"accusers" poems
I can feel the fire
licking up my legs until they are charred,
black as my soul is believed to be.
Screams of the innocent echo in my ears.
This was meant to be my funeral pyre.
I **** myself awake
drenched in sweat, with a shriek of pain
catching like a lump in my throat.
Sheets bunched up against me like kindling
gathered to be lit beneath the stake.
I glance around the room
still feeling the eyes of my accusers
bearing into me, hatred blazing the
path of their need for destruction.
“WITCH!”
Many fates sealed with a single word.
Except I am still alive,
the blood of the crimeless flowing through my veins.
Those flames that condemn
spared no one but me, resurrected from the embers.
The Sole Witch of Salem, survived.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 7:32 PM UTC
Give me my scallop shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon,
My scrip of joy, immortal diet,
My bottle of salvation,
My gown of glory, hope’s true gage,
And thus I’ll take my pilgrimage.
Blood must be my body’s balmer,
No other balm will there be given,
Whilst my soul, like a white palmer,
Travels to the land of heaven;
Over the silver mountains,
Where spring the nectar fountains;
And there I’ll kiss
The bowl of bliss,
And drink my eternal fill
On every milken hill.
My soul will be a-dry before,
But after it will ne’er thirst more;
And by the happy blissful way
More peaceful pilgrims I shall see,
That have shook off their gowns of clay,
And go apparelled fresh like me.
I’ll bring them first
To slake their thirst,
And then to taste those nectar suckets,
At the clear wells
Where sweetness dwells,
Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets.
And when our bottles and all we
Are fill’d with immortality,
Then the holy paths we’ll travel,
Strew’d with rubies thick as gravel,
Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors,
High walls of coral, and pearl bowers.
From thence to heaven’s bribeless hall
Where no corrupted voices brawl,
No conscience molten into gold,
Nor forg’d accusers bought and sold,
No cause deferr’d, nor vain-spent journey,
For there Christ is the king’s attorney,
Who pleads for all without degrees,
And he hath angels, but no fees.
When the grand twelve million jury
Of our sins and sinful fury,
‘Gainst our souls black verdicts give,
Christ pleads his death, and then we live.
Be thou my speaker, taintless pleader,
Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder,
Thou movest salvation even for alms,
Not with a bribed lawyer’s palms.
And this is my eternal plea
To him that made heaven, earth, and sea,
Seeing my flesh must die so soon,
And want a head to dine next noon,
Just at the stroke when my veins start and spread,
Set on my soul an everlasting head.
Then am I ready, like a palmer fit,
To tread those blest paths which before I writ.
3.7k
So, he's a cheater.
So he's wealthy.
What's so strange to admit to many?
Women not all innocent in these scandals.
You cry Me-too or Me-three and it still is various takes on the matter.
Whether it's the comedian
The movie mogul.
Or the reddish clown of the United States.
In all situation, we notice some took money to quiet them into silence.
Now, they claiming this and claiming that.
But like many say in silence or around select friends.
Women, not all innocent in these matters.
Some people do anything for money.
And then we spin the tale before the press that goes into instant judgment.
Now, what kind of *** that a fool would pay 130, 000 most men can't state?
Some guys would tell her to call the Wahington Post, New York Time, and any other paper.
Wouldn't any money be paid?
Then we aware this a trait this man has in paying for the pleasure.
Why?
Do we feel this level to say the man to blame?
Deals, mainly with many ladies jumping on this "It happened to me too".
And some has the honest truth.
But then you go back to the seventies on one of the accusers.
Club 54 was more than a club for dancing and fun.
It was also a place to venture for joy.
Why?
Be at a man house when the spouse not there.
But that neither here or there.
Cause once accused many men can't win.
Even when in her mind she knew what you had planned.
In scriptures, Samson was a complete fooled.
The woman used all kinds of tricks to get the information she needed.
And in the in he came to regret it.
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 11:31 PM UTC
The Son of Man came to serve
to seek and to save the lost
to touch and to heal the hurt
regardless of the personal cost
The Son of Man came to embrace
the full breath of the human condition
He sat down in utter poverty
with those too used to exclusion
He walked in step with the weak
putting up with ignorant derision,
He shared His gentle wisdom
in the face of studied indifference
The Son of Man came willingly
to trek in worn, scuffed sandles
to suffer with blood blisters,
sprained ankles and tough calluses
The Son of Man suffered much
though He lived without any fault,
He was a man all too acquainted
with aches and tears and snot
He accepted all of their beatings,
the abuse, the cuts and the bruises
But at the last He was willing to gasp:
'Father, forgive my accusers.'
