I find I do a lot better when I keep the Good Book near.
I praise the Lord, I read his word, I speak his name, I look people in the eye.
There's no denying the need that falls upon people when we're out here.
I'm doing my best to help open people's eyes and make our plight very clear.
Fact is most of us really don't want to live like this...we see alot, live in fear.
The mind very powerful, it feeds the soul with what it sees most it does not deny.
When people look at us with hate, fear, all things foul and without concern for souls.
Takes our hope, self worth leaving emptiness where we may have once been whole.
Products of our environment we get stuck for lack of eyes that see out of this hole.
I pray everyday that each one of us finds the love we need and gives us wings to fly.
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Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC