A Cry Was Heard in Ramah

Cataclysmic catechisms
Verbosity engulfing common thought
Empires feud and war
Casualties lay under foot
Lining the pews and padded seats

Exposition drips from the empty pen
As microphones litter the atmosphere
With jigsaw puzzle pieces
Wholeness wrapped in aluminum foil
Demagogues churn as the best intentions
Make way the highway to hell

Nietzsche’s hand shake finalizes ordination
The bells ring flat and deadpanned
As cardboard faces stare
Masks embarking upon ritual
Tethered to the ground by fear or bitterness

The shouting escalates amidst the hollow
As words dull into rhetorical placebo
Noise and clatter has deterred the eardrum
The children laugh and the children weep
The eyes still remain glazed

Light has been contended
While the archetypal darkness
Espouses from the ignorant lips
Hoping for some sort of authoritative vindication

Wolves whoring after modernity
Feasting on the flesh of newborn lambs
As sincere songs rise into the heavens
The incense does not go unnoticed

Who has stood in the council of the LORD?
Who has wept at his side?
Who has drank deep of the pleasures evermore?
Who knows LOVE?
And who has befriended JUSTICE?

I Like God

The heavens bellow
At the top of their lungs
Holy, Holy, Holy

All creation rings out
As particles of light bounce
To and fro
Illuminating the handiwork
Of majesty

Al becomes trite as the echo proclaims
Beauty unspeakable
Dancing through the northern lights

Clichés are laid to waste
As even gnus and narwhals
Herald the brilliance
Of the King of imaginations

Joy drips from the sonnets of hummingbirds
Nectar upholding the buzz
Of energy ricocheting through the expanse of azure

Waterfalls churn the anthem
Of the mighty roaring voice
Even after He took on flesh

Illumination prances through
The darkest of grey
Tantalizing the eye
Stronger than any Skittles commercial

As creation sings praise
With the trees clapping along
What is man that He is mindful of us
Or the son of man that He cares for us

Great is the LORD
And most greatly to be praised

Up, Up, Up!

Pain seems far gone within the bright and shining eyes. The child rumples his hair and sticks out his tongue at his Father staring above him. Disheveled hair and a sticky smile, the munchkin extends his arms to the beaming smile towering above him. Oblivious to all around him he longs to be in the best place in the whole wide world, his Daddy’s big, strong arms. While an airplane crashes into a building beside him and evil men lurk in the shadows he is safe. Snuggled up on the burly shoulder with his Daddy’s beard tickling his neck he giggles in delight as he is carried through the creepy valley. Darkness is all around yet he is fixed like a moth to the brightness of his Dad’s smile. There is safety and peace in His arms, we can’t jump that high but He will pick us up to envelop us in the comfort of peaceful serenity against His beating heart. Its all He wants, to hold us against His brawny chest to tell Him what His heartbeat is saying.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. – Proverbs 3:5-6

The Futility of a Right Broken Arm

My pupils flicker in and out of dilation as insomnia as delirium conceives within the weak frame I now bear. The taste of gunpowder is fresh on my tongue; a thoughtful souvenir from another oblivious kiss from death. The grave dances inside my narrow mind as another seeping wound comes un-bandaged. My soul aches with discomfort because my mind fills with the gleam of the knife shoved deep within the back of my best friend, my beloved, my life. My hair a mess and voice is hollow as I approach the silhouette in the distance. Wrong needs to be made right. A thin veneer of delusion brings thick smog to my already sporadic vision. Reaching the destination, my breathing becomes heavier and heavier, gunpowder never was a good compliment of asthma. In my right hand trembling fingers tap anxiously on a wood handle looking for a splinter, as my pulse quickens with the thought of avenging the cancer as soon as possible. In the other hand jingle a few nails, laden with rust, imbedded deep with disease; which seems nothing more than triviality.
Static was all that seemed left as once again turmoil grabbed my throat, squeezing hard. I coughed up blood which only widens the now creeping grin on my ashen face. Lifting my gaze I scream with a hoarse and raspy voice, “Get off that cross! You have no right to be on that. Let me die!” Sweat trickles out of my forehead burning my eyes as it mixes with soot. Blindness would have been an improvement. I stagger to my knees as guilt gnaws away like leprosy. As my entire surroundings spiral into nothing I am suddenly stopped and put to the ground. Thick fingers scrape the cataracts off of my eyes. Regaining consciousness I am lost within a whirlwind of blood and fire. His eyes burn through me, everything in me convulses as a soothing love bursts forth out of His eyes surging deep into the most desolate crevices of my inner man. We lock eyes for what seems decades leaving me speechless with tears pouring down my face, washing the soot away.
His hand, stronger than death and gentler than a whisper, raises my broken frame up from a near fetal position. Eyes still locked He said one thing to me, “I love you.” These words entered through my ear canals into my brain and exploded. A war rages against the torrent of lies I had for so long called home. The single phrase pierces the deepest part of my spirit maiming every cliché I had constructed and mauls every thought that held my heart with a wrought iron leash. Mere syllables poured forth a warm peace that surrounded my fractured and brittle heart. As fire surges through frame once torn by decay, Eden seemed to be reborn within the deepest parts. With tears in His eyes he grabs me and the blood dripping off of Him flows onto the scars and boils that once marked my identity. As I am covered within this eternal embrace my back aligns and head lifts. Together we create a fountain of tears intermingled with blood. A stream trickles from us springing flower blossoms forth out of the rocky foundation we stand on. Dawn peaks her head through the now blurry distance as the opus of Life carols through the faintly blowing breeze.

