I saw Him first or He saw me
and fear struck lonely in the knee
and I did stumble, but then caught
compose yourself', the guru taught

Still the urge to run and hide
lest someone see what lacks inside
I took six steps and then back three
this war between self-help and me

and he took nine from where he stood
the other way, but that was good
the farther off, the less the chance
that lonely would be asked to dance

Now hidden in the second aisle
my strength returned and I could smile
and feel the heat come to my face
and as I looked, my heart did race

For he too lingered in this aisle
the other end and for a while
perusing through the magazines
should I be wondering what this means?

I tried to think but drew a blank
what to do, then my heart sank
around the corner came his wife
with 4 small children, yes, his life

Of course, you fool, you can't be thinking
everything that tics is winking
stop the nonsense, drop the strife
count your blessings, get a life

Bound by lonely? Just get free
kick it in the other knee
get a dog and take it out
and don't forget, you're kind of stout

Lose the weight and get some style
feeling fat? An extra mile!
take your self-help to the bank
get some money, fill the tank

Bring your fear out for the ride
drop it off the other side
fear found lonely in the brew
Find yourself and lose those two

don't be waiting on the show
'cause when it's meant to be you'll know
Pack a bag and take a few
drive all night to somewhere new

but self-help, where we going to?
time is short, you cannot stew
but why the running, why the haste?
Why, can't you see? Your life's a waste!

trying all this new advice
I'm on the rocks, please hold the ice
i just can't fix these strange new drinks
and I don't care what that one thinks

I took that ride out to the cliff
and if's that's true, then what's the diff?
I've spent a lot of time on these
and burned my eyes right down to peas

And so I opened up the door
and took the books out, from the floor
and THREW them off the cliff that day
dust to dust or come what may!

To the woods, from whens you came
before your words would cause me shame!
before they bound you into books
and scarred your spine with fonts and looks!

you had no say in what was done
but someone gained a pretty sum
and all well meaning, surely so
but in the end, a heavy snow

And spring has come, and all things new
I'll try not to remember you
but hope to God that come the thaw
I'll not be sought out by the law

for dumping is illegal here
and though my conscience, fairly clear
at least I saved another soul
from thinking self-help makes you whole

when life is just one smaller part
of whats to come, what's in the heart
and how you act and what you do
the evidence of what's in you

As human being, we tire and fall
and need the strength of someone tall
but not a man, a loving God
who knows just how our feet are shod.

who wore our shoes and walked behind
who bore the sin of all mankind
and took the beating for the worst
the ones who hated, those who cursed

And asks us just to trust in Him
to wash the stain of human sin
to let Him carry, be the Lord
a Savior we can all afford

Whose perfect Love cast's out the fear
the lonely hearts club band is near
and knows the pain, he's led the herds
he wrote the music and the words

the sheep can't really help themselves
though self-help books have filled my shelves
but when I trusted Jesus Christ
he gave me more, the BEST ADVICE!

"I think we try too hard, he said
we need to laugh much more instead"-
"I think we cry too much, she laughed
we're starved for love until we're fed."

"I think we spend too much he reasoned
need to save for rainy days"-
"I think we leave too much unseasoned
spice it up with mayonnaise!"

"I think we eat too much, he stated
we've got all this fat to shed"
:and I think walking's overrated
lets just ride our bikes instead."

"I think I'm talking to a wall
you cannot hear a word I say"-
"but I've responded to them all
just maybe not in your own way."

I think he thinks too much she pondered
I can't read his mind at all
and every time his eyes have wandered
spikes are sharp before the stall...

"I think I'm needing something more"
and she knows what he's thinking of
"Be my guest, don't let that door
besmirch your tender side, my love."

"I think I'm made for bigger things
than being saddled here with you"-
"but oh be sure those bigger butts
are gonna buck your system too!

She thinks "he has it way too easy,
thinks I want to hear this stuff!"
tells him that she's feeling queasy
"heard it all, enough's enough!"

She thinks it hurts too much to talk
about the things he puts her through
her tendency to shout and balk
has raised the foam up from the brew

and seeing clearer, painful truth
his disregard grew from that day
mistook the *** for love in youth
and clung to that which came her way

Daddy never knew his daughter
never built her up to know
how she was loved above the water
that he drank or his big toe.

It's sad the man that she admired
never knew how she'd be burned.
because the love from Dad required
words and  lessons never learned.

and to the wounding add some salt
the failure of the best to choose her
now she sees it's not her fault
she cannot tell the best from loser.

Mum was quite the same you see
a distance there but never spoken
always mediocrity
discontent, lines blurred and broken.

"I think I'll wait another year
before I set my course to sail"-
"why wait, just throw me off right here
this roller coaster's off it's rail"

to this He says, " You're here beside me
for the long haul as they say"
" I think it's best we keep on riding
tell me later, in the hay."