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
In certain cases and cirmcustances , we question various reports.
Some realistic and some simple fiction.
But is all things based on race?
Probably not?
But on the perception of the public.
So let's dive into various events reported lately.
Why?
Why?
Do white females have no guts to report events twenty years ago?
But suddenly now?
We have law enforcers and lawyers in a society ready to go.
With the Supreme Court nominee allegation, we seeing tricks of tricks playing out.
Whether you like him or not, this guilt attack could have been reported.
What stopped her?
Many playing some of it down cause thee allegations comes now when he about to be elevated higher in the court system?
And let's be real a lot of stupidity goes on in our teen years that we ALL might regrets.
What do experts say?
We not wise to make an adult decision in our youth.
Which many of us know not exactly true.
Even with Cosby attacks many still think if the lady took a secret payment.
She played a guilt in him if true doing more against the others.
Plus, by law, she owes the money back.
It's a broken contractual agreement.
And many men still doubt some accusation.
Is with the famous accuser?
Why?
Didn't take go to news a long time ago?
In some these cases, they were mixed, racial accusers?
If took a poll mainly always one sided based in race polling?
Many would high light white females love to play along and stay the silent partner in cases.
And this isn't always about they were fearful.
But their partial guilt will be exposed.
All these high-level ****** harassment cases level against news executive points out various themes.
They still worked for the company and around him.
For what?
They had a family to take care of in life.
Sounds good but many of us know we not going stay in a hostile environment too long.
What's going to get better?
Some, hate to admit it.
Rose through the ranks to be high-level anchors.
At most companies, many employees know the "slept her way to the top" female.
And then the case "huntress" always on the scene Gloria Allred the lawyer present in most cases.
What high profile lawyer?
Do anything for free?
Of all races, it seems white females have this selected memory that surfaces back just at the right time.
But no one can make you be quiet.
Although a few friends and family try with you gonna embarrassed the family.
But if it gives you a peace of mind.
Follow your heart and go after your accusers.
True friends and family stay at your best supporters.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
I want to die hungry
I want to die knowing life meant something
I want to die with piles of work unfinished....
unfinished poems
unfinished books
unfinished illustrations
unfinished paintings...
I want to die knowing I tried to my very last breath
to make this world a better place
that I tried to shed light into the worlds darkness
that I tried to transform something cold
and heartless and ugly into something beautiful
That I did not turn a blind eye
to the poor and the hungry and the homeless
That I spoke up when inequality was still a monster
guarding capital hill
and its stash of gold and treasure for the 1%
That I acknowledge that white privilege
was a serpent in the court room
devouring real justice
while turning a blind eye
to the crimes of daddies little boy
who just made a mistake for "twenty minutes"
over and over
again and again
in and out
in and out
for "twenty minutes"
and why should "twenty" consecutive "minutes"
of poor choices ruin his whole privileged...
I mean promising life...
That white privilege was obvious
when one person convicted of ****
walked free in three months
while other men just accused of ****
found but not proven guilty
spent decades behind bars
to only be eventually freed
when their accusers told the truth
about how they had lied
and none of it happened
and if you can't guess the difference between the two
you probably believe the world is flat
and that white privilege and climate change and global warming
are paranoid delusions of people who are lazy and worthless
and want something for nothing
That the dead no matter their color
still need to see their murders pay
for what they have stolen
what they have broken
and the pain they left behind
when they decided that when
they "feared" for their life
it went from to protect and serve
the community and the people
to I'm going to **** this ************
That I knew that #blacklivesmatter
was a call for justice and equality
not special treatment or supremacy
That the vocabulary of my sons heart
did not know the word hate
other than when he said things like
"YUCK!, I hate GREEN BEANS!"
That he not only understood kindness
but he knew and lived by its importance
that he strived for compassion and empathy
that he treated generosity and helpfulness
as a responsibility to those in need
that his pursuits of happiness
included helping others in their pursuits
That he loved and gave with a heart
that was always full
that was always hungry
from the time that I leave him
to the time he takes his own last breath
that he lived
to make this world a better place
that he tried to shed light into the worlds darkness
that he tried to transform something cold
and heartless and ugly into something beautiful
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 3:40 PM UTC
The new ruse: presidential psychosis
an impartial and swift diagnosis
as you trump-up the charge
but the sign is writ large:
twenty-twenty TRUMP/PENCE the prognosis.
Corrupt psychiatric inspection
serves to further a facile detection:
presidential unfitness.
(But God is our witness;
you're mad 'cause you lost the election.)
As you slander the president's sanity
you exhibit your own inhumanity.
I would urge all you losers
and lying accusers
to listen to Savage and Hannity.
In your desperate drive to impeach
you would grasp what is out of your reach.
The infernal machine
steered by crazy Maxine
makes a nasty mechanical screech.
The Democrat narrative flounders
while our nation's own hateful confounders
promote red revolution
mob-rule as solution
insulting the faith of the Founders.
Though the state-sponsored media lie,
our beleaguered republic must try
to transcend inhumanity;
quell the insanity.
(Both wings are needed to fly.)
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 7:46 PM UTC
crusaders
christianized, zealous warmongers with ****** stains on stainless steel blades
hauling with them the great flapping insignias of royalty, emblems of their special heritage
disregarding the fact blood flows warm and fast all the same, nobody spared
familiar ties shattered over petty disputes of land and territory in the name of a great purpose
a great purpose disguising glory-seekers and painters whose favorite color is red
led by a massive snowy warhorse with crimson hooves and jet black beady eyes
old, worn, and of a raggedy golden mane forever worshipped
it is my fate to follow
(that’s what they tell me)
crusaders
biblical storytales springing to life as they gallivant across the country singing do-goods
while their actions connotate some great demon lurking about behind their holy words
valiant warriors in service to a mighty omnipresent deity watching woefully from above
as they unnecessarily **** innocents that they knew it was wrong to ******
blind belief is as alive as bloodlust to them, screaming their lungs out for the almighty
they are the salvation and the scourge, leeches of the land and lordly leaders for long
fearful eyes of aliens stare to the sky and grovel in a piteous attempt for mercy
he cannot condone this
(and that’s what they don’t)
crusaders
knights of cardboard armor and ironclad skulls falling by the thousands
yet they relentlessly hunt the enemy like predatory raptors of the past, voracious
not yet declawed or defanged as they are before the plastic wisdom of man claiming to be
the god of glory, gold, and gore; suddenly he is a savage ravager and avenger of the undead
men swear themselves to a cloaked idol in order to become accusers of the guilty
when the openness of perception may be all that is truly necessary
even kings are defenseless against the all-consuming force of religious blessing
how is it just?
crusaders
god’s greatest success
crusaders
god’s greatest regret
(am i both or neither?)
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 10:26 PM UTC
you all gave me glares as i walked through the hall ways
yeah, i gotta admit thats what i questioned sometimes while i stargazed
i was never pretty enough, cool enough, or good enough
but you all had me fooled for just about a month
when my mom died in april, yeah that **** was tough
but you all dont even realize the extent of how rough
i had it, we had, you set us aside like a bunch of losers
we sat back and watched you all become alcohol abusers, marijuana users, and back stabbing accusers
***** you to the girl that wrote i was *** on bathroom stall
cause at the time, it was in love with youre ex that i was trying to fall
and ***** you to the boy that said i was fat
does the size of my britches really matter to you *******
or does my body scream judge me like a ****** welcome mat
***** you all that ever made anyone feel low
cause we all know theres only so much one person can undergo
all we wanted was to be accepted
not labeled, ostracized, and/or rejected
but i can't help but smirk a little smile
when you post that your life is a cluttered unhappy pile
for the sake of all "losers" i hope you look back
and wished you had maturity that then, you lacked
but let this jingle in your mind
the hell within us that you created
has not dictated a thing, it has dissipated
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 8:23 PM UTC
If no Christian priorly am i. And should all
I know about the David's Son was from the
Believers' lips. One act of Christ that shall
My vagabond soul convert is that poor lady,
Who was, by the righteous Jews, caught in
The act of adultery, and to the eternal Light
Was brought to be unto death ****** Stooping
Down, and with his finger began he to write
In the sand; rising up again, saying, he should the
First person be a stone at her to cast
Among the gathered accusers, who's from iniquity
Free and has committed, not in the time past
Neither in this present state, a single sin. And
They, hearing this, from the oldest head began
They to disappear--who had come to reprimand
The woman with a stoning sentence--one by one.
