Jots

The five-minute rhapsody,
Wrapped up in my mind-mapped rap-city.
The composition commissioned by emotional effusion,
Cutting quick confusion, discerning truth from illusion,
Myelin-soothing, neural-network cruisin',
Defining new paths with renewal soothing
Regenerative washing, yeah, that old man's losing.
While the world keeps watching, fruit keeps growing,
Wait till it matures, reaping the church's former sowing,

The five-minute thanksgiving rhapsody,
Born from reflection of God's love's capacity,
To take concern for a man, how can this be?
Less than a messed-up, renaissance masterpiece,
Little worm rebel of audacity,
To stand against the World-weaver, that's blasphemy.
How can this be?

Faith primer

Faith is the wonder and believer's disposition
To acknowledge God's power and His Word's perfect precision
At defining the unknown and bringing to pass past decisions.
For God's acts and decrees were established pre-beginning.


Faith is the delight in the unveiling of the mystery
Being told the secret before it's man's history,
Still just as certain, but more rewarding for us, the finite,
Proceeding from and leading to seeking God and proclaiming the returning White Knight.

Faith is a gift God gives to illumine,
The truth about Himself, so that we're not consumed in,
The purifying blaze.
Instead, to reward us with the infinite gift:
The life from out of the tomb that forsook getting saved.

Evil shall be called evil.

If I was peddling melodies with tongue-twisted falsehoods,
You'd still buy my lies, and you'd swear they were real good,
Because you're just another puppet in the dark domain,
And you need a real rescue, from all that's profane.
Calling evil good and good evil the same,
Making a mockery of the Lord and saying you call on His Name,
But, you stand sparse, with no fruit, in shame,
Pretending you love him, but it's really the devil you claim,
Turn, brother, turn, escape the coming Day,
When the bronze feet step down, and the blazing gaze penetrates.
Turn, brother, turn, put away your false gods,
The Lord is not mocked, a Shepherd bringing his rod.

One last chance.

The depths of despair knuckle-wrapped around the wheel,
An air of no care, directing us to seven seals,
When it's finished, they're no deals.
When loves diminished, they're no appeals.
So wakeup and turn around before you're broken to kneel.

Daily dip

Page flip, pen dip, dark blots drip off my pen's tip
Before I scribble scrawl my thoughts on the dead tree's skin,
Reminding me that writing requires inspiration.

While the war cries rise from Israeli skies,
And Hamas leaders die, still Intelligence lies,
You remain unmoved, all is before Your eyes.

Three-line musings like headlines, eyeball magnetic,
This mind's restlessness,
Like a journeyman, poetry gone peripatetic.

Grumble, humble

Sand in between my toes, rash-rubbing as I go, got that itch deep beneath my shoulder blade.
Grumbling in my heart, stomach rumbling day and dark, hand-me-down cloak, not tailor-made.
I can hear the other families, same questions, same concerns, did we all just leave to burn in the heat?
There was food, there were homes, there were friends, no moans, no new laws to learn or dumb sheep.
But I'm no troubler, I keep my lips shut, tongue closed in its cage
Because I saw the works that no man can make, they cannot be unmade,
I saw the miracles.
And, reminding you is reminding me, so I experience a special kind of relief,
Because God leads my people, and my stomach is full with each word that He gives,
I've got work to do now that supplies my stomach.  He brings light to my eyes by His
Washing them with spittle and dirt, clumped and cleansed to reveal that which was hidden before the earth.

Rivers flow for a reason

No tears from the river split like a rock,
Fountain-sprayed spirit hit hard without talk,
Ready for the pain coming never blinked or balked,
This is the sacrifice.
Open the door. Just walk.

Preparing the crowd,
Fever pitch loud.
Deceit spreadin',
Wheat lump getting leavened.

Invisible Chaff-staff laugh at the misery,
But, indivisible, this was planned from pre-history.
He never missed a beat.
Full allegiance to the mission,
Amazing hate-crime crowds with an invulnerable decision.

Standing fast, then lifted to the sky,
Held by the will of God,
Jesus Crucified.
But, it was a fight that wasn't ever even.
He disarmed all opponents,
To death's captives He is Freedom.
So He leads them.


Moments pass when anger swells in the stomach pit,
You want to fire shells, and yell how your sick of it.
Injustice flows like it runs the show,
But then you're called back to remember for Whom you hope:
Jesus. He reigns. Repent. He is coming again.