IF YOU READ NONE OF MY OTHER
POETRY, PLEASE READ THIS!

Knock, knock - Who's there?
Is anybody home?
The lights are on, but you are gone...
It's silent as a tomb.

Knock, knock - Who's there?
Listen to the sound!
He waits for you! You know it's true!
But you are not around...

When Jesus is a'knocking
At your heart's fast door,
You appear to close your ears...
Do YOU know WHAT'S IN STORE?

We *DON'T all go to heaven...
YES! There is a hell!
You will find that you are blind
Believin' a tall tale!

I am a "good" person!
I'm helpful, and I give!
It's okay to be this way!
I live and let live....

NO!* Jesus lead the sinless life
And gave it up for *YOU!
Let Him in, He'll take your sin,
For He is kind and true!

There are NONE "good" people!
Folks! We're near the END!
Satan promotes his lies and gloats,
You'd best believe it, friend.

We ALL sin, and like as not
God CAN hold a grudge!
I don't know why we try and try
To say He doesn't judge!

This means YOU TOO, Believers!
You'd best have a care...
Be ye pure, or you'll endure
The same fate sinners share!

This is simply Bible.
God, the temple left!
Ezekiel. You know full well.
It was then BEREFT!!!

CHRISTIANS! Are you holy?
Have you sinned enuf?
He is God - He's not a CLOD!
He don't put up with GUFF!!!

Do I sound like I'm frightened?
You BET! I am afraid.
There is grace, but it's a race!
I may NOT make the grade!

We CAN blame the devil,
And that is just a shame...
He tempts us all, but please recall
REBUKE! In JESUS NAME!


Adam blamed the WOMAN.
Eve... she blamed the SNAKE...
Holy SMOKES! C'mon folks!
HOW MUCH CAN GOD TAKE???!!!


Knock, knock - Who's there?
Christ died that we may LIVE!
Open up and drink the cup!
Then He can FORGIVE!

If you don't, please hear me.
You'll believe a LIE.
You may well end up in hell...

So kiss your soul GOODBYE.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/12/2014


This poem is a spoken-word vidio
on YouTube...
https://youtu.be/PbD84Tuydxw

The topography of my mind
Maps the beach at changing tide.

From low to high it's all washed clean
Footprints, castles and trails alike
Unetched slate of flat leveled sand
Grains aligned by blessed wave strike.

From high to low it's all exposed
Fragments, jetsam, seaweed entwined
Littered, scattered on shore amuck
The sting of empty shells combined.

Yes, the topography of my mind
Maps the beach at changing tide
From low to high and high to low
A gloriously exhausting ride.

My persona would be red clay along the river shoreline .  My hair , the green grass infused field . My body is akin to tall Pines , Mountain Chestnut , awe inspiring Oak and Pecan Trees..
The salt of my physical being , the child of histories shed tears anchored within the very blood that flows through my circuitry .
Her waters are my soul revealed , Appalachia begat a grateful son of Georgia that seeks the shoreline .. Called across the surface of the sea to the waiting arms of my Creator .. Sky blue eyes on watch forever* .

Leave your slippers at the counter
said the watchman at the gate
an empty sack I put them in
entered temple on bare feet.

The walls were carved in fine granite
idols beamed in marbled shine
incense filled the ethereal light
breathing the air was purely divine.

After about a charmingly spelled hour
in lithe spirit I came out of temple door
presented the token at the shoes counter
poured the sack's content on the floor.

A strange pair mockingly looked back
not mine I shouted at the top of my voice
rows of sacks stared back from the rack
home barefoot wasn't a prospect to rejoice.

Obviously a wrong token was issued to me
the slippers therein belonged to someone else
and there I was arguing awkwardly
cursing high pitch over temple bells.

It took five minute's terror to find them out
so my feet could kiss the familiar smell
though not much something to write home about
those were the moments paradise felt hell.

i.

autumn’s leaves
scattered in pools,
a cloud of fine gold.

ivy scented skies
break free.

ii.

trees conjure dreams,
flow like a night breeze.

iii.

the sun is remote,
the fires of a wild sea,
damask shores
where we sink
to the floor....

iv.

sink further,
where quiet walls and skies
pierce our yearnings,
uncover a naked flame.

He's lying in a pool of blood , the struggle is over ! The Oscar most certainly goes to him , the strongest man amongst us ! Our self professed leader called home , suicide by revolver , a noble warrior to the end ! Our battered , broken King . Victim of the minds many afflictions , pawn to several addictions ! A Father , grandfather and a brother with a good ear for his children , with many maps to guide us through turbulent waters ! Laid to rest among the other male thespians in our inner circle , four more slaves to the gun !

If you are in love
And you must go out the door
I have some advice
That I have learned
From yore

Break your lady gently
for though she is made
from the strongest of glass
She can still shatter
Into shards
Upon the silken grass
And it will take ages
To find those thin, tiny slivers
To glue them together,
An almost impossible task
As your hands
Shake and shiver

Break your lady gently
But slice not too deep
For she is still yours,
Even if not to keep
She might rise up
Again
In your heart
And make it bloom
She will still
Calm your soul
And your every wound
And so, fair Lord,
Only if you
absolutely must
Break her down gently
But alas---
keep her trust

Something I would tell you son
that's only known to me
a burden it is knowing alone
it's time I share with thee.

Shocking was what he revealed to me
tragic too was the tale
of a woman's loss of dignity
her passing thru fire of hell.

Her I have held in high esteem
her sanctity locked in trust
never knew she was a sad victim
of a man's monstrous lust.

My father felt it would only be fair
it needed him just to be brave
with son the secret he must share
not carry alone to the grave.

I hold it now that grave secret
father left his job was done
burdened with a heavy weight
that I can't share with son.

The woman she is still alive
knocking on ninety's door
her skin a shade of dried beehive
she remembers not anymore.