O Lord, do not be angry with me,
Nor turn away from me.
Have mercy on me, O God for I am depressed;
O Lord, heal me for my legs are tense.
My soul is in such pain that my body can not bare it.
How long will this last O Lord?!

O God, deliver me! Save me so that You Name will be praised.
How sad it would be if I killed myself?!

I am paralyzed by my stress;
My head aches; my arms cramp.

Get the Hell out of here my enemies!
For the God of the universe is on my side.
The Lord has heard my cries; His ear is turned toward me.
The Lord will receive my prayer,
So, just wait, my demons will be destroyed;
And my heart made glad;
For I will proclaim to the Earth
“Our God is an awesome God!”

rain or shine
i shan’t not decline
the desire to ride
nor indoors abide

They run and run and run
It seems, with little time to feel the sun
And yet, what they have begun
Is something that can easily be undone.

Dodging the trees here and there
They run through this thick and heavy air.
An end to this overgrown forest do they give silent prayer
But little do they know that they’re on the path to despair.

They hide from the sun’s bright
For they know not of its delight,
And instead they run to the darkness on the right
Thinking they will find some light.

However, their path is crooked and steep
As they run through the forest deep.
They are like lost sheep
Not realizing they need to awake from their sleep.

They see others running passed the trees
Dodging them with ease.
They wonder what makes the others so pleased
To be running through this breeze.

The others also fall down,
But they get back up and help those around.
While they run through darkness abound,
The others run through bright clearings round.

Soon my legs will fail
Under this pressure
If this wound is not
Cared for
I am tempted to
Dive into traffic to
Escape

and the light of the
empty parking
garage

casts shadows of
delirious days
before
me

thank God
there is light to
see the shadows

We were surely made to need each other.
To mentally crave company.
We were made to love each other,
To talk to somebody.

We can not do this alone.
Or we will go insane.
We can't just not be known,
And think we can ourselves sustain.

We were made to trade words,
To be with somebody.
To sing like birds.
And to accompany.

We were surely made to share our lives.
We were surely made to live our lives

Together.

Someday
I'll be with someone else
Who I'll love more
Than I ever loved you
More than I ever dreamed of loving you

Someday
You will find someone
Who will love you more
Than I ever did
More than I ever dreamed of

Someday
Your memories of me
Will be like those of high school
There, but nowhere near the front
I'm just the guy who loved you in and after college.

Someday
My pain will go away
And I'll have new prayers to pray
You won't be on my mind,
You'll be hard to find
You'll no longer be inside

But right now it hurts
Like a splinter I can not pull out
And right now it is here
Like my reflection in a lake
I've seen before

Someday
You'll be nothing but
Small smiles

I can not cry enough years full of tears
To make that day come sooner,
But I can put paint on walls all night
And pray to God all day

And hope that something will change
That I'll be able to say
More than "Goodbye" to you
someday

Someday I'll have my own drum set,
Someday I'll have my own djembe.
But for now, I shouldn't forget,
That I don't necessarily need drums to play.
My own two hands are all I need,
And maybe some legs, a chest, or table,
'Cause all you require is a seed
A seed of God's joy to make you grateful.
It's the Lord I should delight in.
Not the things I lack,
Who needs drums
When I can snap, clap and tap?
Someday I'll have my own "man cave"
Someday I'll have drums galore.
But today I have the Lord who saves!
Today I can praise Him with what I got once more.

The **** of a snowball
The oops right before the almost-fall
The crunch of boots

These are sounds that I'd like to make
These are the memories that I used to take
But wearing this straight jacket has made me loose

Downtrodden
Emotions
Prevent seeing the
Reason for
Existing;
Satisfaction and
Success are
Irrelevant amongst feelings
Of
Numbness.

I wonder how
And when
And why
I will die.

I think,
after reading my work,
The best compliment I could receive
Would be the kind without words;
The kind where, as you finish reading the last word,
You slowly close your eyes and smile.
Nothing more.

I sit and eat my sandwich
Under a tree shading me from the sun.
A few pass me by on the path less traveled
Yet a path more beautiful

A fly wants my sandwich and my water
And I wave my hand and send him off.
But he persists.
Finally I give him a piece of lettuce and then a piece of *******.
He absolutely loves it, walking all over and ******* the water.

He thanks me as he crawls on my arm.
And goes back for another bite.

I write this poem and he looks on from my had,
As if rejoicing in the fact that he is noticed.
He circles and walks around, watching me write.

He thanks me again and takes flight.

