michaelbpoetry - Hello Poetry

I saw the writing on the wall, forever slow upon the draw Its just the beginning- the beauty of infancy, celebrating the baby’s first steps. At times I need a minute just to catch my breath, at other times I feel so ever quick to cash in all my chips. I question if you’ve felt the same. My past is riddled with a longer list of what consists of shame- in terms of pennies on the dollar, I’m the brokest of the lame. I’ve had the aims of matchless flight, I’ve fought the battles not to fight, but on this night you’ve rattled cages, and exposed just how shamelessly, what’s good is truly right. Still I’m caught off guard when petrified beyond a breath. Calm my trembling hand, Please build a man who’s firm to stand, I beg you’d loosen up my grip Before I slip and fall on sinking sand. I get shattered bones when struck by beauty; Should I touch? Is this forbidden fruit? Is she the tree of Eden’s garden? Has my fear become a crutch? Can I be trusted when there’s lust? Am I disqualified from love? Cause in this moment I’m completely incapacitated by this drug. I flee from struggle, it’s a challenge. Are there habits not to quit? Yet there’s something different here, It’s unique in how it shifts. I watch these movements closely, while I’m fearful of the critics eye. Terrified that I’ve become, what I have known, who I despise. Frustrated to the core when little foxes nip and pick, At what I know is crafty workings of a gardener with gifts. They come to feast the choicest fruits, they gnaw and nibble at the roots- if I had any sense at all, I’d buy the biggest pair of boots; three sizes bigger then what fits and tie them tighter than a noose; go trouncing through that garden; not thinking twice about the fact that “oh, those foxes seem so cute.” I’d kick them hard and send them running- one by one, then two by two. Exhausted in the end, but maybe then we’d have our chance to rest. Not alone, but now together- we’d be closer non the less. Catch the foxes for us father, cause even if I give my best. My self sustaining effort will not help us past this test.

0

Nov 30, 2018

Nov 30, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC

Foxes

I saw the writing on the wall, forever slow upon the draw Its just the beginning- the beauty of infancy, celebrating the baby’s first steps. At times I need a minute just to catch my breath, at other times I feel so ever quick to cash in all my chips. I question if you’ve felt the same. My past is riddled with a longer list of what consists of shame- in terms of pennies on the dollar, I’m the brokest of the lame. I’ve had the aims of matchless flight, I’ve fought the battles not to fight, but on this night you’ve rattled cages, and exposed just how shamelessly, what’s good is truly right. Still I’m caught off guard when petrified beyond a breath. Calm my trembling hand, Please build a man who’s firm to stand, I beg you’d loosen up my grip Before I slip and fall on sinking sand. I get shattered bones when struck by beauty; Should I touch? Is this forbidden fruit? Is she the tree of Eden’s garden? Has my fear become a crutch? Can I be trusted when there’s lust? Am I disqualified from love? Cause in this moment I’m completely incapacitated by this drug. I flee from struggle, it’s a challenge. Are there habits not to quit? Yet there’s something different here, It’s unique in how it shifts. I watch these movements closely, while I’m fearful of the critics eye. Terrified that I’ve become, what I have known, who I despise. Frustrated to the core when little foxes nip and pick, At what I know is crafty workings of a gardener with gifts. They come to feast the choicest fruits, they gnaw and nibble at the roots- if I had any sense at all, I’d buy the biggest pair of boots; three sizes bigger then what fits and tie them tighter than a noose; go trouncing through that garden; not thinking twice about the fact that “oh, those foxes seem so cute.” I’d kick them hard and send them running- one by one, then two by two. Exhausted in the end, but maybe then we’d have our chance to rest. Not alone, but now together- we’d be closer non the less. Catch the foxes for us father, cause even if I give my best. My self sustaining effort will not help us past this test.

44

The pen can strike much deeper than the sword. Yet the sword will always have its place. It deserves the utmost respect. Like a solider who sets out to meet his foe- he recognizes his enemy and acknowledges its power. He's prepared for every blow. Know your place and learn your stance. Be ever quick to hold your tongue. The man behind a rifle analyzes every angle before he pulls the trigger on that gun. Both a bullet and a word can send a ripple in effect. Make no mistake in all your judgments they may stretch the length of death. Pressing on into the future yet we never know what's next. What does tomorrow hold? Take a guess, and I assure you it's as good as mine will ever be. I see a man behind a desk; he conjures up a thought. I see a soldier set in battle; he's prepared to take his shot. You see before the lights go out, there's always work yet to be done. As the clock continues racing, set your pace against the sun. Take aim. Your opponent is at the ready.

