Seeing men like trees, walking.
Finally, the vision is clear,
And a battle is raging.
Masses of people
Adding the chaos
Of their own worlds
To global turmoil.
A television blares out
News of impeding war
Yet among so many faces
There appears not a care
Few have seen what is to come
When this created globe
Shall descend into judgement
Many blindly follow
As desperation strikes
While others groan
With untold sufferings
Now comes the cry
For His kingdom to come
To establish righteousness and peace
Forevermore.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Once the haze of ashen smoke has cleared
And clarity is restored
A heavy cloud descends again
And rests among the leaves.
Eyes once bright with life
Are now so heavily veiled
Bringing on a willful silence
As the darkness of past condemnation
Engulfs every side.
It is a desperate flight
To escape the light
For fear it would shine too bright
And expose every shameful blemish
Not realizing its power
To bring salvation and healing
That no other source could provide.
A plea to cease the endless wondering
And aimless flight from the past
To seek the one true Light
And see His kingdom come to pass.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
That which generations have sought after
Yet by no means can be found.
The very foundations of earth echo with hollow laughter.
Chills creep up my spine with every clashing sound
that reverberates high above each rafter.
No one else is worthy
The King of peace to be crowned.
Within the hearts of men
Darkness boils deep inside
As inky wells in a cavernous den
Where countless souls have died.
So finite is their time that ends in hellish glen.
No calm there is, nor will be
Until He can there abide.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
The name is that which can no longer be applied
For the subject has changed a thousand times over
Disintegrated backbone that cannot offer anymore support
Than a crumbling pillar
That brings the ceiling crashing down
And destroys the protected world
Leaving bloodless eyes staring upwards at an empty sky
Words on paper, nothing more
These words can be forgotten
Or never understood. So they must be as sharp knives,
piercing through thick gristle, scarring deep beneath the skin
Lest they be counted among trivialities
In the moments of the future.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
There is no balance
Everything seems to fall apart,
Resentment rears up,
and pain becomes a desire
hate against the incompetence,
the imperfection that dwells within.
Lost inside a world of hopelessness
Shattered dreams
Broken promises,
Self denigration
Alone
I don't know why I go on
in this decremental way
leading to nowhere
And so the blackness must recede
And let the light come again once more
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 10:34 PM UTC
A strange fire has been ignited
In the midst of the lonely forest.
In burns softly
At the risk of being unrequited.
The wind must not blow
Lest that fire
Burn the forest down.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 11:22 AM UTC
I only wish I had a better memory...
Everything just became too monotonous, even with the light glittering on the surface of the water, casting thousands of facets across the pool deck like shattered glass.
So I went out for a bike ride.
All was quiet and seemed to sleep in the sweeping hand of the warm breeze that traveled all the way from the beach, and I can smell the faintest smell of the ocean waves, in the midst of all the jumbled pollutions and crashing smoke of smokestacks and exhaust pipes.
Then I saw.
On the side of the road there was a small black rag, that was not a rag, but a tangled mess of feathers twisted into a grotesque shape like the claws of death. Little threads of raw life all dried up seeping through shining fibers that had lost their sheen, turned into dull blackness, like strings of tar forgotten on the roadside.
So it goes.
And I rode on, into a large expanse of concrete, dotted at intervals down the center with trees covered in purple blossoms, standing out boldly against the dark grayness and stark white lines. A silver car was parked lazily in the shade of a purple tree, with sunlight shining off its streamlined hide. The shiny metal surface was being whisked to even greater heights of polished perfection by a rainbow colored duster, its wispy hairs blown sweeping gently across the Civic as the small lady in the purple shirt that matched the trees dusted busily. With her trimly cut black dress pants and pointy shoes, she moved quickly, half of her face hidden in a pair of expansive brown sunglasses that perched on her nose. What she was doing, no one knows.
Will no one remember?
I will time travel.
Now I am gone, and her existence still is, and was, and will be until it is gone. So will the sorry little rag of feathers by the side of life's unknown road, and the policeman parked across the lot, eating a donut.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
Walking around in the rain.
