For me the be free,
I sip on my tea,
And only I think,
Of days I am keen,
Or dreams of my life,
As a basket of ripe,
Apples and mango's,
Peaches delight,

For Saturday sings,
A blue lullaby,
A breathe of the fresh,
And air for the eyes,
I cancel the vision,
Of lonely times past,

Bring in the Spirit,
Of life ever-last,
Jesus the guide,
The mediator of all,
My savior we yonder,
Towards grace that is called,
Willing to die,
Of a cross of pain and suffering,
Willing to free,
From sin and shame,
We've come to this moment,
Now let us again,
Love one another,
Like brother and kin,

A heat that keeps the chest warm, reminds of the days that hurt the most. They leave a feeling of distaste, but a curious cat walk trail has you lost in it all. A care in a world of apathy, the holiest of feelings in an unholy being. You look back on that trail, realizing that the warmth brought the coldest and most stagnant of days, you are frozen in time.

I spend my days moving slowly along the kitchen floor
Singing softly and sweetly of the love I've never known
And as my song rises to the rafters I pray that one day it might reach you and with long spindling fingers fill the cracks of your body with the feeling you've always known in the center of your soul
Down to that secret place where all knowing grows and I pray that it spirals along your spine and out through your velvet eyes as you cry for the honest days wasted and numb on a drunken night
I pray that you find through the atmosphere my lyrics and melodies and that even when we are miles away you might sing back to me
We may never meet but darling I feel you in the blades of grass that grow from between the ribs of the earth
I feel you in that secret place in my sternum in colors of green and gold
And as the days pass may sunlight touch your skin as it touches mine
Gentle and breaking
So tender it makes you cry
I pray that that sun will come and tear you apart
so that you may be free of your walls
So that your body is no longer night
So that we may both learn to blossom in whatever season may come
Through fire and through seawater
May the feeling refine us
And bind us
In the spirit that surpasses all new and old
So brother please hear this song through the cracks of your wall
Lover please come down off the ledge and find that we are still all that we said we were when we were swollen and small
That we are all that we hoped we'd be when we were naked and filthy in the garden alone
Our father was angry but we did not yet know ourselves and we did not yet know the mess to be made
We are messes made by the good intent of apathetic friends
But darling as I move in the doorway I can promise that this feeling never ends
I don't know you yet but I will find you and feel you through the wind in the trees
With the voice of the spirit rolling freely through me
Can't you see?
As I'm singing to you
Can't you feel?
After the damage is done and they say there is nothing left to do
I will come rolling and ringing through you
And the divide will be no more
Alone together at last
clean on the kitchen floor.

This is the holiest form of love I will ever know.

she’s out there on the ice again.
holy night &
positioning the gas-tanks just right.

joseph is her father, and his father,
even if not by blood,
raised flame.

foot to throat, brother remains
in the city working.
he is building a rocketship
in the basement of his apartment
complex.

back to town and dying houses.
foreclosures and fences.
lake of fire.

lights: she lingers in lights.
something so true and alive about the revelatory
of color,
of the world when lit and hit by sun
or our artifice.

her lovers: one dead by heavy
lumber, the other rewinding videotapes
in chasms of the library.
she thinks on his lips.

her dog tracks wet prints
across the carpet and floors.

wish list:
        mittens
        huckleberry jam
        iphone solar charger
        explosives

I stopped writing love poems when I met you,
and started writing psalms instead: I took
your lips as the body and your hips
as the blood of a Holy Spirit you’ve been
hiding in your eyes, your eyes, your eyes
that I’ve been praying to
worship, worship, worship. Some would call
this feeling blasphemy, but since it is winter,
I am willing to take a little trip down to hell
to melt the cold in my bones, especially
if that means I can walk you back
to Heaven. But don’t take this all too seriously
because
I stopped writing love poems when I met you,
and started writing psalms instead: I took
your words as Gospel and raised them to my
tongue and matched it with yours to bathe
myself in your waters to wash away my sins-
and yes, I am a sinner, for I have undertaken
many a Crusade to prove myself worthy
of you. But the blood of my enemies is your
hips. The lips of those I have left for you is
your body. And still in your hell I find Heaven.
But
don’t take this all too seriously because
I stopped writing love poems when I met you.

In a deep and narrow gorge
the wadi winds its tortuous course
in a cliff face pocked with caves
monks ensconced in steep enclaves

Elijah was fed by ravens
praised the Lord, beheld the heavens
Down a steep and winding path
What good is being a polymath?

Wadi Qelt a holy place
I feel God's serene embrace
past are now my life's transgressions
I embrace my sins as lessons.

Drink of the water from the rock struck once. Eat from the manna that falls from heaven and is a gift from God. Clamour not for the ravens that also fall and make you sick and put not your tongue to the vat of strong wine, old and festering with poison. Many men seek the wisdom of experience; probability and culmination and death. In the vast sea of the world, there flows a secret river that flows from the throne of God and pours into the secret chambers of the hearts of meek and humble men. There, wisdom is found and the tree of life springs forth its seed. There is a famine of the mind and of the soul and of the flesh. Its sores, the fruit of tribulation and its **** the wrath of God. Would you not cut or burn it out? My people live in a glorious city set on a hill and want not. They dwell with me and I with them. Harken unto me the words of the book written in your inward parts and I will inscribe a new sound on your lips, a song that never ends, a sun that never sets, a flesh that never corrupts, a love that never fails, a truth that never kills, a life that never sees death. Give Glory to God the Alpha and Give Honour to His Son the Omega and Rest in His Holy Spirit who Reigns: Beginning to End, Age to Age, Universe to Multiverse, Forever and Ever to Everlasting Everlasting. Man.

                                                                                                     - Joshua Morrow

white light, never grey,
you've come to rest
upon my hand
do not fly away!
i am held in awe of you
i'm held in your sway
this is what i wish
this is what i pray
i will not be selfish
i'll be kind today
you'll find a home
within my heart
then maybe
you'll stay...

i'll be truly faithful
i'll be truly meek
i'll be truly patient
i will uphold the weak
i'll lead by example
those who truly seek...

i've been meditating
upon the skies above
what i've searched for
all my life
is your perfect love

true wealth's in the humble
retribution to forgive
the walk will make you stumble
in death we truly live

so i will be long-suffering
and i will release
the joy that is inside me

i will be at PEACE.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 1/16/2016