Saturday, February 11, 2012


His sovereign word plays melodies in my mind
His timing plays the percussions
My testimony sings background

His will tickles my concerns, forcing them to dive into His joy
His peace hugs my rejection
His promises ease my trafficking thoughts

His mercy is a retardant for what I truly deserve
His grace cushions my falls
His love consumes my failures

Blessings attack like white blood cells
His presents is evident like radio waves

He moves like matter, necessary like protons need neutrons to create nucleus

He matters like character needs DNA
He’s so phenomenal, He can spin earths axis, while tapping into the smallest corners of our hearts simultaneously
He’s so close, if He blinked too hard, it’d probably shift our mortal seasons of time into a small ball of dust, just dwindling in the hallways of eternity

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Perspectives of Endurance

Let Us Be

We close the doors, but stare out windows in apathy.
Another Friday comes, only for another Monday to start.
24/7 border patrol, illegal aliens trying to attack, but I prepare and clean weaponry, going over the game plan, its gorilla warfare.
Christians scrambling up God’s law with hypocrisy, inconsistencies, and gnosticism.
We garnish these meals with validation.

The ‘awaken,’ dream about the facade of emptiness in sleepers.
Eyes welt up with tears of envy and our hearts trip over popularity.
The body practices opus dei, then pant at the wickedness of sinners.
Our minds cross the deserts of religion constantly, when His water is always available.
His well is too deep, so we settle, sharing infested waters with farm animals.

We are like lions chasing dreams of being whales. We are kings and queens, playing paper, rock, scissors with beggars… and the kingdom is on the table. We are dirt asking to be the sky.
Tears trickle down like raindrops hitting the windshield. We wipe them away and keep moving forward.
Time makes love to laziness, we are left with those common wonders, ‘what happened?, how’d I get here?’ Time blames laziness like, Adam did Eve.
We allow comfortability to turn our head while entitlement covers our eyes.
We battle with confession like asphyxia.
We borrow the bandages of sinners and apply them to seeping wounds of the already damaged within the body.

Apologetics is more action than words.
Our hearts cry out like one who truly learned the lesson before they’re disciplined.
Nonexistent without the breath of God.
Our tongues say Holy, but we know not the height of its echoes to Heaven, nor the design it has on our destiny.

Let us be statues of righteousness, museums of destiny, and our wills censored.
Remind us of your word like heartbeats. Lord, let all that you are stampede our hearts with your namesakes.
Let us bow unto your presence, like wilted flowers.
Let us be consumed by your glory, like the fire in Jeremiah.
Let us formulate words of growth and actions of obedience.
Lord God, don’t just let us be, prune us to be all you’ve spoken us to be.

Sodom & Gomorah


 All I have are my stories, but they are mighty, like a creation. My thoughts are impatient to imprint. My actions impact a sudden outbreak of violence. My responses ask for explanations, but my creases are sharply folded around time. When rebuked, you can still see lines from the creases in me, like an unfolded origami. My heart leaps tall buildings in a single bound, but my falls crash like inertia. My eyes can twirl like sushi rolls. My tongue has been epic for generations. I smell like sub subjects of death.

 I am whatever “they” say I am. Literally, I can blend with the best of them, and trust, I am considered because of the best of them. I move slow, but I take shortcuts through memories and history. I am in the spiritual and secular. I do well with balance, but I can’t stand change. I am a perfectionist of watering down standards, morals, and values. I take flight with wings of superstition, oppression, and depression, while I land confidently on grounds of confusion, vengeance, and breakdowns. I am intrigued with bloodlines. I instill fear and I play with control.

 I am not created on my own, I am born and bred by people. They welcome me and people become comfortable in my presence. I’ve played devil’s advocate since the beginning of time, just ask the Pharisees and modern day families. I am the reason the young shun the wisdom of the old. I am also the reason the old can’t comprehend the new generation. I cause family to be defined by the great, greats. My best friend is pride, well most of the time. My names hang and echo throughout the hallways of your educational programs, governments, and churches.

 I am a ritual, belief, or object passed down within a society, still maintained in the present, with origins in the past. I used to be you, and still, I am many right now. I am covered up with blankets of religion, deception, and manipulation. I am tradition. Don’t act like you don’t know me. You pray against me, but you contradict your request, putting the Holy Spirit in a box, not realizing the word then, is still the word now. You thrust me into the atmosphere daily, especially in moments of ignorance, primarily those times when you’re challenged. God is contemporary. If He wasn’t, then why would you be created for such a time as this. Would you have really survived twenty to fifty years prior to your birth, being who you are today? I am a necessity in certain sections of order. As in many matters in the realm of physicality and time, my original purpose has been manipulated and used as a mask for truth, the word of God.

 I plea with you, redefine me in your own lives, that I may be shed in a different light by anyone connected to you. Understand my existence, but with that, submit your will to Christ. You are the salt of the earth, but the church is compromising its ability to assist in purifying society. I met Christ and He redefined me in spite of those whom used me as a form of bondage and superiority to mislabel and stereotype Him. I am a word with power, not to be misconstrued. I have two sides, just as you do. Jesus defined me in acts such as baptism, communion, and deliverance, all of which people have used as a forefront for their own wills. At this point, just as my name would have it, I go back. Back to my tradition. Now that I have introduced myself, how may I help you?

Tuesday, January 24, 2012


Prayer Warrior

Prayer Warrior.
Physically, I am exhausted because spiritually I shift atmospheres and fight darkness’.
My tongues eat the bricks of the walls demons build up.
My worship opens my pathway.
My walk carries my verbage on its shoulders.
Ambassador of Christ
Those connected to me are forced to watch my spirit man take flight.
They get mad, because they can’t see me….but I can’t even see myself, I am out of sight!

                                                                   Dedicated to Aunt Debbz