0

Nov 30, 2018

Nov 30, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC

Strokes

The pen can strike much deeper than the sword. Yet the sword will always have its place. It deserves the utmost respect. Like a solider who sets out to meet his foe- he recognizes his enemy and acknowledges its power. He's prepared for every blow. Know your place and learn your stance. Be ever quick to hold your tongue. The man behind a rifle analyzes every angle before he pulls the trigger on that gun. Both a bullet and a word can send a ripple in effect. Make no mistake in all your judgments they may stretch the length of death. Pressing on into the future yet we never know what's next. What does tomorrow hold? Take a guess, and I assure you it's as good as mine will ever be. I see a man behind a desk; he conjures up a thought. I see a soldier set in battle; he's prepared to take his shot. You see before the lights go out, there's always work yet to be done. As the clock continues racing, set your pace against the sun. Take aim. Your opponent is at the ready.

23

I hated doors when I was a kid I hated the floors And pots with a lid Comfort and ease were always at stake That's why carrots and peas were last on my plate The older I grew it was strange to see The more that I knew made the world more for me So, focused on self and with visions of wealth I lead with my passions And needed no help To my dismay I remembered those doors The light through the crack seeping in through the floors It's funny to think how without that small light I'd grow fearful of all the unknowns of the night I wonder what changes in minds of young men When the switch to "I've made it" Gets flipped in their head All grown And strong ***** stands a man so he thinks Looks at his dealings through blind eyes that blink Ahhh But he's married This would fix it he thought The baggage I've carried can now be dropped off She'll make me happy And I'll give my best- Seize without failing; Save and invest Dollars he thought... "Why's she upset?" By this time next year all our needs will be met Know in your heart the real reason she cries You're a well seasoned vet in promise turned lies With justified thoughts and a rationalized soul The tempter comes gleaning Sold! For pure gold And after awhile the young man looks back Again, Remembers the light spilling in through that crack The comfort it brought to a scared fragile mind Now lost in his years of "I'll take what's mine" There's always a story Someone else's we want To me be the glory Amen. I've been bought!

0

Nov 30, 2018

Nov 30, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC

Doors

I hated doors when I was a kid I hated the floors And pots with a lid Comfort and ease were always at stake That's why carrots and peas were last on my plate The older I grew it was strange to see The more that I knew made the world more for me So, focused on self and with visions of wealth I lead with my passions And needed no help To my dismay I remembered those doors The light through the crack seeping in through the floors It's funny to think how without that small light I'd grow fearful of all the unknowns of the night I wonder what changes in minds of young men When the switch to "I've made it" Gets flipped in their head All grown And strong ***** stands a man so he thinks Looks at his dealings through blind eyes that blink Ahhh But he's married This would fix it he thought The baggage I've carried can now be dropped off She'll make me happy And I'll give my best- Seize without failing; Save and invest Dollars he thought... "Why's she upset?" By this time next year all our needs will be met Know in your heart the real reason she cries You're a well seasoned vet in promise turned lies With justified thoughts and a rationalized soul The tempter comes gleaning Sold! For pure gold And after awhile the young man looks back Again, Remembers the light spilling in through that crack The comfort it brought to a scared fragile mind Now lost in his years of "I'll take what's mine" There's always a story Someone else's we want To me be the glory Amen. I've been bought!

47

Passionately in love with language, with the irony of how I only speak one. Minutes... hours... days... Months... years... I wonder who you've become. You couldn't stay. I understand. I wouldn't say I had a plan. You knew your course and I was drifting... Infinitely shifting I was missing all at stake. Caught inside those minutes, Stuck behind those lonely days. Sometimes I go walking There I look to find your face. Different strangers passing by Another time Another place. Across the lake I spread my glance Where tucked away are quiet homes. I contemplate the times I once saw us with our own. There upon the shimmer of the hopeful golden rays Are the days of summer dimmer Where I test the waster's grave. Dreams turned to regret I'd have far rather seen mistakes Yet you know most of all I'm too quick to give insecurity it's space. Now the pavement echos back with every step I dare to take I've lost track of what I'm counting so I listen... Hear the hum of roller skates. Soothing as I walk To think of conversations past Far too painful when we talk Knowing we aren't meant to last. I watch a fisher cast Think of what I hoped to catch If I'd have known it'd be this long I'd have drawn on every breath. Make it last Make it last...

0

Nov 30, 2018

Nov 30, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC

Roller Skates

Passionately in love with language, with the irony of how I only speak one. Minutes... hours... days... Months... years... I wonder who you've become. You couldn't stay. I understand. I wouldn't say I had a plan. You knew your course and I was drifting... Infinitely shifting I was missing all at stake. Caught inside those minutes, Stuck behind those lonely days. Sometimes I go walking There I look to find your face. Different strangers passing by Another time Another place. Across the lake I spread my glance Where tucked away are quiet homes. I contemplate the times I once saw us with our own. There upon the shimmer of the hopeful golden rays Are the days of summer dimmer Where I test the waster's grave. Dreams turned to regret I'd have far rather seen mistakes Yet you know most of all I'm too quick to give insecurity it's space. Now the pavement echos back with every step I dare to take I've lost track of what I'm counting so I listen... Hear the hum of roller skates. Soothing as I walk To think of conversations past Far too painful when we talk Knowing we aren't meant to last. I watch a fisher cast Think of what I hoped to catch If I'd have known it'd be this long I'd have drawn on every breath. Make it last Make it last...