We turn the corner as we walk to our rooms,
When we see a figure at the end of the hall.
We think that they will turn to the stairs soon,
But we find that this isn't true at all.
The closer we become, the more awkward it gets.
We try to play it cool and look at our phones,
Knowing full well, we don't have no texts.
We think "It'd be better if I weren't alone."
When all of a sudden, as we walk even closer,
We remember the fountain; a savior at last!
Now we can end this jousting match with this poser.
And just act like we're thirsty real fast.
"I'll just drink here and wait for them to pass.
While in the small hallway, they have to walk around my ***."

yeah, well my heart doesn't know ****
it's so naive, blind and oblivious to these hits.
I've gotta admit
that inside me my heart does not fit.

it's rejecting this mind
and overproducing thoughts of her kind
it doesn't know how to unwind
and exit through my behind

it's here to stay
and I'm here to say
if one of us strays
this will be my last day

We don't know what say the clock,
For we are too busy, we are alone.
We know not where we walk
'Till we look up from our phones.

How, then, are we to see where our lives are headed?
How, then, are we to see that we are embedded?

What I saw; it's not as I once knew.
What I practiced; it's not how I once grew.
I stood as a growing, but bending tree.
Only to be awakened by a strange and different breeze.

I go now to plant my roots elsewhere,
I go now in search of a different air.
My fellow trees, I hope, will still be within reach,
That our branches' bonds will not grow weak.

I pray that He leads me with His staff,
That I will listen to His will for me.
I hope that I will not be like the chaff,
But instead, by streams of a new water, be like the tree.

I take life for granted way too often.
So much detail that now overflows
This one moment. It doth softens
My longing heart to now propose;

I will notice the unnoticed:
That which I see everyday,
That which I know is closest
To the great mundane.

The water
Moves like
Silk upon
An unmade bed,
Which held
A couple in love
The night before.

The water
Shines like
Blue gold,
Worn by
A recently crowned
Queen.

The water
Sings like
The last
Performance
Of an
Under-appreciated
Musician at the
Bar down
The road.

Outside the windows I see
Some powerful force
That moves the tall trees
And through it the birds fly their course.

Although we can not see the wind
We can feel it around us
Although we sing beautiful hymns,
We can not fully describe this.

The wind moves us like nothing else,
The Holy Spirit moves us like nothing else.

On top of Mt. Bonnell this morning,
Before the sun arose
I watched the red lights of warning
Atop the tall metal poles.

As if playing music together
Each gave bursts of light,
Through the foggy weather,
And played a visual song at night.

They all appear to blink
At the same rate as the next,
But as I took a drink
I saw that it was more complex.

Each with different tempos
The poles played along
And with subtle crescendos,
They blink their song.

air turns to water
and dirt turns to mud
as my feet walk along the broken floor
I turn my eyes downward

my mouth opens to speak
but only a broken cough is let out
words I can not form
to give justice to this pain of letting go

the rain slows
and the clouds shatter in the sun
my eyes blinded by the sound of light
and I for once find the words to say

with eyes closed and heart beating
the tear, my friend the tear,
sheds from my eye
and is with me as I say

what my God wants to hear
that which I cry out
with a broken voice
my heart whispers what I say

this that the canyon echoes
the sad sound of my beauty
which waits to be released
so that I can say

You are my God!
You love me!
You are with me always!
You are always yearning for my heart!
You are my protector!

and though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil
for You are with me oh my God!

The air runs through the pipe.
It goes about its way
and flows around turns;
turns controlled by valves.
The air is comfortable,
it is safe.

Through the pipe
the air flows past cracks, letting in light.
The air wants to explore this light outside,
but it stays in the comfortable pipe.

The air feels a dead end coming.
It reaches a valve, closing off the
pipe.
Pressure builds and tensions rise.
It only hopes the valve will open.

Suddenly the valve turns and the air is released.
The air is free.
It expands and wonders.

However, it soon misses the pipe
and looks for another,
only to find that there is none to be seen.

It needs containment.
It needs certainty.
It is cold.
It is lost in the darkness.

Suddenly, the air feels something,
something warm and beautiful beyond description.

It is light.
This same light which it saw in its pipe.
This light is so warm and calming.
It fills the air with joy and comfort.

Every one of its molecules vibrates and comes to life.
The air feels itself being carefully molded by the bright light
into a shape so beautiful: a perfect, geometrical sphere.

It is the shape it was originally intended to form,
but could not do so within the pipe.

Captivated by the beautiful light,
the air is brought to steam and feels inside it
this wondrous realization:

This light,
which it ignored in the pipes,
gives the air its true purpose,
which the pipe never could.

This light,
which was looking for it all along,
finally has connected with the air it loves.

