Brand New Year

By this time next year,
May it all have came to pass,
By this time next year,
May tears have turned to laughs.

The doors that need to open,
And the doors that need to shut,
May they swing in the right direction,
To spring you out of your rut,
And knock bad on its ass.

The ones that need to come,
And the ones that need to go,
May they make their presence known,
In with the chums,
And out with the scum.

The demons plaguing you,
And the angels protecting you,
May they align with God’s plan,
For you to seek deliverance from devils,
And become a willing vessel.

The bad cravings,
And the good inclinations,
May they take their proper place,
The good becoming concrete,
And the bad sprouting feet.

The things you love,
And the things you hate,
May they not affect you unfavorably,
Your loves being beneficial,
And your hates not interfering with fate.

All In Good Time

Good things are happening,
In the realm of the spirits,
It won’t be long now,
Before it reaches our world,
Where I can feel it.

A mind overworked,
By sadness and stress,
But small steps,
Lead to total deliverance,
From the grips,
Of the one most vile.

Tiny things,
Are noticeable now,
Nowhere near,
Where they should be,
But breakthrough enough,
To stop a lot of tears and fears.

A dream here,
A miracle there,
All are answers,
To one of many things,
Lifted up in prayer.

Upon close examination,
Of many occasions,
Lots of things,
Were looking dreary,
Until recently,
Some things started turning,
Toward a new and sunny morning.

Even prayer,
Can hit a snare,
And need an extra boost,
But add liberal donations,
Coupled with a fast,
And it’s a surefire way,
To set stubborn demons loose.

The clouds have opened,
And a drizzle has begun,
Someday soon,
They will let loose,
Like a loaded gun,
And all around,
Wherever I go,
Blessings will soak me,
From head to toe.

Wanted

It would be so splendid,
If Hell would freeze over,
So all the things that it’s said,
Won’t ever happen,
‘Til Hell freezes over,
Could come to fruition.

Like a world not predestined for failure,
One where there are more,
Saints than sinners,
And more to adore,
Than to abhor.

A way to make a living,
That doesn’t require,
Kissing someone’s ass,
And handing them half your life,
On a silver platter.

Where people don’t settle,
For whatever happens along first,
But wait for that which without,
They would die of thirst.

Oh for a world,
Where there are no regrets,
For people said what they felt,
Without stupidly waiting,
As biding your time,
Awaiting a perfect moment,
Ends with disappointment,
That realigns fates.

If only free,
Was really without cost,
But there’s always a price,
And if left unpaid,
That free thing is lost.

A place where time could stand still,
At the snap of a finger,
Or the stomp of a foot,
And then linger,
So we could just chill,
And enjoy the thrills.

If only instead of,
Employing unrelenting backstabbing and gossip,
A person looked at another,
As a soul not a foe,
And realized that’s the only way,
To make Heaven their home.

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.

**********

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.

Some Inspiration……….(I Just Came Across This One)

All Over The Place

Better to be sure they know,
Than let them speculate,
So what if through their narrow-minded sight,
You’re no longer great.

How much,
Does one good man cost?
Count it up,
Maybe it’s good he’s lost.

The black and white,
Covered is small,
It’s the grey areas,
That apply to almost all.

Little does he know,
She knows his deepest knows,
It’s practically transparent,
The way to her,
The unseen flows,
So good luck tryin’ to hide it!

Why does the rain,
Have to bring joint pain?
When it can wash away all else,
From golden grain,
To an enormous freight train?

The fat man,
Who thinks he’ll win,
Judging others’s sins,
Is about to see,
The outcome spin.

When all else has failed,
A dog prevails,
Friends ’til the end,
No matter what,
Comes next around the bend.

Broken,
And never again,
Will believe words spoken,
At any rate,
None from hinting men.

But in the meantime it sucks,
‘Cuz in the meantime there’s the waiting,
And in the meantime there’s the not knowing,
Oh yes that’s fucking irritating!

Hi, it’s me,
The one always cast aside,
Like a seashell stuck in sand,
After the high tide.

Do you think that maybe,
The sun has a smell?
And it is actually possible,
For it to be hotter than Hell?

The color of chocolate brown,
Should be warm and inviting,
But they’re cold and icy,
Even when they’re spicy,
And looking at you nicely.