39

And so... moreover- there came a time I thought we should talk But lessons in love, are the lessons it seems we're not told or taught. They're learned in time, and the pain does lose its sting, Well... that depends. I heard there was an interest; On her part, But that was quite some time ago. Shorty after, There was another interest. I still haven't met him face to face. But in that time I have truly met you. There's something about timing, How I can't get it right- Now I'm tired. Tired of dropping you off, Saying goodnight, while not being able to say, what's true on my mind. Tired of waiting for break ups. It probably won't happen and I'd be better off to just grow a pair. Honesty...? Well honestly- I have thought about us. I've thought about talking, That's when I get stuck. You don't bring him up. Why won't she tell me? Are you two in love? Last time... The only time- You said you were, "unsure." And I don't ever trust my interpretations. So, I hold on to hope. Hope that there's strain; A tension you face. Relational strife of the misguided type, The kind that you'll question- Is this relationship right? What a horrible hope. I know. It makes me a **** What a tragically sinful idolatry slip. But that's just me; always taking the throne. It's not bad I don't like being or feeling alone. Nor do I think it's good. I would rather be confident, trustworthy and true. Secure in real meaning, not "what if’s" of you. Because without that, Would I even be a good fit? Doubtful. I know you can't complete me; I'd be sad to even think, or try. But still... I wonder how it would feel, to sit across the table on a real date. To share nibbles and bites from the meals on our plates- reaching across- "do you want a taste?" Hand me a fork with a morsel on end; if I found it unpleasant, still, I'd pretend. "Ummm that's good!" Smile, and hand back your fork. Then look in the eyes of someone, who I trust is my friend. I guess I care. I wish I'd dare to fill you in on that truth. To not be so scared of these problems with youth. All being said, I'm left with attempts to let go. To just move on, and be content with the fact; These lessons play the long game. There's no instant glory, or spontaneous fleet, And victory comes when we're knocked off of our feet. So I've learned to take loss as a tally marked win. Poor judgement call? Maybe. I'll find out in the end. For now, Let's keep talking. I'll make prayerful pursuits. And hope He sees fit... To pair me with you.

0

Nov 23, 2018

Nov 23, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC

What If’s of You

And so... moreover- there came a time I thought we should talk But lessons in love, are the lessons it seems we're not told or taught. They're learned in time, and the pain does lose its sting, Well... that depends. I heard there was an interest; On her part, But that was quite some time ago. Shorty after, There was another interest. I still haven't met him face to face. But in that time I have truly met you. There's something about timing, How I can't get it right- Now I'm tired. Tired of dropping you off, Saying goodnight, while not being able to say, what's true on my mind. Tired of waiting for break ups. It probably won't happen and I'd be better off to just grow a pair. Honesty...? Well honestly- I have thought about us. I've thought about talking, That's when I get stuck. You don't bring him up. Why won't she tell me? Are you two in love? Last time... The only time- You said you were, "unsure." And I don't ever trust my interpretations. So, I hold on to hope. Hope that there's strain; A tension you face. Relational strife of the misguided type, The kind that you'll question- Is this relationship right? What a horrible hope. I know. It makes me a **** What a tragically sinful idolatry slip. But that's just me; always taking the throne. It's not bad I don't like being or feeling alone. Nor do I think it's good. I would rather be confident, trustworthy and true. Secure in real meaning, not "what if’s" of you. Because without that, Would I even be a good fit? Doubtful. I know you can't complete me; I'd be sad to even think, or try. But still... I wonder how it would feel, to sit across the table on a real date. To share nibbles and bites from the meals on our plates- reaching across- "do you want a taste?" Hand me a fork with a morsel on end; if I found it unpleasant, still, I'd pretend. "Ummm that's good!" Smile, and hand back your fork. Then look in the eyes of someone, who I trust is my friend. I guess I care. I wish I'd dare to fill you in on that truth. To not be so scared of these problems with youth. All being said, I'm left with attempts to let go. To just move on, and be content with the fact; These lessons play the long game. There's no instant glory, or spontaneous fleet, And victory comes when we're knocked off of our feet. So I've learned to take loss as a tally marked win. Poor judgement call? Maybe. I'll find out in the end. For now, Let's keep talking. I'll make prayerful pursuits. And hope He sees fit... To pair me with you.

92