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 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
There is a ladder that I climb
And climb I shall through all of time
The wood is rough and splintery
And so the task is hard, you see
And as I climb my arms grow weak
My bones, like the rungs, bend and creak
Sometimes resolve abandons me
My head goes down and I can't see
When climbing in this careless way
I lose my hold and slip away
So, quickly I fall ten feet down
I tell myself to not look down
I grab hold of the rung again
Then meditate and rest my chin
The rung has now a coat of slime
It feels I'll slip another time
I push the thought out of my head
For if I fall, then I'll be dead
I wipe away the dreadful slime
And climb again, step at a time
And though the top I'll never see,
I keep my gaze ahead of me.

"Why do you climb", a man once asked
"...If you cannot complete the task?"
"There are two worlds", I said to him
"...And one of them is filled with sin
Within that world, you'll find no light
Your soul is bound by fear and spite
In the other, you can see
Your heart's made whole and you are free
The line between these worlds is broad
That is the world on which we trod

But even here amidst our strife
You'll find there are two sides of life
We start between and go one way
By choices we make every day
This road we take is gradual
We slowly fall as blinded fools
Unless we climb the other way
And so please hear these things I say

As I climb, the light gets brighter
And the load on me becomes much lighter
The truth's revealed and my heart made full
As I climb away from sin's dark rule

So, where's this ladder that I climb?
He's here; take hold. He's yours and mine"
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #10. Please see the collection page itself.

The final original poem in the Emerge project set, "The Ladder" brought my own poem contribution to Emerge to a close, wrapping up my part in the theme with an open invitation to the reader to follow the God of my own lessons learned--The Father of Jesus Christ--Yahweh!

The Ladder was my most popular poem in my Emerge collection among my friends and family, and I feel it's one of my most favored and respected/appreciated poems I've ever written, even to this day. It's one people I know still bring up when my poetry is in conversation. Perhaps childishly, I think this bittered me towards it a bit. I love this poem, and it was certainly lead by The Spirit, and I hope it will have an impact in the world. But were other poems in the set that have deeper personal significance and treasured value for me, that I guess others will never be able, by no fault of their own, to appreciate.

At the time, TL was the longest poem I had ever written, and I believe it was actually the last one I wrote for Emerge.

The word "rung" all throughout the poem was originally "bar". I didn't know what they were called! :P

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poems, but I ask that you show courtesy. Please be honest about the authorship by attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
It stands outside my window
It knocks upon my door
To it, I say "I will not go
You do not own me anymore"
It then casts back a wicked grin
And with a voice too foul and vile
It says to me "We'll meet again
And I'll be waiting all the while"
It turns away and leaves me be
And though it will return one day
Sin never shall have victory
Because to God, for strength, I pray
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #9. Please see the collection page itself.

In the heart and spirit of "The Living Fire" and "Snare", I wrote "Unwelcome Visitor" in prayerful inspiration, but in more of a quick burst than the others. I believe I wrote it the same night as "Snare".

It's a reminder that though sin and temptation always crouch at the door, calling us back, God gives us the strength we need; let's keep our eyes on Him. Because despite the fact that we fell, and at times even may still stumble, God carries us by the hand. And that lion crouching at the door, waiting to devour us? Well, God's already crushed it, shackled its feet, and bound in it chains. You have freedom through Jesus Christ. Believe it. And should you stumble, pick up, accept God's grace which is more than your own, and move on, move forward in Him. Our victory awaits ahead, in Heaven, where our Advocate sits seated at God's right Hand. Amen.

I revisited "Unwelcome Visitor" in 2012, expanding it and tweaking it as I converted it into the form of a song. It's the most progress I've ever achieved on a song I've written, and it was done for a school project in my guitar class. I wrote (with some help from a friend on chord choice & arrangement) and recorded it with vocals, chords, a melody, and some extra effects. Unfortunately, the compiled recording file got corrupted and is lost forever. But I'd love to make and finish it in recorded form.
The expanded song lyric version is probably about 6-7 times the length of the poem in this original form.

I liked UWV so much, I even started writing a supernatural thriller novel based on it (but I've had some writer's block), and have had thorough ideas for a music video for the song version.

Like many of my other poems and writings, Unwelcome Visitor is a gift from God.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy by being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
I'm here again?
How can it be?
What is this fiend inside of me?
Is there a more malicious place
Than that for which my heart makes space?
What is the cause
For all I've done?
O, from myself where can I run?
I'm trapped inside a wretched cave
Now, as I watch, the last light fades

Can I escape?
Is there a way
To best my own internal fray?
Who could forgive that which I am?
But You, the One they call the Lamb?

I feel it deep
I truly know
Clear is the way that I must go

A flame proceeds to light the way
Its heat dries all my tears away

To you I run
You are my fire
And only you do I desire

I once was pierced by sin's cold knife
You've saved my soul; I have new life
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #8. Please see the collection page itself.

"The Living Fire" was at once one of my favorite poems I had ever written. It was of the first that I knew and could feel undeniably that The Holy Spirit was involved in my writing it, leading its construction fluidly as it poured out from my soul. I had never experienced that before, and it sparked a love for poetry in me, in contrast with my previous disposition towards it. TLF is deeply personal for me and its birth was a significant moment in my life. I still remember the night.
I wrote it after a repentant prayer, pleading to God for forgiveness, help, and freedom from an addiction to ****. I felt his all-encompassing Love consume me in a way that lit my path for a forward journey in forgiveness and grace, as I learned what it is to be a child of God, walking in freedom and not being restrained by shame that comes not from him but from the enemy.

Like "Snare" and "Unwelcome Visitor", I later revisited this special landmark, applying a vocal melody and tweaking it some to be better suited as song lyrics.

If I remember correctly, "The Living Fire" predates "Snare" by hours, or less. I think I wrote them on the same night, or at most, consecutive nights.

Line 10 originally said, "the last beams fade", but I thought it was too unclear that I was referring to beams of light, and could not fit both of those key words into the proper # of syllables, so changed it ultimately to its current form.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy by being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
Good job!
You went to church for Grama on Sunday

...And you texted the whole service

Good job!
You helped out and watched your siblings

...And showed them R-rated movies

Good job!
You wore a Bible verse T-shirt to school

...After buying it with stolen cash

Good job!
You got a purity cross necklace to wear

...Then "hooked up" that same night

Good job!
You got a brand new Bible

...And stored it under your bed with the rest of your " junk"

Good job!
You visited your church's website

...And bookmarked it right beneath *******

Good job!
You went to that Bible-study group

...And afterward, to a party

Good job!
You turned down a smoke while you were there

...'Cause at the time you were just thirsty

Good job!
You prayed at the dinner table

...To get your turn over with for the week

Good job!
You call out to God before falling asleep

...To blame Him for your problems

Good job!
You plan on going to church again tomorrow

Just don't forget your cell-phone

Good job, Christian
Keep it up.
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #7. Please see the collection page itself.

This poem is one I've never felt quite satisfied with, yet it's a concept I want to address in this same basic form. Now that my poetry and mind has matured more, I may re-write this as a new poem addressing the issue I intended to in this one, in an improved, or heavier, more emotional, or more clear way. I'm not sure.
Line 18 originally said "under *******", but I thought that could come across as the bookmark bearing that name, rather than the new bookmark being beneath it in the least, to signify lesser priority as added weight to the hypocrisy.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy by being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
Hello, my friend.
...Why think like that?
Now, be assured,
I'm not that bad
There's nothing wrong with having fun
Though, once you do, you cannot run
...Did I forget to mention that?
Oh, well, too late
Guess that's too bad

Ah, from the start, it felt so good
But you were trapped there where you stood
You played the game
Now you are mine
I have to thank you for your time

Another down
A point for me!
Who will play next?
I guess we'll see
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #6.

