What Sin Is [Not]

It is not a vacation.
It is not liberating.
It is not a slip.
It is not aiding.
It is not without
consequences at all.
It is not an inevitable
fate, will, or call.
It is not forgotten
by a heart or soul.
It does not lead
to a person being whole.
It is not often
the hard way to go
though often it is wrong
which we often know.

It is a thought process
that is so often odd.
It is a turning of a back.
It is a rejection of God.
It is a giving in.
It is an institution.
It is the despicable practice
of spiritual prostitution.
It can lead to nothing,
no effect immediately,
or it can hit a soul
on the spot, instantly.
It can lead to a dark place
full of panic and despair,
yet it can lead to the attitude
of lifting it up in the air.

Sin is a fire that burns
the bridge to God Himself,
one that burns eternally,
eternally flaming and felt.
Sin is that which discourages,
one that makes us want to die,
but there is an entity
that will allow us to survive:
Christ repairs the bridge
that our sin once burned
to give us a mercy and ending
we could have never earned.
He wipes the tears
from a swollen eye
and saves a soul
so that we may never die.
His pursuit kills that which
attempts to murder a soul
while He is simultaneously filling
each and every black hole.
God's merciful hand
that is all-encompassing
catches us on the fall
through the whining and fussing.
He never allows us
to be conquered by sin
for His love is eternally greater
as He proves here yet again.

Runaway Matter

Runaway matter
escapes from the brain
causing the muddled mess
to become convinced it's insane.
That which was found
to hold great importance
is now nowhere to be found,
not even in the distant distance.
From nowhere can the fugitives
be instantly captured
for the mind knows not
where to look (for it is ruptured).
The details that were pushed
into the recesses of the mind
poured out and over into
an eternal space in which I cannot find.
It is escaping now further
out of the floodgates burst open
into an ocean that cannot be searched,
not in this place, not again.
The matter that once mattered,
the memory that is now only a memory
will ne'er float back into this mind
as it has disappeared for an unending eternity.

Ignored

So many words to say
with so few ears to listen.
My mouth is bleeding
as my teeth begin to glisten.
The red flow of words
that sit in a pool to remain ideas
quickly floods the cave
in which those words are trapped just because.
There is no escape from
the dark places they were created,
no refuge found anywhere
as they are soon to be moot and outdated.
Feelings that once may have mattered
to the opening where they would come from
now matter not (even to the originator)
as now they are convinced to be petty and dumb.
Lines of negativity simply get broader
and rivers begin to overflow,
over the banks that cannot hold them
with nowhere else further to go.
The flood embraces the other purities
that are now to be destroyed
by the very attack that was once
ignored and simply said annoyed.
Perhaps this imminent death brought on
by that which others dubbed harmless
will serve as a lesson for others to gather,
that even a drip can become a tsunami when able to progress.

Forever Smile

She's more beautiful than
anyone who came before her.
She's got a smile that
goes on forever.
The pearly whites she flashes
come from an appearing happy nature,
one that seems so uniquely ingenious,
one that seems to have no cure.
She seems far too robotic
in her optimism of life,
one that seems free of worries
and never stricken by a day of strife.
She seems like no matter what
is done near or to her
she will keep that upside down frown
on her face, stronger than ever.
No matter what negativity
an opposition brings to the table,
she is more than willing
and always more than able
to twist words and saying,
to twist statements and desires
to that which only annoys
the opponent who quickly tires.
Even when others try to hold her down
she brushes them off with a grin,
a move she makes successfully
as the alternative she will never do again,
and that which frustrates the opposition
is what makes her truly incredible:
that phoniness despised by so many
is actually genuine and that which makes her, to others, indelible.

A Dry Cheek

Pick to let it come forth
no matter how much it hurts.
Let the tears come out
along with the blood from your mouth.
Admit your downfalls
to release your soul from entrapment.
Allow your heart to have a rest
from its self-imprisonment.
Open the floodgates that have yet
to allow anything either out or in.
Allow it all to go out and in
and allow it to happen again and again.
Allow your soul the chance
to escape from the trap being laid.
Allow your spirit the chance
to escape from yet again being prey.
Let down that guard that you use
to protect yourself from the world.
Let down that guard that does nothing
but hurts that which has already been hurled...
at least by most...
and let life happen to you once again
instead of the prayer that it passes you by
just so that you can, at the end,
say your cheek is finally set to stay dry.
Allow the flow to escape if that
is what your body and mind needs
for without the removal of doubt and fear
it will never be your spirit that can feed.
Just let it happen to you,
before it is too late to.

