Easter, Taken Seriously

**********
A long, long time ago,
A man-child was born,
Until he died,
Just a few decades later,
Crucified,
His head adorned,
With the crown of thorns.

But he was only dead,
For three short days,
He came to be,
Alive again,
And now to this day,
For the saved’s sins he pays.
**********

Free?
Free is for me!
That’s what they all say,
Until it comes to the deed,
That happened that day,
At Mount Calvary.

Then instantly,
It’s question this,
And argue that,
I’ve never seen such hesitancy,
For something completely free.

It’s uncanny,
Weird indeed,
This requirement of proof,
People need to concede,
That this ordeal,
Happened for real.

So disgraceful,
And undisputably unacceptable,
Misunderstanding this day,
As meant for that rabbit,
Rather than this lamb,
Will see you damned.

Oh the chicks are cute,
But can they give you,
A new life to boot?
Who doesn’t like a beautiful basket,
Full to overflowing with chocolate?
But will it get you,
Life beyond the casket?

**********
Think, think, think!
Life isn’t short,
Truth be told,
It’s very long,
Not gone in a blink,
Like you’ve been programmed to think,
But it’s lived mostly,
On the other side of the veil,
Spent in Heaven,
If here on Earth,
We prevail.

Going once,
Going twice,
Salvation is nice,
Won’t you accept it tonight?
**********

The Invisible Ones

The misfits mesh with me,
I like that fire,
Strong as a sting,
From a honey bee.

It doesn’t get quenched,
It can quiet,
But hidden embers,
Are always there,
Waiting to stir the air.

The misfits mesh with me,
The freaks and the geeks,
So much more desirable,
Than the cool ones,
Whose lips leak cheek.

Their hair has flair,
They mean what they say,
Their speak isn’t weak,
No matter what,
Day of the week,
Or what mood,
Churns in their gut.

The misfits mesh with me,
I see their personality,
Making others hide and flee,
But it makes me laugh with glee.

It’s so delightful,
And I don’t care,
Who toward them is spiteful,
That sarcasm,
With me won’t cause a chasm.

The misfits mesh with me,
And for this I am not sorry,
Rather than full of things angry,
Their eyes hold pain,
And are starry.

The difference between,
Them and the popular,
Is really nothing,
Except which demons and such,
Bother them much.

Christmas Season Secret

Such essential accessories,
Take a picture with one,
For memories,
Hang it to be seen,
Season after season,
For no reason.

Do you suppose they feel froze,
When the wind blows?
Or do they enjoy being on a door,
As part of your holiday decor?

Vibrant evergreen,
Round and full,
Embellished with bells and bows,
That ring and blow,
When the weather brings,
Wind and snow.

Did you know,
At the far eastern edge of town,
There’s something supernatural,
At Christmas time,
Where any wreath hung,
Can communicate,
As though they’ve sprouted a tongue?

And they can see,
As though they’ve got eyes,
And they probably do,
They’re just not seen by you.

It’s mystical,
It’s unbelievable,
Remarkable,
And wonderful,
The way they tell the elves,
Who’s been naughty and nice,
While just hanging there,
Sparkling amongst,
The lights and ice.

What?
How did you think,
Santa finds out,
What you’re about?
Did you assume,
He’s all-knowing like God,
Or maybe finds out,
By committing fraud?

**********

I guess this is a shock,
Learning a piece of tree,
Can see and talk,
But please,
Don’t mock!
Things aren’t always,
As they seem,
Look beyond a surface,
And you may discover,
Dreams, screams, or schemes.

**********

Fruit

**********

The chains are there,
Invisible as air,
Weighing me down like a boulder,
Too heavy for my shoulders.

**********

Now the chains are breaking,
Falling to the ground,
Causing a good sound shaking,
It’s like everyone should feel,
The Earth quaking,
But they can’t,
It’s only me,
As I’m being set free.

The chains rage as they rattle,
They know they’ve lost the battle,
They’d been having fun,
Thinking they’d won,
‘Til I found a new weapon,
And taught them a lesson.

The chains are fastened strong,
And have been there all along,
How they leave no marks,
When they’re starved off,
Is as yet an unsolved mystery.

The chains trick,
The chains deceive,
So good at what they do,
Until they’re seen through,
Now it’s game over,
I’ve learned a slick trick of my own,
That makes them break quick.

Peace must reside,
Where I abide,
Wrath will be felt,
Until the last,
Is in my past,
Good-bye to the bondage,
And hello to the freedom,
Bought for me,
By the bloodshed that happened,
On Calvary.

**********

The chains were there,
Depriving me of air,
But freedom has me light as a feather,
And tough as leather.

**********

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

Your head will become,
Quite the circus,
When everything starts to surface,
It’s totally bizarre,
How it comes from nowhere,
But also everywhere.

No matter who you are,
And where you’re coming from,
You’ve seen some shit,
That you can’t forget,
We pack it away,
Until when one unexpected day,
The feelings left behind,
Spring forth in our mind.

The choicest ones,
Are always amusing,
They’ll take you on,
A wonderful walk,
You’ll smile all rosy,
As if smelling fresh-cut lawn,
Or cinnamon buns.