Snare was and remains one of my favorite poems I have ever written.
It was the first truly deeply personal poem I'd ever written, and of the first I truly enjoyed writing or was genuinely inspired to write--of the first I was lead to write by The Holy Spirit.
At least 2 or 3 years after its original creation, I vastly expanded Snare into a song complete with vocal melody accompanying a full and elaborate lyric. While existing mostly in voice recording form, written text, or simply in my head, I also have had many different ideas for instrumental parts, effects, a music video, an album cover, and more, if it were ever to reach that point of being completely produced in the form in which I envision its true fulfillment. The song version is one of my favorite songs I have ever written, and quite possibly in fact my #1 favorite. It is also, by far, the longest song I have ever written with finished lyrics & vocals to. When completed and recorded, it would likely clock in at 6 minutes or longer, as an epic, despite being one of my shortest poems in its original form.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy bey being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
Brick by brick the world will crumble
By enmity's hammer, all are humbled

One by one the numbers fall
The standing fight as wounded crawl
But how quickly one joins the other
No matter how brave or strong or tall

And one by one along the way
Throughout each night and everyday
The hungry beast consumes and feeds
a continual feast upon the fray

One by one the nations die
All hope fades and strong men cry
But never, never will it end
And so tempestuous time will fly

From this bleak hour and all hereby
Thread by thread unravels time
And evermore does man subside
While, thread by thread, unravels time
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #5. Please see the collection page itself.

On the original poem, Bradley Hand ITC font was used so that it appeared thinner and more thread-like than the other fonts used in the collection.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy bey being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
You speak of things you know not of
You lecture things you're incapable of
You accuse of things you know not true
You deny the things you know to be true

They're absurd, really, the things you say
The things that only you would say
It's unfair, really, the way you act
Demanding the things of the stuff you lacked

The way you wish that you could be
You will not find inside of me

Just turn around and view yourself
I promise I don't need your help
Just focus on the life you own
And learn that my life is my own
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #4. Please see the collection page itself.

Line #7 originally said "It's illogical" instead of "It's unfair". I had a tough time finding a word I was happy with for a while, and changed it much later.
This poem was birthed from anger, and I regretted writing it later, and wince at typing it up again even now. But it's a part of my story that from that week that gave birth to the poet in me. So I feel it should be included.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy bey being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
Remember us?
Remember then?
Those days you used to call me friend

Our hearts were close
Our bond was strong
Now it feels it's been so long

Once you felt
And once you cared
For all the moments that we shared

Now, as I try to get my head clear
I find myself wishing
That you were still here
|Written 2010}
from my *Emerge collection, being poem #3.

The original poem had a very much lighter color applied to it than the other poems in the collection, so that it looked faded.
I later revisited and altered/expanded this poem, under the title "Then".

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy bey being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
Life wildly spins
It rocks and tilts and wavers
And as time tumbles on
It grows more and more unstable
And with each revolution passed
Fewer more will come
So each new moment gains new worth
As soon its turns are done

Regard these words
And know the last will come
How will you spend this time
Before this wild ride is done?
Although it seems it will go on
Time will see its end
And when it's done and fine'ly falls,
It won't be spun again
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection, being poem #2.

The original title was "Top", as in the type of spinning toy, but I later thought that title was too broad to pick up on without a picture or context with it to clue people into what I meant by the word "Top", so I changed the name to "Topple" to convey the meaning more accurately.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy bey being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
 Apr 2014
AD Sifford
You keep it there in the corner of your attic
And thus it remains unfulfilled and useless
It's never been opened; not once touched
Is this wastage to be its ultimate destiny?
Or shall it one day see light and freedom?
Won't you open the box in which it rests?
It wants to bloom and flourish and grow!
It can't be kept inside some box like junk
Release it now, from its dark cube prison
Discover its potential; unleash your soul.
|Written 2010|
*from my Emerge collection., being poem #1.

© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poetry, I just ask that you show courtesy bey being honest and attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford

— The End —