The LORD looked and was displeased that there was no justice. He saw that there was no one; he was appalled that there was no one to intervene; so his own arm worked salvation for him, and his own righteousness sustained him. Isaiah 59:15-16

Butterfly Kisses

A small child spins in the meadow
A fistful of flowers and a twinkle in her eye
The bordering sunflowers match her dress
As the sun glows with a nice soft breeze

She dances on top her future carefree
Gone are the bodies the message creeps on
As images of Marilyn Monroe flicker in her bedroom
Marking the early erasure of innocence

She continues to spin with a song in her head
Oblivious to revolutions failed and lingering
Cobain and Lennon are stuck in their graves
As angst lies in wait to captivate her soul

The breeze is soft and the day is warm
Innocence ticks away as death rears its ugly head
Words fly back and forth
Raping hope from the oblivious and the ignorrant

Hallmark cards all end up in the same place
Next to chicken bones in a landfill
Leaving the earth to absorb moments now lost
Sentiment hollowed amidst a haze of insecurity

Words were spoken as breath was breathed
Dry bones awakened to life
Desire to fight and love
Quaked within the frailty of faith

There is One who sees
There is One who weeps
There is One who can save and only one
He asks for you to weep with Him

We Haven't Just Been Told, We Have Been Loved

When all is said and done, the loud noise has done nothing but breed insecurity. Zeal in honest efforts moves the many and blind into either disillusionment or migraines. Fro the soapboxes of the faithful words fall like bricks and efforts seem futile. As dissipation reigns within the catacombs of their own security LOVE cries forth for justice. The scales are thrown out and the hangman is given the pink slip as the roar of the bonfires kindled with dictionaries dances hauntingly in the still air.
Justice cries forth as LOVE raises his bullhorn. As the little children cry out for hope with semi vacant stares there is one in heaven who hears and is alive. As fertility blooms as does destiny. While cells multiply songs are written and sunrises are painted. The good pleasure of LOVE brings forth all things for its own pleasure, to be swallowed up in eternal tango of joy, love, and mesmerizing jaw dropping beauty and splendor between the three smiling Lovers. Creativity is ejaculated as dreams of more lovers are birthed and forged.
Amidst the orbiting infernos who are declaring their uninhibited adulation, the heart if LOVE burns vehemently, as the objects of His affection immerse themselves into rebellion and bitterness spawning fear and pain. He calls out incessantly while only a few of the ones He called good in their mother’s wombs turn to Him. Boundless delight flows from His heart to His adopted children and bride, as ineffable splendor and euphoria are in store and available to them. Each and every one shines as the apple of His eye.
This is the destiny of man, to be utterly enveloped in LOVE. LOVE is what we crave and fights valiantly to, through, and overcoming the menace of Death. The Father sees His children and swoons over them speaking mysteries and comfort, delighting with an exuberant uproar at even the most inaudible “I love You” directed to LOVE. The Son made way as the Spirit dances and mauls the one in us who have not come to terms with their death yet.
There is a lap that beckons from on high. There are arms, big, brawny, strong, safe, and tender whose embrace we were meant to be forever cherished and held in. Our security and identity is found in this and this alone. LOVE marches forth beckoning the treasures of His uncontainable heart to join in the safety of His dream, the day of the gladness of His heart. In Him there is fullness of joy, for LOVE casts out all fears and knows His beloved, whether from the hair on their head or what kind of monkey makes them laugh the hardest, He knows and He cares, and it makes Him smile larger and brighter than any Cheshire cat, and not to mention it does nothing but calm the soul.
As two lovers lock eyes and passion emerge here there are eyes staring at His bride ablaze with depth and love unimaginable waiting for one just to take the plunge into getting lost utterly enamored with the swirling cavalcades of intimate tenderness. LOVE is a consuming fire and will take hold of His bride.
As fear besets His wide eyed delights He has rest for them. LOVE is not a collection of words or a select set of feelings so sporadic that even gauging what they are do nothing but breed frustration. LOVE is simply love. In Him we fight the raging storms to bring destiny to the most detestable and plagued. It is the power that heals with the inferno of a sincere hug. He calls out, be still little children, I know you and I love you. Rest in me. My arms are safe. My face is lovely and my voice is sweet. I will take care of you, Faithful and True are not minor adjectives but they are my name. I have never hated you and my plans for you are good. Rest in me and you will grow and you will be safe, I am the strong tower. Your Father He is God, and He loves His kids.