Some seriously sadden,
So sharply and so strongly,
When you go back there,
Bound wounds open afresh,
And you become such a mess,
That it’s a tad in doubt,
If you’ll manage to crawl out.

The worst will beat you down,
Make you good and angry,
So you wear a frown,
Your blood will begin to boil,
As you recall being treated,
Like a bed of rotting soil.

Once in awhile,
There’ll be one that amazes you,
And makes you wish to travel,
Back to when that one particular,
Was a fresh-made smile.

All the while you’re being assaulted,
With this reminiscing,
Some disappointing,
And others satisfying,
As these recollections flood you,
Mind, body, and soul,
Don’t let them take total control,
No,
Not even the happy moments,
Or you’ll end up going,
Down a deep and depressing hole.

A Welcome Change From October

The introduction,
To a season of relaxation,
One to eat,
Pumpkins and turkey meat,
Rather than present them,
As a sinister treat.

Serving the turkey up,
On a silver platter,
Not sacrificing him in vain,
As Satan’s price to supposedly solve,
Your idiotic matters.

Smashing the pumpkin up,
As an appetizing pie,
Not needing to scoop it out,
And light it from within,
In order for the demons to pass by,
Without tormenting anyone inside.

It’s almost winter,
The month of November,
Some might have snow,
Others white-sand beaches,
But no matter where,
They’ve probably got turkey,
And pumpkin within reach.

In company,
Or by their lonesome,
Going out and about,
Or tucked away at home,
Hour after hour,
Time ticks so slowly,
Until the year’s best meal,
Is ready to devour.

**********

The pumpkin and the turkey,
Redeemed from their help representing,
Halloween,
An October massacre,
Now assist in celebrating,
Thankfulness and giving.

**********

Unbearable Mysteries

********************
Dying to know,
The reason for this season,
But it’s not for us to know,
As this show is not our own,
But belongs to Him alone.
********************

Someday it’ll be over,
And our heads won’t have the chore,
Of deliberating it anymore.

Someday it’ll be in the past,
And we won’t be overwhelmed,
For we’ll be a part,
Of the spirit realm.

Someday we’ll be on its other side,
And these mixed-up messes,
Will have turned to blessings.

Someday it’ll be worked through,
And when we’ve made it to Glory,
We can concentrate on me and you.

Someday it’ll be just a memory,
The details will be long forgotten,
Washed away,
Like dirt from a shirt of cotton.

……….But, That’s The Majority……….

Is there anything more irritating,
Than someone who lies,
To and about,
The one who tries?

One is lying,
While the other’s trying,
But who cares if the trier cries?
For sure not the liar……….

And it sure is lies,
When they say you’re loved,
Yet to the farthest corner,
Of their life you’ve been shoved.

Just be there,
When they remember to care,
Just be there,
When they’re down to the bottom,
On their mental list,
Of who might care,
Just be there,
When a slot opens up,
For them to ask “what’s up”?

Be there,
Or else!
You’re packed away,
To the backmost shelf.

Other than that,
Fuck off!
Who do you think you are?
You,
The trier,
Taking up the precious time,
Of the liar.

So, liar,
Now you’re hated,
Because the you you showed,
Has been long awaited,
But this complicated,
Hot then cold,
Is not a friend,
For on that,
No one can depend.

Shock Of The Century

How are you doing lately?
Hanging on by a thread,
Why’s that?
Because I feel like being dead.

Oh no! – Why?
Because that one’s been sly,
Doing what?
Turning his back, making me cry.

Oh! The nerve!
I hope he gets what’s deserved!
Same here!
Although that’s also my fear!

How so?
Because I never chose,
For him to become foe,
Oh, indeed?
Yes – for real,
I rather picture him,
As a knight with a steed.

That sounds like quite the conundrum!
Yes, it’s a problem!
Whatever will you do?
I shall pray,
For he’s one of the precious few.

Killer Silence

At times it seems,
My head’s went all-out insane,
No one can tell,
The total hell,
One has been through,
As they judge,
And push their views,
From downright different shoes.

I felt it slide,
Across my side,
Creating a big divide,
It was a sword I swear,
For I felt a blade tear,
Though one was never there.

I thought a bumble bee,
Had done and got me,
So bad was the sting,
And something sure did pierce me through,
But when I went,
To pull it out,
No stinger,
Was anywhere about.

I felt the weight,
And the roller skate,
As I got bowled over,
I was plainly bruised and shaken,
And things were broken,
Even though,
You can’t see nothin’.

I’ve become deaf,
From its sound,
Though my ears,
Hear just fine,
Because it’s everywhere,
And it’s all the time,
Nothing shuts it off,
So they are blocked.

I’m crippled from the bullet,
Shot through my back,
And it has thrown me,
Far off track,
The deck seems stacked against me,
Though to those looking in,
Nothing unusual’s been goin’ down.

My eyes have converted,
They now see with my mind,
Which renders me blind,
I gotta say,
It’s very scary,
Seeing clearly,
But with eyes,
Blind as blueberries.

Help,
Is just around the corner,
Help,
Is just around the bend,
But time is of the essence,
And though to the Help,
It’s right on time,
The sufferer isn’t sure,
How to survive,
‘Til its deferred appearance.