The veil is lifted.
Blindness ripped away
The colors wash through
Black, white, yellow and blue
There is no more any can do
To end all the hate
All this pain
All these tears
No one is different
The individual disappears
They are them
We are us
But we are better than them
They live their lives
We live ours
We have nothing in common
No, not one
Our goal is the top
We know we are there
Superior in every way
Destroy the others
They have no right to live
Because we are superior
That is the way it has always been
What would happen
If we were color blind
It would still continue
Never to stop
Stereotypes everywhere
Classification of the way they live
Under the microscope
Struggling to survive
History takes its course
And no one cares
Unstoppable force
Of hatred
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
A sense of utter loss within,
ignoring the world outside that of the mind,
Wandering in the paths of insanity
Blasting thoughts, and a rising, formless desire
to be lost in the darkness all around,
yet still sensing the borders
that are immersed in a sludge of sin
All goes on within the invisible world
hidden from any earthly eyes.
Unimaginable to all but one,
yet receiving glimpses of similarity
that strike the uniqueness back from reality.
Giving form to words,
images that could never be painted
but are forgotten instantaneously.
The vastness that might only be
the result of a chemical imbalance.
Such that these words become aimless,
mindless wanderings
devoid of any meaning to the universe.
It is but one fools perspective that
the discourse is one of wisdom,
that it is unique
And yet still, the self-importance clings
and the lines of discernment
become inevitably blurred.
The fabric is torn and marred,
trampled under the hooves of cattle
down below, where the dust is pounded
into miniature swirling clouds,
and the grass roots are torn up
to be left flapping helplessly
in the screaming winds of commotion.
There is a lack of conviction
in every word that is spoken
as if the bubble of thoughts
has become disconnected from the machinery
and floated into boundless space.
Once the fuel has flown,
the unworthy tongue sets in,
drawing from the toxic piles of sundry
that lie skewed asunder
destined to be burned,
though they still exist
to create thick curdling smoke
that chokes out any form of life
and causes the filth of hypocrisy
to flow forth in abundance.
Sinking into the mire,
the narrow way shrinks to the eye of a needle
And all hope seems lost.
This is deprecation.
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 6:16 PM UTC
Inspiration from a fellow writer
And a chance at contemplation on a peaceful Saturday afternoon
Have led to a quest for forgotten moments
And thoughts of pleasant abstractions.
A hint at appreciative visuals
Carries the thought to a fig tree
Growing majestically in its place in its earthen patch.
Words fail to describe the abundance of life that exists
As sparrows flit through branches heavily laden with fruit
While the wind gently rustles leaves shaped like green hands outstretched,
Casting gentle shadows on a silently bustling anthill.
A hummingbird zooms in to smell a fruit,
Squeaks twice, and exits with the soft thrum of its wings.
A lizard skitters through the jungle of grass and snaps up a mouthful of ants
Bringing chaos to the ant kingdom.
Yet tranquility is soon restored to the fig tree soaking in the solar rays,
And the tomato quietly ripening under a cloudless sky.
Under that same sky, countless battles rage
And boiling chaos tears at its leash.
All of creation groans with pain of labor
As the fallen dig deeper in their graves
And are consumed by beastly desires.
In a forest, countless leaves gently whisper their sorrows
As warm light dances through the shadows.
The surface of a pond, as smooth as glass
Is only momentarily broken by ripples of activity
While the beholder stares deeply into the reflection.
Below the surface, ghoulish beings lurk in the mire
While deeper still, the mud of hypocrisy churns wildly
As the unworthy tongues set in and will clash in unfathomable violence.
There is something desperately wrong
Yet churlish scoffers ignore the signs
Blinded in selfishness and greed.
Again and again they play games of chess
Where all the pieces are pawns
Replaced with fake queens
While the kings of value are forgotten
Set aside until they are shot to pieces.
Yet all this is hidden, beneath the surface of impeccable glass
As devilish turmoil roars beneath the skins of men.
There is but one hope for a life of meaning
In which true peace can be restored.
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC