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
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
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!
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!
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
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.
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
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
Saturday, February 3, 2007
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
Thursday, February 1, 2007
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.
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!!!!!!!
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