Rest fo the Weary

His yoke is easy and his burden is light. Nothing is hidden from him, not just our sin but our dreams and hearts as well. He is a good Father who takes good care of his children. We can do nothing on our own and are called to trust in the LORD with all of our hearts and lean not on our own understanding. As believers, we are his children in whom our Father in heaven has good things for us and knows our hearts. He sees our eyes dart around, He sees our hearts ache for all sorts of things, He has placed dreams deep in our hearts for us to partner with him and fulfill. He is good, in all of His ways. There will be rebuke but He does not stare down at His children as if they were utter failures. He longs for His people to stop coming before Him wincing bracing to be backhanded because they feel they are failures. To those who pursue He will reward, the diligent and faithful are delighted in and He has uncontainable grace for the immature and weak. In Him is rest alone as He removes the yokes that tie His people down and breathes life into the deepest wounds. In Him is peace and in time of trial He never leaves, commit your paths to the LORD and He will make your path straight. I admit that in all honesty that the footprints in the sand has become almost a meaningless cliché to me, I stare ahead at the onslaught in the distance and throw the weight of the world on my shoulders, He died for me it’s the least I can do right? Does this at all mean that we should throw off all care and do as we wilt, by no means. In the race we do get weary, but those who wait on the LORD will mount up as eagles, swooping with ease and caih-ng at the top of our lungs. Not only is there physical restoration but emotional and spiritual as well. He knows what we can handle and He knows us from the size of our feet to the longings of our hearts. Every good and perfect gift comes from above from the Father of lights. As we press on our strength is found in Him and our lamps needs to be filled with the oil of gladness. Do I say this as to say I have attained it, shoot no, but its His call to the weary, the busy, the broken, and the confused, and all who call on His name. Contend for the peace that passes knowledge and cling to hope.

“Rest in my arms,
sleep in my bed,
there’s a design,
to what I did and said.”

Vito’s Ordination Song
Sufjan Stevens

A Fist Full of Marshmallows

See the flames begin to crawl
The roar is thick and black
As the bridge is consumed
The delicate glow warms the back
As I daintily frolic away
Maniacal laughter
Chimes in with the inferno’s bellowing
No turning back
It stands no longer as a lie
Truth becomes solid as the futile
Wisk into the waltz of grey soot
And fireflies in the air
Burn
Let it burn
As the fire grows inside

A Man's Wisdom Gives Him Patience

Reliving a moment
The dialogue sputters forth
Like a dying outboard motor
Hacking and wheezing
Breathing afresh an industrial sunrise
The provocation of the hungry
Has lost its excitement
Love cries for a new vessel
The cracks espouse the fragrance
Letting it swirl into a soupy union
With motor oil in the gutter

Gifts have come down
As the elixir of life bubbles forth
Wisdom cries in the streets
“Make me your home!”
As locked eyes share silence

Clichés become parasitic
Latching onto the flowers we deliver
Turning the roses black
And the lilies gray
As fervor burns within immature thoughts
The heart does backflips
Occasionally hitting walls
She calls forth come and drink
Straws are provided

The sails of our ships
Weren’t meant to be drapes
As pretty as the lavender is
They yearn for a commanding white
Love and emotion cry forth
Like a three year old in a candy store
Scolding fails and leashes
Appear barbaric
Yet we groan and wisdom cries out

Fire needs to be contained
Our forests dry out
And Smokey is just too adorable
To be taken seriously
But mind you
Gold cannot be refined on its own

