all the words of men sound drunk to the sky
except occasionally the words of drunk men
which saturate briefly with thanksgiving and awe
drunk on all the varied hopes of man
his arsenal of staffs
for the long journey
the unwilling gypsy
unaware of what it means to have a universe as his home
and the earth as his pillow
Oct 7, 2020
Oct 7, 2020 at 3:36 AM UTC
When you truly invent a new type of beauty
you will never know it's place
and those around you will trip and awe
until they finally learn to circumvent your presentation
you will go from bright
to an invisible sun
the sun will one day call you kindred
and name you it's successor
the invisible sun
will become the only one
and the city at the bottom of the hill
where the children of the ones who walked away
will build solar panels and plant gardens
beneath the newly invented beauty of your sun
Oct 7, 2020
Oct 7, 2020 at 2:55 AM UTC
what is the weight of beauty
a cloak you can never wear
but only carry
and when they try to take it from you
they can only pull at your skin
leaving your hands holding what you'd rather drop
when your hands
are all that's left
and you deliver beauty your destination
it will finally redeem all your sins
Oct 7, 2020
Oct 7, 2020 at 2:48 AM UTC
I can tell when my heart is searching
and when it is far off
when waking does bring me closer to the sun
but farther off
but it will come back
when I've put the moon to sleep
and my enemies far off
and my dread far off
Oct 7, 2020
Oct 7, 2020 at 2:21 AM UTC
The devil has two options
**** me or quit
because continuing to mess with
is creating the most epic testimony
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
I’m sorry
I made you that I could change
I made you think that I would
I made you think that I could
I wanted
To see you lean on me
For you
To hold me down
Keep my feet
On the ground
I wanted
To touch a piece of heaven
Feel the lightning strike my heart
Tear the past pain apart
But you
You deserve love
I deserve
Painful isolation
I deserve to be alone
You
You deserve the sun
You deserve the moon
You deserve the light
And I won’t stand in your way
Cuz when I pray
I know I can a trust Jesus
To remind me of love
But baby
Whenever we’re together
I know I’ve done a good thingn
And a good things been done to me
And even if I forget it
And start walking down the wrongs road
I can trust Jesus
To remind me of us
So give me, the grace to say I’m sorry, because I sometimes I have a bad mind, and go through some hard times
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
Vision sometimes becomes blurry
when darkness moves at the speed of your sight
and the shadows encroach on the peripheral of your vision
and looking for inspiration becomes like being in a tunnel/
At times like these a second pair of eyes relieves the pressure
another dimension to add to my line of sight
At times like these another pair of eyes combats the haze
and the horizon of your perception leads me to brighter streets and metropolis waves/
Like neon lights
in the mall after dark
like wedding rings and violin strings
like a silhouette of light etched upon the night
A muse references the future through the now
A muse makes even the abstract man aware of daylight and sunshine
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 10:59 AM UTC
Thank you Lord for saving my yesterday,
and for saving my today if I make it to tomorrow,
but if I fall on the battle field today
who will offer You my thanks when the sun rises tomorrow
All I have been constructed into
is like a seeing a building being built
while some of the stones were crumbling,
You are the Mighty Creator, moving towards completion
All the earth declares Your marvelous wonder,
and so oh Lord how can You be mindful of a small voice
that professes in it's own language, it's own weary gladness,
again, make the singer's song sweet to his own ears
Mighty Lord Your majesty contains all things,
and so the honorable sons of God declare
that all the earth should exalt the name of the Lord,
thanking Him with singing and dancing because they too are the blessed property of a Holy King
Let not my thanks fall into the abyss of woe,
Let not those who stand against Your Glory see me silent,
Let not the earth be scorched any longer,
but let your people honor You, carry those who thank You to your Holy Mountain Top Kingdom
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
I’m lending Trayvon Martin my pen
because it might be enough to clear the static,
because it may be enough to point straight through
the thick smoggy thoughts of society and law.
If I was a young black man, which “I" am
I’d be a little upset that someone killed
my brother. Never mind my other dead brothers,
or the other cases I see of police treating
people like me with inequality.
Should Trayvon have surrendered himself to
Zimmerman. Should young black men have to
be passive to stay alive. Do we allow
people to shoot shots in
the chests of most resistance.
What should black men do? It seems best
to cry, but I don’t feel tears coming.
What should any man do, expect think
clearly enough to know when something
is wrong. As for Zimmerman he is not
evil, but he is a killer, and his brothers
blood is on his hands. He should at least
cry, or try to feel the tears coming.
The only voice that speaks is the
word of the law. Even Trayvon is silent,
the dead hold no grudges, and gunmen
go dumb under the cries of spilt blood,
I keep telling myself justice is process
making better days from dark ones,
but it seems like every bright generation
has to step aside for the tears coming.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
That single leaf
looks as if it has some grey in it's green
because the clouds in the sky are obscuring the sun
overcast days polish the sun white
and the dusty leaf hangs
looking like it will last
it would be cool to the touch
and bitter on the tongue
it's transpiration
those sweaty lungs
there are a thousand
a few bunches orange
a few brown still hanging from the branches
there are four thousand fallen
crunchy like baked chips
breathing no more
leaves number 997, 998, 999
hang from branch number 8
during the 4th hour of a day in the second millennium of man
a dark night spins dreams simultaneously
and a single dream leaf contains a record of eternity past
like an old friend who suddenly knows magic
and reads shakespeare
leaf 998 is a streak of ink
on the pages of life
like a glorious ray of sunshine
peeking it's head
into the future, heaven
like slipping between the curtains of the present
breathing for tree 700,237,112
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC