YES I MADE IT THRU , YES
IM GONNA DO, JUST WHAT JESUS WANTS ME TO
ALL TO HIM I'D LIKE TO GIVE
BUT THIS FLESH KEEPS HOLDIN ME BACK
IF IT TURNS ON ME, IN THE DARK YOU SEE
EXACTLY WHAT YOU DONT WANT TO BE
I KEEP ON STRIVING AND BELIEVING, IN
ALL OF HIS MANY PROMISES

JESUS GAVE IT ALL, NAILED IT TO THE CROSS, NOT FOR IN VAIN, THIER WAS NO LOSS

ONLY GAIN FOR YOU & ME , THAT DAY
ON CALVARY, THE LOVE HE SHOWED FOR YOU & ME

HE COULDA CALLED A MILLION ANGELS
HE COULD CALLED AN ARMY DOWN
HE CHOSE INSTEAD TO LAY HIS OWN LIFE DOWN!

JESUS DID WHAT NO MAN COULD,
HE PAID THE PRICE
OF OUR SIN
ON THAT TREE
THEY CALL CALVARY,
OH WHAT JOY THAT SHOULD BRING TO YOU AND I

THE TEARS THEY FLOWED , THEY BURNED AND STUNG,

BUT NOTHING LIKE WHAT HE TOOK
WHEN HE WAS HUNG ON CALVARY

THE REJOICING SHOULD RESOUND
ECHOING THROUGH TH WORLD

THE SACRIFICE, HE PAID THE PRICE,
HIS LIFE, FOR OUR OUR SOULD, IN DANGER

WHAT LAY AHEAD, HE KNEW IT
WOULND'T BE THE STRANGER BUT ONE,
WHO CLAIMED TO FOLLOW IN HIS NAME

BROUGHT HIM DOWN, TO DEATHS DOOR
BUT JESUS KNEW, WHAT JUDAS DID NOT
JESUS HAD KNOWN, HE WOULD NEVER DEPART
BUT HIS ACTIONS WOULD PLAY THE PART
IN HISTORY AND THROUGHT THE ENTIRED WORLD
HE HAS ALREADY MADE A DIFFERENCE THANK YOU JESUS!
LOVE HOPE

Somewhere, amongst the debris
of cigarettes after ***,
chemicals to induce sleep,
I forgot what it means to love.

I forgot what it means to breathe,
to sit still, and just be.

Somewhere, beneath these hooded seams
of solitude and well-versed grief,
beats a heart less cynical,
less tamed by vague distraction.

My nervous ticks and bad habits,
line of best fit for a near-hit
of satisfaction:

This is not enough, I know.
This is not nearly enough
to cool the bray of life
that still rattles meaning in my bones.

I forgot what it means to love,
what separates a house from a home.

Somewhere beyond this thirst
for brand-new words
is a gratitude for all that has been.
Every cliché holds a truth.

Every sentiment, a cocoon,
that I should lie so still inside

until I am wholesome,
until I am new.

I woke up the other morning
And when I rose from my bed I stepped
Into a puddle of enlightenment
That had poured from my ears
And pooled on the floor
From the night before

Webster's dictionary contains a definition for freedom
But I will never read it
The Constitution mentions justice
But I'm not sure if anyone knows what that means
One of my biggest fears is a people's revolution without any humanity
Any great revolution must be an act of humanity

One day we won't bite the hands that feed us
Because the hands that feed us will be our own
Most mornings I have coffee for breakfast
I like the coffee pitch black and too strong to stomach
I like my coffee so strong that the truth is easier to swallow
I am no true revolutionary
I'm a middle class white boy from the suburbs  
Born the day Malcolm X died
31 years later
I have no more that $200 in the bank
I still live with my parents
I'm a poet who is afraid of running out of words
I'm a beat wannabe who's never hitched the highways and has never seen California
I'm a *** with a job
I'm a punk with a tie
I'm a lefty folk singer who believes in God

I am no true revolutionary
But at this point we have had enough of those
I am a man with fire in his blood
Child of John Brown and Joe Hill
The wayward ghost of Tom Joad
I am incredibly tired

If enlightenment is clarity
And clarity is being honest with yourself
I am enlightened
These hands have worked
This skin has sweat
This tongue has spoke
This man has bled
I have sung the songs that come from the deepest depths of the human heart
And the day will come when I write my own
I am no true revolutionary
But my heart beats the revolution

I take deep breaths inches away from the pillow
I take deep breaths to center myself
I am here
I am now
But have I forgotten who I am?
   Am I the boy who went to New York on a weekend trip and visited MacDougal street and Washington Square park and didn't see a single folk singer?
   Who ate a date cookie in Chinatown and a cannoli and little Italy because it felt right and good at the time
   Am I the Woody Guthrie Pete Seeger wannabe who asked the audience to sing along to a song they didn't know and no one sang but you didn't care because the words were yours yet you didn't write them?
   Who freshman year read On The Road and Howl and told himself he would be a poet and saw beauty in the world and thought about all the people with beating hearts
   Who sophomore year got his heart smashed against the pavement but decided not to blame himself for convenience sake and is still reeling from his poor choices
   Who took a trip with friends to the Ohio river and held rocks in his pocket because he was prepared to fight his way out if he had to
   who fed his own delusion that he would ever fight his way out
    who lied to himself that he had the spine to fight
   Am I the one who read Siddhartha and vowed to be better and looked toward a golden and eternal time where the words would be simple
   Who cried at Ginsberg who cried at Wolfe and who cried at the Bible because he knew what things were holy
   Who drank tea to center himself who ran to keep himself in shape who had a good time because the world was full of love

Or am I nothing more than what I am now
Breathing inches away from my pillow
Breathing to center myself
So I can be here
So I can be now

Let there be dark
in your life.
One day, you will
be able to see the light.

Wind would sleep in the
earthen lamp during day.
Come evening―
tears will light the wick.

Hordes of moth have
resumed their sorties. Any
cruise of moon was
impossible.

Not acceptable was hiring the womb
for manipulating the race. An
eagle dance, brings out the
savagery of man.