Commissioning the Warhorses

Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him. Praise the LORD with the harp; make music to him on the ten stringed lyre. Sing to him a new song; play skillfully and shout for joy. (Psalm 33:1-3)

This is the advancement of the kingdom, how the armies move forth, rushing headlong into the vile bombarding all that is putrid with the symphonic booms from before the throne of LOVE. Darkness flees and trembles as His proclamation thunders over the mighty waters. Mountains melt like wax and destruction consumes the wicked at the very sound of the unapproachable light. Worthy is the Lamb that was slain before the beginning of the world to receive His due. He who fought and suffered is the one and only faithful witness riding forth on a white horse leaving the river of the wicked in His wake. Awesome in holiness, dreadful in beauty; where there is an abundance of dreams and words there is vanity, so we stand in awe of God-jaw agape, tongue rolling on the ground, eyes popping out of our heads, and hearts rushing like locomotives, as dread and joy and love throb along even the smallest of capillaries. God is good all the time and all the time God is good echoes forth more than mere liturgy, it transcends into the hardest of shackles breaking loose the captive and setting the prisoners free. Even in simplicity it shatters the darkness, the symphonies are coming, a soundtrack for an invasion. Praise God all his people the Kingdom of Heaven is marching on!

A Dainty Prelude

Blood alone turns the wheels of history. Philosophies and dogmas pile up next to each other as anything remotely gleaming of truth is has become like beating a dead horse. Rhetoric is all but inspiring as the anarchists, hedonists, proletariats, and the breathing preach the message that is as praiseworthy as the monkey on their backs. Cynicism is what eats away at all spoken in self justified unbiased doctrines that spew forth from what seems every medium, minus that of miming because we got the box thing years ago. Revolution is a word that is spread like a plague and with the face of Che on it with a hint of humanistic zest it has become more marketable than Beanie Babies with an even larger variety. With such ranting and almost seemingly hypocritical cynicism one may have begun to disregard the beginning quote. Spoken by reformers and dictators alike, it is the one vice that relegates true change.
Punk is dead, “Extreme” sports have lost the draw, as the only moving and news making changes are brought by violence. As bombs explode bringing families to the grave the ground cries out for retribution. Nothing is without consequence as the masses indulge in the destruction of human life and complain about the nine dollar ticket prices. Discontentment lies under the skin of the masses who lie under the yoke of depravity and those with light have lost what seems to be the actual reason of them having the light, if at all. As truth is being paraded and dumbed down into rancid compromise we have made bubble gum into a three course meal.
As many lie in bed and embrace isolation and meaning fear has gone from being an arch enemy to being an occasional one night stand. Death looms overhead as bloodlust isn’t being met by the nation’s cafeterias. Sure twelve year olds give themselves as offerings looking for dismissive approval but if you tell them no, they’ll run farther into brokenness. As commentators of the day rape truth of all meaning they lead hordes into assembly lines building altars of futility.
A wake of corpses our the foundation of our knowledge as good news is when there have only been two murders, a rape, and only one abducted child in the news. As discontentment rages on numb futility seizes the backbone of society.
There is one who sees the wickedness, which is mocked, has all he made bowing to the vapid and main all who seek truth. Joy and pleasures have gone out the window and nose candy and convenience pump depression into the starved masses.
Blood was shed and death was conquered, all evil was put to shame by the blood of one man. The Creator paid for something with His own flesh and blood and the earth cries for vindication. In this blood are truth, life, and freedom. The one who sculpted every heart will return and take hold of what is rightfully His. Holy rage will burn as the tenderhearted one avenges his children.
Left with no resolve, revolution seethes under the surface with tensions thrashing against the malevolent frigidity of pride’s shell. He beckons us to dine with him, to eat his flesh and drink his blood; he is the one and only meal. True love has nothing but this that one lay down their lives for their friends and enemies. Love calls forth out of the white noise and incessant babble. He binds up the brokenhearted and made every heart to be filled with pleasure joy and peace. Rebellion is inherent in mankind’s system growing a dependence on the toxic. In Christ there is beauty and peace. He is on the move and in him only is there security as the sword is being drawn from its sheath.

