Tag Archives: family

Monday Poem – “Breakthrough”

Breakthrough

Looking in the mirror at a person you don’t know.
Hiding from the cellars of a mental rendezvous.
…but you know you haven’t got too long
before the dust sets in,
building on a lot of hurt
and a concrete wall of sin.

I see that you can so I’m begging you to listen,
for your heart is going callous from that malice that consumes you.
You know your not alone, you’re not the only one whose bitten
but time ticks by at an awful rate and before it gets to late,
you need a breakthrough.

Dancing in the garden with a person you just met,
talking with a selfish charm that a worldly mind has set.
But you know you haven’t got too long,
before a time will come
when you can no longer turn away
from the wicked things you’ve done.

…and I know it isn’t easy,
right decisions never are,
God knows that, and I know that, so help is never far.
I know your gonna need someone to help dispel the doubt,
so Jesus died for you and me,
and helps us sinners out

Standing at the crossroads, now’s the time to take a pick,
you’ve had enough exposure so you’d better choose it quick,
because you know you haven’t got too long
before a time will come
when you can no longer turn away
from the wicked things you’ve done.

Before your heart goes hard you need a breakthrough.

Monday Poem: “Song of youth regained”

Song of youth regained

The child within was released again tonight
By a somewhat recognizable sound.
The familiar melody paved way to
Unfettered memory free that once was bound,
Unleashed the beast
Releasing sheets of heat
And light from yonder moon.
Light and laughter grew
And sang along in tune to beats
Of unsheathed imagination,
Offering subtle indications
Of beauty untold and unearthed gold.
The child then grew.
That child is you.
Don’t send them to their room.

Monday Poem- “Communist Paint Sniffers”

Communist paint sniffers

Through my black mirror
The doll-faced little zombies
Sang words of adoration
In drugged, monotone grunts and groans of death.
The pasty brittle faces giving hazy little praises
To the God who permitted debt,
Sickness and pestilence.
But their little is big through my black mirror.
They have no home, no gifts, or hope that I can see
As they stand and sing and smile and freeze.
They have no black mirror, no food or drink
Or clothes, family or time to think.
These tiny little zombies smile
As they pray to a God who seems to take a while!
But He gave them what they have (this Lord of hosts),
Not much but they have more than most.
I look into my black mirror and don’t like these kids I see,
Should I help them be set up? Could God actually use me?
But I need to be distracted
And my mirror has apps for that,
so I click away
I guess I’m the zombie now.

Monday Poem: “Couta Rocks 5”

Couta Rocks 5

Exploring the rocks
With my dog and my pop
And a bag to collect what we find-
A rope tied in knots
And a broken cray-pot
And some shells of all sizes and kinds,
An indigenous tool
(Ill put it back, that’s the rule)
And some junk off a Japanese ship,
This bait-saver looks good,
I’d take it home I could
But my pop tells me we already have six.

I gained a lot from those days
In my bag and my brain
As we’d talk, or explore, or just laugh.
I had a fine looking hound
And all the things that we found
But what I gained most was what Pop placed in my heart.