Having all gone, Jesus, thus asked the smasher:
"Woman, where are all thine many an accuser?
And hath no man condemned thee?" She answering
The Lord gracious, "No, sir." "Neither do i too,"
Said the Saviour. "Go, and sin no more, my darling."
Yea, such is the Messiah's love and mercy true!
To save came Christ, and not to sinners ****
The only Prophet that liberated man from the Devil.
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 3:23 AM UTC
My own mind torments me awake at night
My own flesh wages war against the Spirit inside me.
My past eclipses my future
I cry out to heaven but there is no response
God has not forsaken me though
No, I have forsaken Him
My heart and soul long for His presence
My flesh runs from His Truth
My heart desires His love
But my actions spit on His bloodied face
My will is to do His work
But my nature curses His name
If actions speak louder than words am I truly His follower?
If faith without works is dead than what is works without faith?
I long for a miracle but do I believe it will come?
Is my faith bold and secure?
Or like a ship tossed about on a stormy sea?
Is it unwavering?
Or like a sapling fighting the wind?
I am not worthy to be called a Child of God
I am like trash in the sight of the Almighty
There is nothing I can do to make myself worthy
In Christ alone I find my redemption
In Christ alone I am made clean
Even though I deny Him daily His love for me never changes
Jesus! Make me clean!
Rescue me from my afflictions!
Stand before my accusers and declare me blameless!
Renew my weary spirit
Refresh my strength so that I may do great things in your name
Let all I do be for your glory
Guide all of my steps
Sharpen my mind
Make me aware of the enemies many traps
Lead me out of suffering and into your arms
Replace my anxiety with peace
And my sorrow with joy
Remember me on the day of judgment
Declare me righteous
Usher me into your presence for all eternity!
So that I may worship you forever and be made complete by your love!
Amen
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
Matt Lauer, former employee of a big broadcast group.
Isn't facing time behind the walls of prison.
A nice settlement makes some stay quiet.
If they was paid.
Do we see the PEACOCK group interviewing his victims?
Like they were doing the comedian accusers.
A former executive of the EYE network accused and unemployed.
Isn't considered anywhere near going to prison by even his accusers?
Strange justice.
If they pay or have paid they get better treatment of justice to avoid time.
Did we see his network interviewing many upon 6o minutes?
A sitting president taped and recorded as grabbing females by their private parts.
Like a wicked boy does when they have wealth.
Pay them off and later they cry about it seeking attention.
We can't nominate him for honorable mention.
He admitted his guilt on tape.
Now, here come the truth.
A comedian sits behind prison walls held to higher standards than any of the three mention above.
And many males feel he got railroaded.
By women with a little guilt of their own.
Even according to the some the Temple instructor.
What made her take the be quiet settlement?
Heck, we can't come hard upon this infamous soul singer.
His past with youth has been well known.
Some ladies went along blindly.
Some went along as groupies like fans.
And you best believe we not seeking guilt of various white men that rival him.
And all cases isn't decided by courts but by many with public opinions.
Judge not, that you be not judged.
For what you measure anyone against?
You might later be found guilty by public opinions.
Isn't this what decided the case against Jesus?
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 10:41 PM UTC
That is not the question
To love is not always to be
Loved back yet the lover
Sees in the beloved reason
Enough and indeed more
It is a command and not
To be resisted but prevails
There is no choice not to
Love but it is whether to
Fully embrace or to be
Conflicted-To say Oh
Woe is me I am a sinner
Addicted to my sin. The
World seem filled with
Accusers who threaten
The life of one who will
Not accept the hypocrisy- to
Repent of the official "sins" of
An Unsanctioned Love that
Is Universal is to be an
Out caste condemned
This is the crisis of man
In this world but not of
It. God's Angel laugh
At the world's folly- that
Love can be flogged and
Lied to death and take it
Lying down in the grave
Making fools rule over the
Kingdom of God' Children.