Razor Blades

Razor blades cutting
on chalkboards and mirrors
to give the wrists a breather
and instill more fears,
shrills so loud and vivid
curling with blood,
the rich red stream
becomes a flood.
The world is far too
harsh to be handled
as it is much easier
to allow a life to be dismantled.
Thoughts of a past life
that flashes before eyes
disorients the scene
hidden in weeds and lies.
The mind briefly tries
to focus on the thoughts
but instead decides to rest
as it has already fought.
Instead it will allow
ears to only listen
as scratches on the mirror,
in the dim light, glisten
and screeches of souls
past and already tormented
come to take another one
from a body, from a mind demented.

Believing the World's Lies

Walking their walk,
talking their talk,
we're trying not to listen
to them as they balk,
but we believe the lies
that the world tries,
with no attempt to disguise,
to bewilder our eyes.
These same fibs
widely believed by all
are thrown in a blitz
in a forest with trees too tall,
yet someone must
stand up to scream
words of truth
that someone can trust.
While the lines get confusing
(though some may
find that amusing at times,
it is anything but at this one)
we can't be distracted
by how they've reacted
but just keep going,
being pursuant on our way
with a mind
that knows,
as sure as the winds blow,
we must step up now.
This is our time.

I Am Happy for You

That's fantastic
that you found someone
that could do for you
what was expected of everyone.
I am happy for you
and your true find
that would do what others
wouldn't think of in their minds.
He'll bend over backwards
and accomplish your bidding
as well as taking
your heavy hitting.
He'll sacrifice himself
in favor of the "us,"
something he does
without argument or fuss.
He'll do all he can
to make you happy.
I just hope one day
he doesn't ask "what do you do for me?"
for if he asks you
that question you've heard
he'll discover why others
left you cold and burned.
He will discover your
selfish ways that
left you lonely,
lying face down on the mat.
He will discover why
he even had a chance
to be with you in what
was thought to be mutual romance.
He will then discover the
courage to be better off
without the fetter and anchor
that holds him down, that scoffs.
He will then discover the
courage to send you packing
and document the exact
built-in features that you're lacking.
Then maybe you will
discover what is your issue
as you wipe those repetitive tears
off with your worn out tissue.
Then maybe you will
decide to change yourself
and abandon your ways
that have always been selfish...

or maybe that hope
is as useless as it was
after you should have learned it
from the end of us.

Fear

Creaking wood
burns my ears,
bringing to life
my biggest fears:
there's a stranger
in my home
where I am
no longer alone.
I try to go
look up the stairs
but am frozen by
my paralysis in the air.
I can only
slightly move my
head to look
up towards the sky
to the next floor
where the sound
was first discovered
and first found
to see if
the ceiling gives
any clues as to
what above me lives.
My mind begins
to quickly race
as it refuses
a slower pace
but instead
continually goes
as outside
the wind blows
harder and harder
upon the window
that now creaks
and moves so slow.
Fear cripples
my every move
until it causes
my body to improve
to a walking
motion not
before accomplished
though it ought.
I gradually make
my way up,
so slowly,
nothing abrupt.
I pursue it,
the shadow that
exceeds imagination,
this Cheshire Cat.
I go to prove
that fear controls
nothing of mine,
that is has no hold
until the creature
I go after
grabs my soul
with a haunting laughter.
The consumption of
my being quickly
eradicates my mind
from it's existence, ever sickly.
That which I
convinced myself
was not to be feared
was worst than fear itself,
my lesson learned
as my soul paid,
nothing left
but a corpse to be laid.

Resilience Re-Silenced

The spirit to push
and go through
the adversity
given to,
the strength to
continue going
all the while,
while knowing
the truth is
you're so close
to the end of
the rope you chose.
Now a resilience
once revered
is re-silenced,
unable to persevere.
The spirit ready
to force through all
goes face first
in a painful fall,
one from which
they body and soul
may never recover
enough to be whole.

Just the Poison That Poured

Just a shadow of the past,
just a love that never last
and could never again,
it could never again be.

Just the lies that persevered,
just the deceit so revered
that pierced through the skin
and did it again and again and again.

Just the lies you'd speak,
just your hate that'd seek
an innocent soul trapped here,
just the poison that poured
out of a mouth so bored
it found issue with killing a soul,
just the disdain that dripped
from an angry lip
that continued to break apart
a rejected heart
that to this point so far
never appears to
have that happiness you
seemed to feel when I
am ready to die.

The Clown

I look at him and know
how ridiculous he is.
I look at how he clowns,
how his words constantly miss.
I look at how he is as much
of a misfit as they come.
I look at how funny he thinks he is,
yet how they think he is so dumb.
I look at it all
with a chuckle under my breath
until a shiver hits me
and a thought that scares me to death:
when they think of me,
when I'm at the helm
is that what I look like,
how I act in my realm?