Hey Look: A Poem

A simple glance
And I’m lost
It’s as if within
Lay a vortex of the indescribable
Colors, lights, and songs
Dancing resonating life
In its beautiful splendor
The heart groans
Knowing the time has not yet come
Patience clenches its teeth
As doubt flutters like a butterfly

Burning fills the glance
As if shockwaves
Waylaid every pulse of the heart
Hope is tightly gripped
As the fleeting moment passes
Heavenly glow is all that remains
As passing time seems to ride my back
I can’t help but yearn for fulfillment

He crafted the heart
And feels every movement
His joy shall come to pass
As his delight is my joy
He is the faithful witness
What has embarked
Shall be completed
In His good and glorious time

He loved us to the end
The end is yet to come

A PSA For the Faithful

Injustice, it’s more prevalent than the Green and White caffeine empire. Our minds are so trained to ascribe our own hierarchy of laws to what we think is right that often we stare at God as if He were a barrel of a shotgun. We have crime and then punishment, law and order, and sometimes CSI. The default justice grid is one in which evil is punished and all hell breaks loose against any offenders lest they run to mercy. Yet this is only part of the picture. Justice shines forth as God bestows blessing and fullness on those who have been faithful. God, the one who made every heart and sees every deed is faithful to complete what He has in fact started. It is His very joy and delight to see His children enter in to all He has for them. He is the good Father along with the one who is dripped in blood. The good He has for His beloved ones are not secluded to what is beyond this present age. It is His delight to answer the cry of their hearts and partner with them in that. He has destiny’s and He has placed dreams in every one, those who seek first the kingdom of God will enter into them and even beyond drinking deep that is the bliss and joy that is Him. Rejoice you who serve the Lamb, He is faithful, He knows your heart, and He will be your strength. He comes to those who wait for Him, and He does it with bouncing, spinning, rejoicing, singing, and resounding joy. Granted God is no candy man, but “without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.” Hebrews 11:6

This Is Love

With a quick breath lungs filled with death. It hung like a mist Thicker than gun powder as darkness enveloped the sunrise with a twinge of agony. It seemed the trees withed in pain as the sun appeared to die. Onlookers gawked at the spectacle, raised above the growing pool of blood. Every red droplet entered nasal cavities as even they wind was on the verge of snapping in half. Christ hung; the grotesque embodiment of pain. Suffering ruminated over the faintly breathing corpse. Weary from the cup of wrath, nails scraped bone as He looked toward heaven. As a warrior roars so did His voice thunder across the now epileptic sky. Everything shook as the violence of the conquest of the Innocent One had been birthed.
Father into your hands I commit my Spirit.
The ground shook.
The LORD saw and His arm brought justice, death had been crushed, bones crunched, snapping with a loud crash and succumbing to its very name, as He rose.
He sees the earth and He conquered, waiting for the day in His heart, the one that pounds like a freight train as the earth looks no bigger than a penny. Collision is in His eyes as the fire that consumes His vision screams for vindication.
The roar from the Cross screams across the created order beckoning His creation to partake in life. There is no justice and truth is lacking, those who consume it are made prey, as the earth shakes in virulence convulsing for retribution.
It is His to avenge, He will repay. Face set like flint as justice swirls around Him as a chaotic maelstrom. Fire rages forth from the throne as it waits for its recompense, longing for His inheritance to reach fruition.
Passion flares as He sees every tear and hears every scream.
Their will be retribution, redemption will hold its final work. Clothing primed for dying, the visceral scream in His heart beckons you to respond.

God is Good

Once again I sit with this vague expectancy that as soon as I walk out the doors and go to my car the clouds will part and for once it will all make sense. Yet I sit here knowing one thing, God is good. Sure I could ramble off a bunch of statistics and give a survey of events to prove so but I have none available. He is good it rings in my soul and it is utterly flooring me, it is His goodness that is the very crux of all existence. From the highest angel to the smallest quark it screams that God is good, situations seem monumentally daunting in proving this it seems but regardless He is good. He sees every sparrow that falls, he protects the widow and the fatherless and he is love. He searches and knows the depths of my longings and questions and the only things He has for me are good. Through trial and tribulation He remains the same, good and just. He is beauty and the Maker of all, He holds the hearts of kings in His hands and the foundation of His throne is righteousness and justice. He is our strong tower and He is our saving grace. He is good and from that revelation all worship and praise stems. Every good and perfect gift comes from Him the Father of lights. Our existence is to dive into the great deeps of His goodness and inhale filling our lungs and bloodstream with life, without it there is only death. He sees how my heart aches for love, vision, and meaning….. shoot He sees all of His children’s. He is a good Father who gives good gifts. Blessed be His name, I pray awaken my heart, mind and spirit to bask in the radiant exuberant blissful pleasure that is His goodness. May my song be, He gives and takes away but my heart will choose to say, “Blessed be the name of the LORD!” You O Lord, are good! I bow before You in gratitude of Glad God of Heaven, praise be to your name!!!!!!!