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
I exist in between the right and wrong, bringing meaning by any means
I want to know, do and be anything and everything
The doubters sneers do mean anything
And this going to be my battle cry
I'm using my full capabilities
Demonstrating my innate abilities
Pushing for power and possibilities
This is quality creativity
No child left behind, look where that's got us so far
Either unemployed, in debt or behind bars
So now we got nothing to lose
Blurred lines between accusers and the accused
One side speaks their minds
The others pour out their hearts
The fight, the fighting needs to stop
Arguing who deserves to be on top
I retire my title, my skin tone and my status
I lay back and wait for the world to find balance
I'm using my full capabilities
Demonstrating my innate abilities
Pushing for power and possibilities
This is quality creativity
The responsibility falls on us individually
-Tommy Johnson
We all have some potential
To make something good or detrimental
We have determination to face adversity
And do it so brilliantly
Narrow minded "practical thoughts"
The look at us and think we're lost
I am the voice and face of wayward youths
And everything I do is the proof
I got gems locked away in my mind
I try to express them with what words I can find
But no words can express or do them justice
The actions of this generation must be trusted
All we have is time and energy
So lets make this the world what we want it to be
I'm using my full capabilities
Demonstrating my innate abilities
Pushing for power and possibilities
This is quality creativity
I will not bow, I will not cower
I will not bend to your struggle to power
Using your authority, throwing around your sense of supremacy
With your vicious tendencies harming those under your relentlessly
But I'm one hundred percent sure that we can all agree
That the games make us play are just a fantasy
And we refuse to accept you fallacy, with out sensibility
We leave our enemies and head off to our destinies
I know all the hardships I must endure
But if I stay true and pure
I'll get what I came here for
And gain control and end my eternal war
A lovely rebirth
Quietly inhale, slowly exhale
Time will tell
I am a being with many faces
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC
Well that was last week
& this is now
& yes …
it actually is
to him
This President of the United States
who has just endorsed
an accused
child-molestor …
…
THE PRESIDENT OF THESE HERE
UNITED STATES
HAS ENDORSED
AN ACCUSED
*********
…
“He denied it”
says Trump,
of Roy Moore
this man who has 8,
yes …
8 women accusers …
together with witnesses
from the time,
& corroborative evidence
from the time,
& tears …
from the time,
& fear …
from the time,
…
& if there’s special
place in hell
let it house
Trump
& Moore
& Moore’s enablers
& Republican justifiers
& equivocating TV hosts
& the Evangelical apologists
…
& as for Trump
& as for Moore …
the moral bankruptcy here
leads me to simply say
in anger, disgust & horror …
may the dark pitiless depths
of a sulfurous burning pit
be their’s for eternity,
…
or close to.
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
For both of us, C.P.S. caused unnecessary mental & emotional distress.
Their services make me nervous.
They think they have authority.
Take a vote of the majority.
Baby snatching is their only priority.
I was never in a sorority.
I don't have senority.
The accusers of child abusers.
I don't permit to be labeeled unfit.
They are such stupid nit wits.
Misery never quits.
They took my child.
To get molested & defiled.
Through court ordered visitation where at night she would stay awhile.
Even though I filed for permanent sole custody a petition.
Nobody ever had my permission.
It wasn't my decision.
Their courthouse drama caused my & my daughter trauma.
Why is it a crime for me to be a momma?
They managed to take complete advantage.
They believed I was crazy & naive.
By my disowned "mother" they had all be deceived.
Slapped with a restraining order I had to leave.
It was senseless to conceive.
Impossible to retrieve.
They are all brainless is what I perceive.
They that they achieved was a sick, sadistic, heartless grieve.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Again?
Little bits of paper set little boys and girls awake. Paper is the voice, it is the rush, and it plays against the spirit of the rough. Some had hands in favor, some made famous from their toils. Across the bridges, into harm, extreme liking finds a way to plant their dreams. A courageous haunt for storytellers fashioning fictitious love in the vocals of these pleasure scenes.
A gasp at poison sells us. Two legs is all it took- the fanciest of the 399 lives, stitched across the faces of all his slaves. Some hide behind the moon, in the shadow of its glow. Some depart him, only to remark, and take up the King James Bible in a fight to eradicate some half-lie half-truth tale. Some take up their histories. Some track down their accusers. Some just watch the show.