Thievery of Identity

What was once mine
is no longer that
with the ownership changed
in a swift thunder's clap.
All that I identified
myself to formerly be
is no longer my claim to make,
no longer mine rightfully.
I have been stripped
of what I once clung to
in a move so unexpected
leaving me nothing to do.
This thievery that has
occurred from under my nose
leaves me paralyzed,
on the edge of these deaths' throws.
It leaves me unable
to awake after a night
with any ability to accomplish
anything I might.
It leaves me unable
to communicate
rendering me speechless,
an emotion I only dream was fake.
Another night's sleep
could result in the ultimate nap
without that moment
where I awake in a snap,
yet in the place that I am,
the place so lost
that seems to be the price
that it must cost.

An Ultimate Resentment

She wears her scars
like badges of honor
to avoid the admitting
of a life of horror.
She takes outward pride
in what she inwardly
could not despise more
unequivocally, definitively.
She wakes up in the morning
to go into a public eye
where she pathologically
lives this ultimate lie.
She does not possess
a drop of contentment,
not a crumb of happiness,
only an ultimate resentment.

She resents all those
who put her in this situation.
She resents all those
who strip her of any appellation.
She cannot stand
the sight or sound of those
who walk by so happily,
so genuine, with their collective nose
stuck straight into the air
as if to rub it further in
that they have what she can't,
again and again...and again.

But mostly she resents one,
the truly responsible party,
one who had the ultimate plan,
the one whose words and thoughts so hearty
had her buy-in to the idea
that the plan was going according to plan,
a reality that never existed
except in what became the ultimate scam.
She resents this one
that has dragged her heart through dirt
and pounded a soul to death
without a thought of repercussion for the hurt.
She resents this one
who does nothing but stare back at her
and will only mimic her actions
from here to the day she dies, that eternal forever.
She resents this mockery
of the shadow that is ever-becoming clearer,
this despicable being deserved of the hatred,
this excuse for a soul staring back in the mirror.

From Ashes of Old

The new ones rise
from the ashes of old
to overshadow the decrepit's
legacy to be untold.
The height imposes
a certain powerful will
that is resilient
in a silent shrill.
The erecting of the tall,
the towering upright missiles
with every power
and possibility to kill,
they kill the one
that's remaining short and weak
simply to choke out
any signs of the frail and meek.
They care not for
tradition or history
but rather the power
leading to other's misery.
Their satisfaction won't
come until that last
gasping breath is gone
from the voices of the past
as only at that moment
is the collective boot removed
from the throats of the oppressed,
now an existence that is moot.

Souls

Souls tugging at each other
as if it's a game,
yet none of them can handle the shame
of being clumped with the latter.

Persons not believing the calamity
their actions bring upon the situation,
producing yet another bitter nation
void of any sort of prosperous unity.

Pushing and shoving all around
other people who deserve none of it
yet people who take yet another hit
with only the spirit of hate to abound.

An earth crumbling at its core
awaiting an ending it desperately needs
as nothing but the evil that feeds
is left with a foot in the door.

Selfish Wealth

Thoughts filled up in a mind that's trapped
with nowhere to go but down.
The mind begins to feel so wrapped
up in the crumbling world around
and nothing can save it from itself
but it with its own selfish wealth
will die.

A soul emptied from past regrets
and wrongdoings that it can't forgive,
it only remembers the times it wept
as it no longer wants to live
and nothing can save it from itself
but it with its own selfish wealth
will die.

A heart so passionate at times
has been stripped of its giving ways
in what was the cruelest of crimes
leaving this pounding in a haze
and nothing can now save it from itself
but it with its own selfish wealth
will die.

A body left for dead days ago
will do as wished and disappear
without another soul to know
the amount of bitterness and fear
that made it impossible to save itself
from its own powerful selfish wealth
as it's now died.

A Smile to Hide

The smile to hide her own depression
caused on her own accord,
caused by her own oppression
that she can no longer afford,
she drinks the smile on
a face that droops so low
awaiting a friendlier dawn,
somewhere friendlier to go.
Her partners in her crime
grab onto coattails
hoping they'll rise in a prime
only to see them further fail.
She pulls her friends onto
the rapidly sinking ship,
a blockade her friends can't break through,
onto the inevitably final trip.
There may be a chance
to be saved somehow
but she doesn't give it a second's glance
as she's resigned to her fate now.
She's driving herself down
deep into the ground
as everyone watches her frown
have no inkling to turn around,
but instead this sad saga concludes,
ending on the saddest of terms:
it's all done with the expected news
of another soul's desires causing it to burn.

The Spider Web of Finger-Pointing

Let the fingers fly,
let the spewing begin.
Throw the accusation, and
let blaming come again.
Who did this?
Who is at fault?
Will someone please
admit when called?

Between the words
and hatred rampant
there is not one
solitary facet
about this present
situation
that is an inaccurate
representation
of the lives being
led by those
that, as far as peace goes,
are vehemently opposed.