Lots of pain in barbed sarcasm
each has blocked the other's heart  
words in action killed the passion
boundaries blurred and torn apart.

Respect, protect your precious boundary
that which makes you who we are
love yourself and then each other
shining love and sparkling star.

When the boundary violator
makes you feel less than dirt
tell each other now, not later
how that word or action hurt.

I think we try too hard, he said
we need to laugh much more instead-
I think we cry too much, she laughed
we're starved for love until we're fed.

XO
Relational dysfunction, We are all products of some kind of brokenness which leads to our developing our own dysfunctional patterns. Choosing that which fits into our dysfunctional comfort zones, that which accepts our personal coping mechanisms. This poem illustrates from my own experience brokenness and blurred boundaries. Most important thing to do is forgive others and love yourself . If you can't love yourself , you will never be able to choose the right people to share your life with. http://youtu.be/7a5nmO1P5lo

My People perish
what to do
they see the boundaries
run right through

they take the shield
and throw it down
the thorny brush
my painful crown

The garden bed
they trample on
and now not fed
they linger on

and turn against
their only hope
the One to cleanse
their wounds like soap

The hand which wipes
away their tears
was stained with blood
two thousand years

before  you saw the
light of day
He died for you
and come what may

He calls to heart
which turns again
to filthy place
the darkest sin

Messiah knows
He leaves the rest
to find you in the
another mess

He draws you back
to quietness
restores your soul
to joyfulness

and washes clean
and sets you free
to live again
in harmony.

I'm gonna tell a secret
for all we know, a lie,
I'm sure you're gonna to keep it
cause no one else cares why.

We potted wild ivy
and left it sittin' out
the roots we hardly watered
and in spite of years of draught

it climbed upon my outer wall
and once over the sill
our ivy grew into my heart
it's growin' wild still.

And time has past us by my friend
like Ivy up a wall,
a vine of green on everything
which feeds it's will to crawl

Now don't be making promises
let's keep it on the low
We never said "forever"
and no one else will know

I'm just like wild Ivy
I wish it weren't true
my love don't need much love to feed
upon a heart that's through.

Clipping back the foliage
that's crowding out my brain
the roots embedded deeply
are really quite a pain.

The leaves obscure my sunshine
and cloud my vison too
to think our lives could pass us by
without a word from you.

Well you're not one to need a crutch
no swooning butterfly
you tend to life without my touch
or loving lullaby.

I let that wild ivy in
it's just a simple vine
low maintanance and oxygen
I thought we'd be just fine.

But truth be told
this green ain't gold
and bricks beneath are tired
the mortar's cracked from roots which hacked
and into crevice wired.

I never thought we'd live this long
without a word from you
It's time to cut the ivy back
and let the truth be true.

Patterns are beautiful
made for the mind
repeating like seeding
is safe to be sure
seeking to simplify
symmetry's kind
for rhythm needs weeding
and rhyming's manure!

Rhythm will gallop
a horse is a carrier
bringing the message
to those who can hear
but some like to think
that a rhyme is a barrier
blocking the flow
of a message you fear!

Keeping the rhythm
brings sleep to the soul
a sense of reality
comforting true
but once you are in it
the pattern seems duller
and sleeping
mentality changes the hue!

what shoots from the seed
is what God has put in it
but as for the crop
well it is all in our hands
the gift and the sower
are so tied together
for everything planted
has natural demands!

and naturally we are the gift
from The Giver
yet everything in us
requiring care
practice and patience
brings fruit from our talents
the giftings were planted
to have and to share!

I prefer waking
to dreaming and napping
I tend to my garden
and think as I ****
I work for a living
but energy sapping
I'll nap for a while
and tend to my need!

you raked the ground
said it was 'round
before the days of growing maze
and breaking soil

you planted seed
and pulled the ****
and pruned it back, a lumber jack
you loved to toil

you used your head
and bought a shed
had every tool and cleaned the pool
you had the goods

you took the time
to mess with lime
and fertilized, they'd be surprised
this once was woods

now gone the man
and gone his plan
and gone the hands that held the tools
and now I'm hurt

they took your trees
which lined the street
where walk and broken curbside meet
now grass and dirt

I'd made a pact
one tree intact
the one that you planted somewhere back
in ninty five

there with the rest  
our birds can nest  
how we were blessed, my daddy best
on Burton Drive.

those roots go deep
and how, I weep
the lives we've lived, our memories
and stuff we keep

the tools I find
you left behind
I'll tend your garden in my mind
in restful sleep.

artificial tears require a steady hand
a cooperative eye lid
and a willingness to squeeze the container from which they emerge...
or someone to assist in their application.