Of Prose and Poetry…

Though I often write poetry, I rarely share it with others. For me, it’s more of a way to get thoughts and emotions onto paper… a conversation with oneself, as it were. When a bad (or good) day ensues it’s sometimes easiest to let the words just flow onto a scrap piece of paper as they may. Consequently, the majority of my poetry has been penned in free verse. Looking back on a few of the pieces that I’ve held onto, it’s interesting to see how the Lord uses our daily experiences and emotions to teach us how very reliant we are upon his saving grace and love. The following are a few pieces I penned on some of those ‘bad’ days. Hopefully they can be of some encouragement to you in your dark times!

“War of the Mind”

In a recken stupor the fallen flies
Not to hope but forsaken lies
He clings to malice and familiar places
A forged forgetfulness of the twisted faces
How is it that he flees into the arms of what he hates
Is this redundance akin with his fate
This lucid, frozen, empty desire
Is filled with his historical mire
And all around lay his fallen friends
As he takes up the sword and a stance to defend
But how, oh how is one to persevere
Amidst burning corpses and constant fear
Where ash lays thick on the deceased and broken
Where all that is said has never been spoken
The war of the mind continues in silence
A twisted spectre of raging violence
The fool dismisses the battle within
As the enemy approaches armed with his sin
Until at last when he least expects
They enslave his soul and infest his flesh
Alas for another, alas for shame
A tunneling enemy, wounding the lame
He despairs as the bulge inside
Becomes too much to handle- too much to hide
And as the tears run down his face
A warmth surrounds him and doth embrace
‘Onward, onward!’, the cry from above
‘On with the sword and on with my love
On in passion, on with grace
Onward in this runnable race!’

“To Remove a Mask”

The world is a dead place to me,
wrapped in the fading shrouds of filth
I wander here and there
meeting again, those that I thought I knew
but the light shattered my soul,
the thick glaze cast from off my eyes;
I walk anew… indeed I walk for the first time
cares are cast on the wayside
longevity is strewn on the hilltops;
pining under this synthetic light
Plastic faces in plastic cages
burdened under a sack of mud-filled lies.
Gaunt and tasteless a mirror of what I once was,
they stagger through the streets
grasping for a day they call ‘tomorrow’.
But oh, for a fool’s hope,
to inject them with faith of a child,
for scales to fall from off thine eyes
and clouds to pass from these dark skies
then and only then you’ll see the truth
two wooden beams and a body forsaken
they washed away this tainted shroud
that corrupted creation and perfection

“What I am and What I will Be”

Gather not the thoughts of dread
the chilling silence which so easily invades
so often it feels like my mind has been entombed
imprisoned in a cell of gelatin
where true thoughts never quite make an escape
trapped inside a numbing agent they float
resonating slower and slower
until they’ve become part of the emptiness

thus the task is realized
a soul encased in frozen deception
though the thoughts and ideas fall asleep
memories of a brighter day claim hope
they scream and resonate through a slothful soul
shaking off the dust and sludge
of a body that has become accustomed to being choked

but these memories claw and cut
though they face a dulling foe
perhaps the most dangerous-
who enslaves the flesh slowly, with purpose
constantly eating away at a mind
once intent with pristine purpose
now maleable and easily bent

then with a flash- memory emerges
cutting the surface of a mucous-laden sky
stark and sleek, so this is what I was once!
as the sleeping soldier groans and aches
staggering to attention; to fight again
oceans of clay rushing from his feet
suddenly speed with meaning!

concepts flashing, life happening
the pulse of thought jolts to life
Purposefully driven forward
striking up a pace that increases with each step
slashing, hacking to the surface
the direction now made true
jumping, fighting, riding
through the muddy swamps that surround us

only for a moment
this short race we call life
until suddenly the shock of light
engulfs and incinerates every imperfection
nothing but joy, sweet perfect joy
consumes ever atom, every synapse
of what was once a body

“And What of a Traitor?”

Despotism is the alias of a corrupted man
For wherein lies the strength of a broken crusader?
Who will cry for the fallen runner?
Would the world shift and turn its back?
What about the lonely, the lost, those who once burned bright?
Was their concience a stolen commodity?
Was anything real?
Should I have been affected, indeed should I still feel?
Wolves in sheep’s clothing tearing the flesh
Empty eyes are tunnels to nothingness
The heart beats cold in a cavern of stone
Yet once I felt its warmth at night
But those days are gone and winter has come
They’re but a chiseled, sneering statue
What of the traitor in you?

