Heartbeats in sync with the demanding sounds of the war drums,
Inhales and exhales syncronize with the hypnotizing ticks of life's time bomb,
Teardrops make the skin more potent with salt than that of the sea,
Humans scramble across the face of the earth seeking for meaning faster than my pen across the paper seeking relief from my thoughts,
The spirit declaring war on the flesh with more fury than mama bird defending her nest,
The angels surrounding you with swords drawn ready, awaiting the command.
Dramatic?
It's called everyday life, Sunday through Saturday and all the way back again.
It's not the fairytale that mesmerizes the innocent
Nor is it the nightmare that paralyzes the anxious.
It's the mundane the bores the crowd.
No permanence, no promises, no gaurantees
but you'll be in luck if you require surprises, fluctuations, and variations.
Retire your old eyes that only see today as a deja vu of the day before
Employ the sight that is fixed on detecting life's novelty, invisible to the stale public.
Nothing will always be here, especially you...
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Down But Not Dead
I've been away for a long time, too long.
I was soo busy looking in the rearview mirror that I forgot to concentrate on where I was heading.
But it wasn't all in vain.
One thing that becomes more and more apparent is that I am fighting.
Sometimes I get lost and fooled into thinking everything fine.
I can't physically see it, but I feel it...
There is something wrong, something that's not right...yet.
The part that I tend to lose sight of is that I'm not immuned to the chaos.
When I think all is well, I let my guard down and get attacked every time.
You'd think I would have learned my lesson by now.
I wish I had, but maybe this is part of my lesson.
No, maybe this is the test... and my oh my, do I want to pass.
I'm battered and bruised and I can't take much longer.
Therefore, I know I won't have to take it much longer.
My weeping is not only enduring, it's dominating the night, but my joy will consume the morning.
The best war tactic is to kill off the biggest and baddest first and leave the weak for later.
That only tells me that I am a huge threat because he's using all he's got to try and get rid of me.
I have my wounds, I have my scars, and I'm familiar with the pain.
BUT he can't get a shot at my heart, why?
Because it's somewhere he'll never find it, in God's hands and that's where it'll stay.
I was soo busy looking in the rearview mirror that I forgot to concentrate on where I was heading.
But it wasn't all in vain.
One thing that becomes more and more apparent is that I am fighting.
Sometimes I get lost and fooled into thinking everything fine.
I can't physically see it, but I feel it...
There is something wrong, something that's not right...yet.
The part that I tend to lose sight of is that I'm not immuned to the chaos.
When I think all is well, I let my guard down and get attacked every time.
You'd think I would have learned my lesson by now.
I wish I had, but maybe this is part of my lesson.
No, maybe this is the test... and my oh my, do I want to pass.
I'm battered and bruised and I can't take much longer.
Therefore, I know I won't have to take it much longer.
My weeping is not only enduring, it's dominating the night, but my joy will consume the morning.
The best war tactic is to kill off the biggest and baddest first and leave the weak for later.
That only tells me that I am a huge threat because he's using all he's got to try and get rid of me.
I have my wounds, I have my scars, and I'm familiar with the pain.
BUT he can't get a shot at my heart, why?
Because it's somewhere he'll never find it, in God's hands and that's where it'll stay.
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