Tag Archives: poet

Soul Soil

Soul soil A new phrase I’ve coined

To give me a visual 

Of what to take in

And what to leave out

don’t doubt me on this 

there won’t be a test

at least not one that’s written 

This soul soil 

If it’s rich

Can promote

Growth

And hope

As its massaged in His hands

And then sifted

Made sure to spread evenly

To keep even the dark corners clean

To foster new meaning

this soul soil

Is ample

enough

For even the most temperamental

Tough

stubborn

Hard headed

And stuck

it is gleaned from the Father

not my contoured

Conjured up fodder

He gives it

Keeps it

Sustains it

Reaps it

For the soul soil is for Him

For Him to take root

make new

shoo

away pests

Wreaking havoc

On depth 

Of our souls!

Anxiety

Anxiety 

Yes, you’re telling me but not really 

Because we aren’t quite free

To speak

of that which holds us

So I’m telling myself

Exercise

Eat right

Fight the urge and purge

It’ll get better

but then it doesn’t

So, I’m stressed to the max

and it’s seen in my actions

Depression and rage times a thousand

You should see me behind closed doors

Man, you would be floored

If you witnessed

Even a hint of it

But, it’s kinda taboo

To discuss

A less than perfect version

So what’s left?

Unrest and anxiety

More pressure to please

Less freedom to be

Fear of being seen

With all my imperfections

So I dare not speak

Of the hidden Inner

That’s riddled with tension

and I’ll keep on pretending

until I’ve sought the one that renders

Me as exceedingly perfect

till the hurtful is no longer worth it

till I expose those

Things that he chose to go 

to the cross for 

and when He rose, He showed

How the imperfect becomes perfect

How the depression becomes redemption

How He chose another ending

Without apprehesion

because He saw me as a treasure

Now, how’s that for value?

And it changed up the game

that I am no longer lame

But now I have the freedom to change!

Cross

WAKE UP !

TAKE UP 

YOUR CROSS 
AND 
DIE TO YOURSELF 
WE’RE DEFLECTING 

NOT REFLECTING 

ON THE RESURRECTION 

WHILE HE’S HEAPING HELPING 

AFTER HELPING 

AT THE FEAST 

WHERE WE ARE WELCOME !
JUDAS ISCARIOTS 

SIMON PETERS 

MIRRORING THE ACTIONS 

OF THE “HEATHENS”
BECOMING ONE WITH THE WORLD 

THROUGH TRICKS OF 

ISOLATION 

DEGRADATION

PERSUASION 
WELL, LET ME PERSUADE YOU

AND WHILE I’M AT IT, MYSELF : 
THE CROSS HAD A PURPOSE 

MAN HAS USURPED 

BUT HE’S IN POWER 

NOT THAT WE COWER 

IN THE FINAL HOUR
“IT IS FOR FREEDOM 

THAT WE’VE BEEN SET FREE ”
HOW LONG UNTIL 

THIS SINKS IN ?

AND WE TAKE THE WIN ?

BEGIN AGAIN ?

Hiding 

I wasn’t meant for hiding 

Chiding

Writhing

Chastising my inner 

For what was hidden 

No!

I wasn’t meant to play 

This hide and seek game

Where you know me by name 

But don’t truly know me 

I wasn’t made for highlight reels 

Just so you could get an 

Unreal feel 

Of who I am 

I wasn’t made to live in darkness 

Harnessed 

Parked there 

Bystanders Unaware 

Or when exposed 

“Look out, beware”

I was made for the open 

The light 

And the hoping 

I was made to help focus

Hocus pocus 

Our attention on what’s magical 

A fully, vulnerable soul 

The things you don’t learn at school 

See, we’ve been made to be quiet 

But “not I” says the woman 

Who was truant 

Now fluent 

In imperfections 

And flaws

Without pause 

For I wasn’t meant for hiding.

What a Girl Wants (or a boy) 

Isn’t it simple ?
The desires of children 
To be known
Owned 
But not in that sense 
Someone to take ownership 
To claim them
To name them
To frame them 
Their minds 
Their hearts 
Their likes
Their wants 
Aren’t they looking for knowledge ?
But not that of the world
But rather their world 
Every little boy and girl
That we notice each curl
That we look them in the eye
See them as a prize 
A gift
A treasure 
That we measure 
Them by their cans
 Not their cannots 
Or who they “ought” to be 
Aren’t they looking to me ? 

Silence 

Silenced 

To be silenced
It’s inner violence 
Being forced to withhold
A story to be told
A crushing of the inner 
A bleeding under skin and 
A heart growing dim 
She’s becoming a shadow 
A piece or a part
Not a whole 
Never whole 
Deep within the soul 
She’s Scared to make known 
What she’s been shown 
Her cover is blown 
When she takes the lid off 
How she was Forced to eat from the trough 
A Choke and cough 
From these scraps of love 
if it can be called that ? 
It was rather more like bits 
Midriffs 
Next “hits”
And their leftovers 
Can She Do overs ?
Abuse 
And hangovers 
These all meant to stifle 
Take out the rifle 
To Fire a shot 
At her voice 
That’s now here 
Loud and clear.

“Pride at its Finest”

Pride at its finest 

Your royal highness

Big on assumption 

And gumption

On how God will work

Assert 

Your opinion

Black and white

Wrong and right 

Eyes shut tight 

Toward the gray 

Mayday mayday

See, it Makes us uncomfortable 

To be vulnerable 

Jaws pressed 

To imagine less 

than a flawless

Pants pressed

Assembly 

Of people 

So we 

Achieve 

This glossed over

Boxed in

And covered 

Gospel

Manufactured 

Wrought

And bought 

Sold

To the highest bidder

But it’s Only a glimmer

Of the wide 

Deep 

Heapin’

Love

He doles out 

On all of His children