The match is worn out,
And the embers are dying,
Yet all throughout the air,
A fire is flying.

At the bottom of the ocean,
Many treasures lie,
But is the risk worth it,
If it’s just going to make you die?

A big fat waste,
Of our fucking time,
But somehow us people,
Keep being just that blind.

Coming home,
Such a joke,
All that’s there is you,
The one whom deserves to choke.

It’s not the person you miss,
But the emotions that were felt,
From their essence,
While you were in their presence.

Just expect it,
The sweet will soon,
Melt away,
Like cotton candy,
Overtaken,
By a rocky road,
Then be on its way,
Leaving you shaken and forsaken.

If there wasn’t snow,
I would go,
Reckon,
I’d be there in a second.

Spiritual Warfare

Almost,
I’m used to it,
But almost doesn’t count,
Proof being when the thoughts,
Come flooding back,
With their malevolent attack.

Sneaking in,
Through the backdoor of my brain,
Causing my head to hear crazy,
I see why some of the weaker ones,
Go insane.

I get it,
How that one became deranged,
Why he chose his own day to die,
Uncaring he would cause,
Us to cry.

It’s making sense now,
Why some do things,
That make the rest of us speechless,
Except for maybe,
A “what the fuck” or a “wow”.

Things are crystal clear now,
How some people,
Seem to suddenly go dumb,
Throwing tantrums,
Like one who still,
Sucks upon his thumb.

It’s just hit me,
Like a ton of bricks,
How it is that demons,
Managed to take over,
The way his mind ticks.

It’s becoming understandable,
Why they say their head is, like……….,
But can’t find the words,
After all,
Heads are not expandable,
So inevitably all of this commotion,
Will one day lead to an explosion.

Presently it’s plain as day,
The reason one day he’s normal,
The next he’s doing shit unfathomable,
Going quickly,
From angel to infernal.

Currently,
I myself feel it,
And it’s in no way pleasant,
I want to rave and rant,
But must remain silent,
For to project this everywhere,
Laying it all bare,
What would be the point?
When without a doubt,
No one even cares.

The who and what and when and where and why,
They don’t even matter,
It’s impossible to think,
The way the thoughts are stirred together,
Like a gone-wrong batter.

Almost,
I’m used to it,
But almost doesn’t count,
Proof being when the feelings,
Won’t go away,
No matter how much we pray.

Are And Dee

Like an angry wind,
He stirs things up,
Makes people’s minds bend,
Like a tree bowed over double,
Amid a storm’s leftover rubble.

She follows him,
Like a loyal dog,
Pleasing his every whim,
For her card’s pulled,
From the same deck,
And it’s not that hard.

What a life they lead,
Nosy, nosy, nosy,
Laughing ’til their cheeks are rosy,
Happiest when meddling,
Putting on,
A Christian facade,
Thinking they’re not sinning.

Pretty is,
As pretty does,
These are two,
Downright ugly slimy slugs.

Oh it sickens those,
Who’ve been bruised,
By their ruse,
But what can we do?
Other than pray they stray,
From their wicked ways.

Solo Confidence

The little boat,
Drifts along,
In its heart,
Beats a psycho song,
Full of anger,
Full of angst,
Mad then sad,
It goes far beyond bad.

The song appears,
To come and go,
Caused by whatever weather,
Has determined,
The river’s flow,
But from the banks,
We never know,
To what extent,
It’s taken its toll.

Look it over closely,
Before taking the little boat,
Out for a drive,
Look every day,
In case a storm showed up,
And riled its waters,
While you were elsewhere,
And it needs a repair.

You can’t know for sure,
At only a glance,
So why take the chance?
From where you’re at,
There’s no telling,
If winds were blowing,
Making holes that aren’t showing,
But will be made known,
After you’ve taken it,
Away from its home.

You must remember,
The storm has no friends,
It tosses every boat,
In its path,
And some are made,
To resist its wrath,
But some just can’t withstand,
A strong storm’s demands.

Though it’s controversial,
Technically,
Boats are optional,
And it’s more than acceptable,
To let that boat,
Be for someone else to float.

Though the river is mandatory,
How one navigates it,
Is their own little story,
A boat is escapable,
If you’re capable.