I sit here and imagine the smell of roses blooming
Out of my nostrils
The life of the wilderness
Raining down hunger and fire
Hunger for the Truth, fire that quenches my thirst
Thirsting for the transformation Truth brings
Because I know a Name like no other
Yet to confess His name is controversy
Maybe even deadly
I know a Name like no other
And He is the Way, the Truth and the Life
Who's hand is raised to receive this Manna?
Who is willing to lay down their life for the cross of salvation?
He calls out and none answers
So then,
Who if not me?
When if not now?
What if not Him?
Where if not here?
How if not this?
-soulwriterj

compass vote lobster
Halloween roost
toast spaghetti mime

Under the sun,
And the moon,
Tis the season,
For snow-
For friends, and love,
For warm fires,
And real hugs,
For deep breaths of fresh air,
For showing others kindness,
And that you care.
For taking things slow,
When they say to speed up,
For taking the time,
To fill your own cup.
It's easy to lose yourself,
This time of year.
But it's all what you make it,
Be grateful you're here.

Much love,
Me

Is this not prayer?
is this tool not the tool I hoped for? The pen
filled by the ever-flowing flowery ink
that re-news old knowns
left to ripen under bald and hoary heads
in stoney hearts softened by seventy years worth
of salty tears
and sad songs

"great was the number of them,
wombed ones all, who sang of the victory to be"

Miriam and Hannah, Deborah and Jael, who
retold those tales by the rivers of Babylon?

And who fueled the furnace seven times hotter,
to signal the unbelivable fourth.
being likend unto the son of god, though the
analogy seems
lacking evidence that the likeness can be reproved.
Look again.

This magi-tech converged from all the poetic,
pathetic
ethos of logo marks making proper
ification of a rythm's
un legit singin' in public,
on the corner, wit' Willie and the po'boys
beat me daddy six t' the bar---
Oh
--- those ethnic poundings on my skull,
--- send those feelings, urging, grow grow grow
--- 'til the roofs cain't hold hope in

then

hear come them ol' time thought cops,
wee gray dominees preparing dominoes for

one reason,
dominos are never stood to stand, but to fall

touching one, touching one, touching one

whisper, rest
the waiting is over, this is the time
to start all over.

I crouched by the flowers beside the dirt path
holding one gently as i breathed in its scent

I heard you call from further down
looking up, I feel the warmth of summer on my face

I stand and breathe
the air is fresh and warm
the only noise is the birds chirping along the treeline, and us, walking along arm in arm and discussing everything and nothing

Trembling walls groan.
The roaring arrival of
winters bitter scorn.