If ever was a prophet, material or fake. A flip of the light switch rewinds the days, while a new trial of words ghastly fails. If ever was a wind to whip the rocking torments of joy into a smooth flowing dressage of subtle paper cuts and clues, lusts on paper and ***** petite memes cloaked in the vast inertia of the West. Rags piled high as riches, short denim shorts worn publicly before each and every oval and square, curious domain names gang bang the brain to forget the old complaints, renege on values once comparable or the same.
Only in this world, today, strangers bed each other and misspell the chants beaten into their acute proclivities for breaking the law, while purposely opening their mouths on soap boxes, and orchestrating the papers’ coolness through the grid and onto the plane. The work of the slaves is the accord to which forewords tune gravity.
This is the paper taking down cities. This is the worship building anarchy in its own members. This is the end of the call and the beginning of the caste. These are the mute and colorless stains on the walls, and the childhood loves of an adult that colorfully decorate the dormitory in his past with the clutter and occupancy that curtails to no complaint. There is the paper and there is the gain. Will any of them ever be human again?
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 5:50 AM UTC
Someone help!
I sold my soul for a song that I cannot hear, a meal that I cannot eat, an end that I cannot see. My heart is aching! I regret my choice, I sought to make my past undone. Alas, I've left the realm of life; I lie in the dust of death. I cannot reach beyond my corpse, my soul is gone...devoured. I lie here dead, unable yet to call for help. Who is willing to take my place? To give their soul to purchase mine? Is there none with love enough to save a fool like me? Look! Beside me now stands the dead! But a moment ago a corpse, that one stands alive with soul anew! And now he kneels with hand outstretched, his lips alight with words that bounce and fly away. I cannot hear him, my ears are blocked by this dust, this death. One word, unlike the others, is sharp and pointed. It does not seek my ears for entrance, this is far and above the most blessed of treasures. It pierces through my chest, straight into my heart it plunges! The pain!
This Word does not excuse me, nor does it accuse me; it cleaves me clean in two, beyond my heart and deeper than my vacant soul. Love. This is not a love that I can understand! What kind of love has the power to create life where death and hate have reigned unchecked? Who is this love? What name can I call it by? How can I respond? Through my despair and past my deafness I hear His name, higher than any other. Jesus! With muted lips and vacant soul, my broken heart cries out! Please save me from my past; it screams against me, condemns me, lays out my guilt spread bare. Can this name silence something this loud and honest? It already has. All of my accusers are gone, the silence of this moment is beyond all I have ever known.
"Come forth."
What is this! The very dust of death, the gates of Hell, have split wide! No longer do I lie still and empty, deaf and blind; I see and hear, I dance and fly! My soul pours forth with a love I can neither understand nor contain, I am whole. The Maker of Earth, the Author of Truth, the One who spoke existence into being has paid the price, bought back my soul. My ears are filled with truth, my mouth with songs unending. My eyes now see what lay before them, always it was here. No longer do I hunger, no longer can I thirst, a soul that is not my own flows from a well of life that cannot end. In every way, I live. I do not fear my end; it no longer holds me, it cannot touch me. The flood of Life through Christ has washed it past the borders of being. I live without end, without fear. The well of life pours out from the Spirit living inside me. I cannot die. Come, won't you stand with me? Won't you be pierced by the Love of God? Let Jesus open the gates of Hell for you and carry you out of death. Come and know the peace of eternal life found in the joy of Christ.
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
There is a dark aesthetic
In the horror-house of a horror story
Where emotion is merely blue ambiance
Treated constantly like mental patients
Every day I face
multiple cages and tanks,
Doors with locks, doors with bars,
Sealed blinds shut tight
and tight schedules sealed shut,
Leashes and collars,
Choke chains and smoke chains-
From the fire that engulfed the flame.
I can tell you all their names;
The birds, the fish, the dogs, the cats,
The animals that were tame.
Those that were as helpless as I.
I can tell you where I am from.
And I am the one who is ablaze.
How can I already sit and ponder,
"I wish I knew then what I knew now?"
How can I already have arthritis of the soul,
How can I already be too tired to fight anymore?