“Untitled”

The dawning of a realization within my heart;
Something I’ve known so many times before
yet everytime seems new in the eyes of a child
a lesson learned a million times
that I will fall the harder I try
but there in lies the problem
‘try’ is a three-letter word for failure
My frail vessel plots and plans,
but to no avail
What I require is another’s desire
to replace the makeshift crutch with a plan not my own
A path to follow that I know not
trusting my life to a script that is being read for the first time
Shall I resist, shall I show blind defiance?
No, I will confront my ignorance and accept my failing capacity
to grasp a concept greater than humanity itself
I surrender all to the plan that unfolds
through another’s broken body and becomes my own.

“Mess of a Man”

Screams of conviction echo in an empty mind,
Waves of panic crash upon a slick black thought
The castaway’s dark secrets are uneartherd,
There is no running, there is no hiding,
Sheer terror takes over- vision begins to blur
I now behold the blinding sword of truth.

A hand, perfect and shining grasps the weapon
My eyes widen with fear as the sword approaches
Pain so brilliant as I fall to the floor
Again and again the sword strikes,
I scratch and scream, “Lord, please no more!”
But no stalling action is taken and I’m left in a heap.

The crowd surrounds me, a broken, bloody mess
I cry out for help yet they turn their eyes away
I’m left all alone, cold and helpless
Years go by and countless tears fall from my face
And still in the shadows I can make out a figure
The soldier that smote me stands in silence.

I curse and scream in his magnificent face
Yet his hands are stayed, poised and smooth
I ask him to end my life, I beg for death
Yet he merely shakes his head and grimaces
I’m at the bottom, defenseless and broken…

Only then do my eyes open wide,
As I look to the one who struck me so very long ago,
“Oh, good Lord I need your help,
for if you will not kill me, then make me your own!”
He stirs from his post and trods toward me

“My son I love you, I always have!
But you viewed my good as wholly bad.
I struck you and hurt you, ’tis true
but only to strengthen your spirit,
to show you a humbler and better way.”

Then he picked me up and held me in his arms,
He nursed me back to health and equipped me anew,
A better and happier life I lead,
full of purpose and full of speed,
For God takes a mess of a man and gives him hope.

Floating Stones

"But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

“Come,” he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”

Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him.
“You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”

-Matthew 14:27-31

We can only imagine what was going through Peter’s mind as he walked on water. If ever there was a case to be made for faith, this was it. Peter’s utter reliance upon God enabled him to place footstep after footstep on malleable, liquid water. By all natural, human laws this was not possible, it couldnt be possible! And yet here Peter was walking across the sea amidst a particularly violent storm with his Lord directly in front of him. Talk about a surreal experience!

When Jesus came across the fisherman Simon, his very first action was to change his name to Peter (or Cephas) which means rock. By faith alone Peter, a rock, floated on the surface of the waters as he walked towards his savior. What an amazing moment- Peters faith seemed to know no bounds.

But then a sick feeling took hold of him- his stomach began to turn in knots as doubt invaded. As Peter began to look about him, his complete and utter faith in his Lord was broken and he began to sink. Fear took hold of his entire soul as the water licked up at his feet and began to pull him underneath its dark surface. Peter began to rationalize, to apply human rules to a situation in which they did not apply. Peter, the rock of Christ, was sinking quickly and desperately needed help. As he began to slip beneath the icy waters he shouted to the only one he knew could save him, his Lord. Jesus immediately responded to his plea by plucking him from the waters that threatened to consume him…

The keeping of our faith is a constant struggle my friends! The Lord has been teaching me this in my own life these last few weeks. Its easy to have faith when we become accustomed to walking on water. We take for granted the daily miracles that God provides; we forget that we are merely floating stones. Our sinful nature and actions should have left us condemned unto eternal death long ago, yet Christ in his mercy saw fit to uphold us in his hands.

God reminds of us of this in times of trial and temptation. As our world crashes and burns around us, we become like Peter- frantic, sick to our stomachs, afraid to the utmost of what might happen. Worry invades and we begin to despair. Amidst tribulation pretenses are laid bare and we are forced to come to grips with reality. We exist and breathe ONLY because God saw fit for it to be so in his perfect will. In light of this realization, we should react as Peter did. We should shout to him, “Lord, save me!”

I would also go as far as to say that these trials we face in life are a necessary part of our Christian walk. Jesus himself said, “Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!” (John 12:24-28). The Lord uses our hour of weakness to glorify his name- and what higher calling is there? In our weakness, he is made perfectly known! We are called to face these troubles head on and actively consider how we might grow our faith and increase our reliance upon him. What a wonderful God we serve!

Though we face a great many ugly things in this world, it is comforting to know that Jesus will always be there waiting to pluck us from the depths in our time of need. When necessary trials descend upon us, let us look to the face of God and praise his name. Let us be stones that float upon a tried and tested faith in Christ Jesus.

Scripture For Thought…

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.”

-James 1:2-6

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

-2 Corinthians 12:9