To pen about the infinite,
can be such a challenge,
with limited diction,
descriptions are so weak,
like a bond that's covalent,
poems preluding the ultimate,
a story about a groom's inheritance,
An Author with living letters lifting up his eminence,
written words with penintence,
living in remembrance.

Systems sedate our senses,
principalities prey on ignorance,
societies atrophy as communities collapse,
humans form a hierarchy,
the soul is on sale,
Christ being made a commodity,
cults of personality,
those we've pedestaled have plummeted,
rappers have shiny wrapping but lack in substance,
podcasts are vain and crass,
saying anything for their only fans.

Life is but a mist,
careful if you think you stand,
let's make sure we understand,
There is both trembling and solace to be held in the hands and a gracious yet Holy God.

I don't sit from a high podium,
I too am just as vile and lame,
as reactive as sodium,
my thoughts dance defiant and deviant,
My words jail me,
confined by my own corrupted collusion,
my tongue ablaze in delusion,
a double-minded broken mirror,
my face on the silver coins of Judas.

My high school english teacher JD would say manners makyth man,
now money makes a man,
but in the wisdom of above that's foolish;
trading the glories for the ghoulish.

Queue Johnny Cash as I wonder when he's gonna cut me down,
gambling with my inheritance,
rambling so reckless,
outwardly professing,
inwardly rejecting.

Quiet place neglected,
Double crossing intersections,
Catastrophic consequences,
my hand I will relinquish,
from the sins i often sink in,
clean the cup inside my dishes,
for every man is a liar,
only one is faithful,
only one is true,
only one is messiah,
for him,
gladly be a fool.

Don't invest in things that will perish,
If life was rice Jesus is the relish.

Dearest reader,
What is home to you?
For me it entails safety and solace,
A place to rest my head,
Where I am known fully yet accepted.

For many years I wandered,
seeking refuge in places and people,
yet still feeling the deepest lonely,
words have been a way for me to explore,
this sense of lostness,
at times a certain truth leaves me feeling understood,
then I change and grow and it becomes a never ending quest,
leaving me weary from searching.

There are many troughs but at the crest I find rest,
I find home and more in a person,
A King and a Priest forever blessed in the order of Melchizedek. (Heb 7:17)

"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him." - John 14:23

Despite the comfort and amenities I've been endowed,
witnessing the corruption and chaos in the homeland,
a mother's aching bones and a nation stretched ever thinner in austerity sends the sweet siren song of nihilism seductively seeking me to sail upon it's serpentine seas.

A few more millions and maybe I'd marry my mattress and lull in to ignorant bliss; a privilege I'm not able to claim. The Ecclesial song of Solomon rings through: "Everything is meaningless. More knowledge yields more sorrow."

Yet Hope endures. Faith sees beyond. Love sustains. A turbulent but triumphant trio testifying that there's still a tomorrow to be tasted and with a smoldering wick of a flame in my chest,
there still roams a devil to shame so I'll rest.

Treaded passed concrete design by the skin of his teeth,
now he digs deep for a trace of belief,
frustration is futile as each axis folds back on him,
a web of passivity leaves him flanging fleetingly.

At the final analysis,
the beams have buckled,
the stiffeners crippled,
with covid clouding his truss in the structure of his mind,
the bolts are loose,
the welds are weak,
the shear tension pulls him apart,
as these concepts compress his cranium,
with every load combination assessed,
each turning moment reacting to
his resistance to failure.
Steel he'll persist,
the worst chances are not the ones missed but the ones not taken,
will he remain standing with his foundations shaken?

Keep your guard up don't just open sesame,
these streets will cut you up with no remedy,
don't sell your heir like Esau you're too tresemmé.

Reliable, consistent, disciplined and driven.
Only a few words i could use to descirbe my dear friend Edmilson.
I have watched him year after year grow in to a man I can only be proud of.
He is a poet, a leader and a learner.
I am grateful to have met him.
A gift to me and many.
When the curtain calls I'll be blessed to say I walked and spoke with such a great man.

Wickedness or weakness?
I should probably not tweet this,
Nearly slipped in to an abysmal depth of despair but read and heard of an heir,
the grim reaper sewed me a ragged garment but i traded it for a glorious cloak i never deserved,
Gave me solace when i seemed stressed,
I felt my soul less with each step,
To be or not to be?
Neither left right nor centrist,
box me at your peril,
living with the most hopeful omen,
killing fear by the day,
The only way to drink the cup is to keep my eyes up,
Icarus: you can never get too close to the Son,
Part of the cure or disease?
don't know how many seconds till the clock stops,
sprinkle some joy in to this cold play,
imperative is change the narrative,
first to find the path to match my claim,
the freedom attained must be sustained,
Am I free?
Quod Erat Demonstrandum.