This light,
which saved it from the darkness,
turns the air’s search for containment,
into a search for expansiveness and spontaneity,
into a search for a way to please the light.

This light,
which wants to it shine,
compels the air to free other bodies of air,
trapped in their pipes.

What song will be sung today?
Only God knows.
Will it be exciting and filled with energy,
Or will it be soft as the wind making the trees blow?

I pray that I will sing it for Him,
To give Him all the Glory.
I pray that I will not perform for them,
But will instead live His intended story.

Beautiful poetry from everyday poets
Beautiful music from professionals
Beautiful sunlight against swaying leaves
Beautiful movement outside the window
Beautiful simplicity in the dried leaf in my journal
Beautiful smiles from the bar tender

Beautiful time in the waiting,
waiting for eyes to look upon beauty with me.

So often at this time of year we hear
What some never have the chance to say.
"If I only had that grade, then life would be clear"
And we forget that many could only dream of that day.

They dream of the day they could go to school
While we whine about our 89.999999's
They pray for the money to become a jewel
While we whine about our lack of Bevo bucks for Starbucks.

"Please Lord! If I could only get an A." I just heard
From the girl to my right, talking to her friend.
Which makes me wonder what I'd prefer;
To whine over what I don't have, or to rejoice in what's far more important in the end.

She says "I wish I had an A."
While I am no better, "I wish I was passing."
While the little boy says "I wish I could get a career someday."
Which brings my mind crashing.

Children joyfully play off in the distance
While birds sing their songs all around.
They know no resistance
To the beauty of nature. And so they make sound.

The children, the birds,
They have no concerns.
They know not of how this world is absurd.
It's true; what Wordsworth wants us to learn.

That something as simple and precious as this moth,
Does not receive the attention due to its worth
That we feel too "busy" to be one with the wild
Too busy to live like a child.

We're told we will live forever.
     I am like the moth in a way.
          This moth is slowly dying and will soon fade.
But our lives are short however.
     For we both are in constant decay.
          And so we admire each other, both as moths, together dying in the shade.

title then poem.
begin

fists clinched
my thumb hurts
my leg needs to be stretched
oh and I should throw this away

what is she doing?
does she know my hurt
my pain
my death inside?

I thought I told her!
she wants to see things casual
she wants to see things easy
well as long as I am this way
you have to deal with it

I slouch
I sit up
tension I can not get rid of

My eyes wonder to the outside
to avoid her
when the hell?
hell will I let go?
what must I do?

my thumb has been hurting
why I don't know
It shakes too
but I don't know

I thought I told her.
why must I see her this often?
it is as if she is ignoring it
she wants things back to "normal"
she wants things casual
casual, ha

she eats her sandwich and laughs
as if nothing has happened

she looks to my eyes for a smile
for any sign of change,
of letting go

the other one sits quietly
I wonder how much she knows
I wonder if she cares
at least she and I are comfortable with each other
thank God she is there
I can not think of the torture that
would be if it were just the first and I

I look to the cars
which could easily **** me
if I took but one "wrong" step

what words can I shout to
describe the pain that I inflict
upon myself?
why do I harm myself?
why do I hold on to that which is killing me?

you would think it would be easy to
pick off a leach from your lower leg
instead of watching it get bigger and bigger
what is it doing for me?

this is a parasitic relationship
not a mutual benefiting one
I need baking soda or something
I think I have some in the kitchen

if not a leach that I can take off, albeit painful
some of this must be on me
not thirty minutes can I go without getting distracted
it's never been like this

I can't wait to see if it gets worse.
that will be fun lol
I just can't wait

"I sing because You are good
because You are good to me."
ok fine

I said I would be more thankful
and I am, but I am impatient

I go to beer to escape that which is inescapable
and then regret it
and then regret ever meeting her
and then regret that I regret
will I even graduate?

this poem is useless
I don't know the first thing about myself

at least God knows me better than I do
better than I will ever know

at least He is on my side
He will help me.
won't He?

the two of us sit silently
she sits motionless in front of her iPad
we arrived to class early
I sit motionless and sad

who do you love?
what is your passion?
do you know God above?
what is your satisfaction?

her hair flows down her shoulder
like mist upon hills
her eyes fixed upon the lights before her
like one would take their daily pills.

more people come in one by one
but she remains there
like the morning sun
and the two of us sit here
silently taking our pills

Stress
Relief
Fun
Sorrow
Exhaustion
Hope

Flowers fade
And my world shakes
No attention is paid
To these high stakes

You try to make me see
The height to which I’ve climbed,
To make me afraid of being free
And to forever rid me blind.

But I’ve got somethin’ for ya;
You ain’t got nothin on me!
This height is