I am a walking oxymoron
I am a contradiction
I consider myself a realist
but crave the taste of fiction

I am a both sides of an argument;
much like the true colors of freedom
I bristle at words of affirmation
because I hate that I need them

Oh, wretched heel!
Oh, bane of life!
Cease to inflict your funereal strife!
What must it take?
Would I be healed,
Should my dichotomies be revealed?

I am a fire upon the sea
I am a grand confliction
I write as if I have no inhibitions,  
but it seems that words are an addiction

i hear the whippoorwill in the night-
it seems we have a common trait:
our voices, strongest in the dark,
with no specific audience,
echo across the fabric of time
to reach the ear unseen.
should no other creature hear our songs
that cross the face of night like rivers
it would seem to matter little;
we are our own listeners.

once
i was a little child
full of optimistic wonder

then
i fell into an ocean
and its current swept me under

down
i sank, as it engulfed me
the sun-streaked surface, a shadow became

then
my heart slowed down its beating
and in the dark, I felt a Name

once
the feeling overcame me
i knew i must discern its source

     i called the Name with final breath
     and yielded myself to its force

Death
swirled up and all around me
and tight in her arms, i was held

down
i sank, as she engulfed me
once-flickering hope, in an instant, quelled

          and I died.
          and I died.

FLASH
with sudden blinding brightness
a force grabbed me from death’s shroudings

up
i rose, in swift ascension
and the speed was overwhelming

then
my soul recalled the feeling
and i felt the Name once more

when
at last, i stopped ascending
the Name is all that I longed for

so
i followed with the masses
i chased the paths of those ahead

soon
the masses ceased to wander;
i followed where their gazes led

          then
          i was a little child
          full of optimistic wonder

          and
          i finally knelt before
          the Name of Love my heart was after

Dripping black
A sea of thorns,
Or a sea of thrones?
I wasn't sure

Seated heads
That glistened gold
With blood
Of sacrifice impure

A Shadow leapt
To take its place
Behind a Silhouette
Obscure

A battle scene;
I knew at once
Which side
I would be fighting for

Clash of sword,
Screech of steel;
Thick ran the blood
Of fallen man

Then all at once,
An empty field;
I stood alone
With sword in hand

The earth took shape
A Thing appeared
The Silhouette
Formed from the sand

The Shadow leapt
To take its place
And cast its spell
Over the land

I raised my sword;
Three times I swung,
And at last blow,
The Shadow fled

The Silhouette
Remained in place,
But now
His sand was burning red

A Mighty Voice cried,
"It is done!"
The Silhouette
At once fell dead

Then all around
Rose from the ground
Each fallen man,
Jeweled crown on head

     The Mighty Voice
     Spoke once again:
     "Well done, beloved one,"
     Said He

     Into His arms
     He drew me, tight
     And we were wed
     For eternity

     A feast was held
     In angel courts
     We rejoiced
     In our final matrimony

     He clothed me
     In the brightest white;
     Evermore
     I am deeply, truly free

My flesh, it aches; it burns
My calloused bare feet are scorched by the rugged earth
I am wandering and I don't know where

My eyesight is fading and darkness seems to fall around me
Though my burning skin acknowledges the sun's unrelenting brutality
I am wandering and I don't know where

My dry, cracked hands are like the deserts around me
Open, extended; begging for even the smallest raindrop
Anything to ease the sting
As I wander and don't know where

Beneath the burden of unbearable thirst,
My parched throat cannot utter a cry
But cries would surely be in vain
As I wander and don't know where

Vivid memories, enhanced by my arid surroundings
Recall legends of a fountain said to quench all thirst forevermore
In my hallucinations it is there before me
It whispers thoughts of peace to me
And beckons me near
While I wander this unknown land

With all measure of strength left in my bones
I run towards the oasis before me,
Content to collapse and free my spirit into its mystic waters
No longer to wander where I do not know

But as I draw closer to the shimmering mirage,
It becomes real
It becomes tangible
And I dive in

When I surface, one like a man robed in shining white
With eyes of fire and crowned with light
Breathes on me and I can hear the words
Those words of such peace and power;
Now I see,
They are the words
The very words
That I had long been wandering for

Take my hand
Hold it tight
Tell me
Things will be alright
I am scared
You were right
These things
Always were in sight

Future comes
Quick as day
Soon this view
Will fade away
I'll be alone
My price to pay
Far from home
Nothing to say

Cost of breath
Weight of soul
A world beyond
My own control
A once clear mind
Too quickly full
Shining moments
Rendered dull

Take my hand
Guide me through
Help me learn
What to do
My growing up
Is overdue
I pray I'll be
As brave as you

I recall from some time ago
a pink plastic tea set
a white plastic rocking chair
and a yellow plastic pony
with blue plastic hair,
     which
was impossible to untangle
except for with the green plastic brush
that belonged to my blonde barbie doll
out of her plastic vanity cabinet
beneath her plastic vanity mirror,
     which
she checked her makeup in
before meeting her plastic boyfriend
in his plastic van
to go to a plastic diner
that served plastic pizza,
     which
was really just a sticker
on a tiny plastic plate
that would get lost in the bottom
of my plastic toybox,
     which
had a plastic lid
that was also my sailboat
that brought me to a plastic castle
with a plastic princess
who had the prettiest plastic eyes
and the most elaborate plastic dress
and the shiniest plastic crown,
     which
was the envy of all the plastic women
in the entire plastic kingdom,
     which
was really just a plastic castle
surrounded by an enchanted plastic forest
filled with furry plastic creatures
all atop a clear plastic box,
     which
held the plastic dishes
and plastic glasses
and plastic food
in case a feast should be thrown
for an unexpected plastic guest
from a plastic kingdom in the far east,
     which
was really just a plastic plate
placed on the plastic-coated windowsill,
     from which
I would peer into the blue sky
through broken plastic binoculars
while standing on a yellow and green plastic step stool,
     which
when turned upside down
became not simply a make-shift plastic sailboat,
but a glorious, luxury plastic cruise liner
for my pretty plastic dolls

     and I would board my toybox lid
     and we would sail into a perfect plastic horizon

     which
was really just a white plastic baby gate
that kept me from tumbling
into the world downstairs
where things are wooden
and glass
and cloth
but not plastic

for plastic is synthetic
and plastic is superficial
and plastic looks bad
against gilded wallpaper

but plastic is cheaper
and plastic is safer
and plastic is durable
and childhood is plastic

Give to the ears
of he who will listen
a rhythm
that beats with My heart.

Give to the eyes
of he who will see
a vision
that expresses My love.

Give to the mind
of he who will think
wisdom
to know I am just.

Give to the tongue
of he who will speak
words
to declare what I've done.

Give to the hands
of he who will work
strength
to build My home.

Give to the feet
of he who will stand
courage
to stand alone.

Give to the arms
of those who will comfort
compassion
to show towards all.

Give to the spirit
of all the believers
faith
to keep them strong.

Doubt not, I am coming;
I am coming soon.
Believe,
and prepare the way,

For there is great reward
for those who'll
listen
and obey.