Arguably a tad too young for depressing, nostalgic introspection-
But I can tell you why. I can tell you how much my small frame
doesn't quite fit the brooding thoughts that seep through
my heavy head holding hostage my body
My body is not to blame for this haunting,
lingering past in the shape of a house
It was the limbs performing the directions,
carried out and controlled by the mission control center
to this messed up operation existing within
the confines of my cage
No time to tell my story before the fire engulfs the flame.
But I can tell you all their names;
The abusers, the users, the accusers, the persecutors
Those who broke me to make me tame.
I can tell you where I am from.
And I am the one who is ablaze.
I cannot remember
I cannot tell you my name.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
End Times
Rained blood in the city this morn.
It congealed in the back alleyways.
And the street corner prophets proclaimed
that now was the end of all days.
And then into town came the plagues
on swift paws of rats and their fleas,
and the street corner prophets themselves
succumbed to the mighty disease.
For God protects not the accusers
and glass always falls to tossed stones.
Death stalks the living intently
til naught will remain but dry bones.
They say End Time quickly approaches,
so Beware! For it comes with the dawn.
But we find once the day breaks upon us
that the world, just the same, still rolls on.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
I can feel them itching away at my insides.
They want me to take a shot.
They want me to take the relief of a hit.
"Home is where the drink is" they tell me.
Their judgement is laid before me.
They stand as my accusers.
I stand as the accused.
"We'll do it this way" they say.
"No, it ends now, we'll do it my way" I reply.
"We were always doing it your way".
A sound. A voice. Had it been me all along?
Oh no, had I lead myself astray this whole time?
As a carriage follows its horse, so does a mind follow its thoughts.
It's time to get these thoughts in order.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC
Finally
finally is what I am thinking right now
finally I am done
finally the accusers are gone
finally I wont have to come to place that rejects
finally I will be alone with my thoughts
finally the judgment will all go away
Finally
Finally
finally you will leave me alone
finally I wont have to hide in the halls
finally I wont be confined by these walls
finally I can be free
finally I will be me
finally I can be happy
Finally
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
From the scaffold
we see most clearly.
From these heights I know the stature
of all the works and days of man;
and from here, enthroned by these two beams,
straddling these two worlds,
I see the oyster heaps of cities
where the children we shall leave
assume our places
at the cafe, brothel, cathedral,
and here.
We upon the scaffold
bid whispered farewells
to our accusers
only for the instant
time takes to reunite us.
And with the iron descent of ruin
and the silencing of the mind
and the extinction of the soul
is struck the next toll
of the ceaseless funerary bell.
These are the empty visions
of men sentenced to go before the rest—
who shall not call back from the dripping caverns
that light is dancing on the farthest wall.
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
In the crisp of morning, does edge of rest approach. For in the tents of great men do the warriors awaken in preparation for battle.
Sharpening their swords, fortifying their shields, girding their spears and dawning their armours - a crest for honour. Though amid the steadiness, do they await the word of their beloved monach.
"Sar-Shalom!" be the cries heard, echoeing upon the voices of the wind. Reaching even beyond the battlefields. The name of the monach, adored by the great men, anticipating the words to come.
Alas, wisdom comes on the voice of the wind: "In the vallies, will you victories come". Bewildered they stood, asking themselves "why?" But, their monach adorned in their love does their loyalty stand.
So, to the vallies do they march. Upon the word do they stand, anticipation honoured by their trust. For a hard battle will they fight, yet a grand victory will they know - a relief from their beloved.
From the peaks do they descend, and to the vallies do they arrive. The battlefield marked for honour by their seeing eyes;
Unsheathing are they ready, for the accusers come - but unexpecting are they, for the assurance declared in the meeting of blades.
The divines surrounding their accusers, is the battle endorsed for the victors. As they cut down even their final Goliaths. In the praises given up on the voices of the wind, does Sar-Shalom hear the chants - His great men, now the victories of Eden.
Now the journey do they cherish, in returning to their home. The tents of great men, now victories on the heights. What more shall be done? But to sing in glee. For the enemies borders are lost in the restoring victory.
Their wounds shall heal, and bruises shall fade, but the songs of glee shall ring out through time, eternal;
Oh, the voices of the winds chant forever "Victory in the Vallies!"
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 8:36 PM UTC