By Arcassin Burnham


To be truthful I'm not perfect and I know nobody is and if no one
Will love me then God was always there from the beginning to
When I had my first ****** encounter to telling the first girl I'd
Rather marry her and have the kids that we dreamt about in
The moment that it started making me believe how some things
Could be good and only good for they would never work out in
The end, use to tell myself in the past there was no time to pretend,
And when each person leaves it's a cycle that'll never end,
One of the reasons why my life was caught up in so much sin,
Later , now when I repent,
Leave my life and you will see what the definition of grudge is,
Sweet vibes in memories but enough I can't stress this,
When I tell myself that I don't stress at all in the peril of my own
Demise letting all my energy and focus go into things that I can
Not hold in disguise,
Hang me dry Lord.......

Nothing in the world is softer
or weaker than water.*

Water is soft,
stones are hard.
Which would
you rather be?

When boulders
are worn beyond pebbles
only water remains whole.

Fill a bowl with water
until it brims and overflows
dripping on what's below.

Soft drops rain down.

Each drop of rain,
inexorably falling,
wears away the boulder
until only pebbles remain.

Each teardrop of time,
inevitably passing,
wears our lives away
until only memories remain.

The pebbles of life
begin as boulders
worn by time and tears
to their own perfection.

Paradox of life:
we must be worn away
to become whole.

When boulders
are worn to pebbles,
and pebbles to dust,
only water remains.

Time and teardrops
fill a pond
ruled by stillness.

Be still.

Know that enough's
enough to know;
that to live
until you die
is long enough.

Be the teardrops
not the boulder.

A sheppard hangs like a T
pierced in the sun  
ablating all condemnation
  as Pilot sits safely vvhile eating grapes
The people get vvhat they vvant
  not knovving vvhy they need it
&& a father vvelcomes home
    a son

Aren't people great,
vvhat is our $um?

You don't see many medallion men
I wonder at times
what happened to them?

I watch movies
eat popcorn
scorn *****
and once
off the Horn of Africa
in a force nine, I
was washed overboard,
thought I was toast,
but the coast guard
on the least guarded shore I know
saved me.

That paved the way for God and me to come to an understanding which was
he understood me and I understood nothing
which again I understood having been an understudy
to a life of no study.

it was good he knew that.

Woolworth's went too,
like a paper shop it just blew away

but the high street's a low point on some graph
that the merchants have made for a laugh
it doesn't make sense
you can't spend pounds and pence
when there's nothing to spend them on.

I'd prefer battalions of medallions
and shops by the score
an army of high streets and
two armies more, but even the
Army and Navy can't save me
and they used to be good for me,

God you see
takes precedence
dislikes things like
impediments
experiments
and all things that
debunk his
glorious
magnificence,
likes to be called
his eminence

I
still can't find many shops on the high street though,
it's a miracle that
I don't understand.