The offense committed,
the wrong that's done,
is of the slightest nature,
the most minor one,
yet the reaction
created by such
is far too appalling
to the touch.
The true issue
that is at hand,
the one that needs
the solution it demands
is the one that is caught
in the spider web of finger-pointing,
the one that is
devastatingly disjointing,
yet only the inflicted
of such a disease
knows the symptoms they
must immediately have treated
or else the sickness
will quickly consume
all that will never
have the chance to bloom.

That Hint of Paranoid

That hint of paranoid
that creeps upon,
that clouds the sky
and hides the dawn,
that feeling sneaking,
that suspicion afoot,
it feels too bad,
it isn't good.
It ruins the positive,
makes a promise broken,
turns a monument
into a token.
It takes excitement
down a notch,
as if to expose
it to be a crock.
It allows the build-up
to take place
to enact a tear-down
right in a face.
It convinces a mind
of all of the wrongs,
even in the midst
of the rights so strong.
It poisons a perspective
with a little drip
in a drink that will
inevitably be sipped.
As long as it
possesses a breath
it will always
end in death,
therefore let it breathe not
a single time
unless an eventual demise
is for what you pine.

Confusion

Hopes, dreams,
nightmares, journeys,
lights, gleams
pain, gurneys,
joy, mistakes,
gives, takes,
travels, cities,
friends, enemies,
regrets, elation,
love, jubilation,
the sum, the difference,
rejection, admittance,
understood, confusion,
bandage, contusion,
focuses, goals,
completeness, holes,
words, paper,
grass, skyscraper,
nonsensical, vivid,
provoking, livid,
ends, means,
pretend, scenes,
all, none,
for any, for someone.

Your Great Triumph

Pull my tears out,
yank them by the threads
until you feel you pulled enough
and you have left me for dead.
Scream at the top of your lungs
to have the fire within me build
until it begins to consume me,
until the point has sunk into my head, is drilled.
Stand there and listen
for the cry you worked so hard for,
for the pain you pushed me
as hard as you could toward.
Stare into my eyeball
to see the moisture building
as I try to stop it,
the stream that comes, unwilling.
Turn your back on me
as you have your great triumph,
as you have me on my knees,
just what you said you want.
Take a lap for victory's sake,
the hardest worked-for victory yet,
the moment you promised yourself
that you would always get,
then finally walk away and leave me here
in my most vulnerable moment in time,
with only pain, starvation,
loneliness, and depression, all mine.

Solitary Broom Tree

Solitary broom tree:
the place where I collapse,
the place where I rest,
where I can finally relax,
it shades my fatigued body,
energy drained by the sun,
drowned by life's grind,
from the nonstop run.
It's where the race
slows down to a halt,
a perfect time
to become stalled,
and it is at this time
that a breath of fresh air
is breathed straight
into my lungs there.
It is in this place
that I am resurrected
from a phase in which
no life could be detected.
Legs that could not
on their own stand
now can do all
that this world demands
for the Force behind
their new found strength
will lead to perseverance
to quite some length.
For no longer must
I rely on myself
but rather on a Force
so much greater than self.
Now I can run
through the trials
and over the obstacles
and around the wiles
because no matter where
I may be taken now
I know I will be carried
on the shoulders of the Father so proud.

Intellectually Intimidated

Scared to death
to open her mouth,
to say a word,
much less scream or shout,
she feels intimidated
around the wise,
feeling so inundated
yet there awaits a surprise.
Apparently unknown
to others as to her
is the secret to unfold
that will last forever,
the secret that she
is as smart as any.
If only she gave credit needed
that was ripped away by many.
She has nothing to hide
as all the brains possessed
are that in which to confide
that she subconsciously suppressed.
The wisdom for which
she pined for so long
is coming to fruition
in one of life's happiest songs
as now is her time
to enjoy the gift discovered,
one that will make her shine
and can never be taken from her.

It Inspires Me

My mind picks
apart certain things
that resonate
with specific rings...

I look at a couple
walking the sidewalk
staring into eyes
without a word of talk.
They gaze upon
the one they love
as peaceful as
two turtle doves.
It inspires me.

The skies are gorgeous,
so full of beauty,
so much so
they can lighten the moody.
They bless me with
ideas abounding
and thoughts of hope
and happiness surrounding.
It inspires me.

A mother talking,
a mother yelling,
she screams and screams
in the telling
but all the while
it's done out of love
and the care she has
that always rises above.
It inspires me.

I look around
just a bit more
for inspiration,
for something I can adore
when I step back
and see this gift
with which God has chosen
to bless me with.
I know I
can only choose
to put it to
the best of use
so that in doing so
I can put other's worries at ease
and, from Him, one day
hear it is me in whom He is well pleased.
THAT inspires me.

The Crash

Going so frantically,
mind running manically,
heart starts pounding
without reserve.
Body does quiver,
impossible to be quicker,
begins feeling sicker,
unable to be preserved.
The crash inevitable,
after pedal to the metal
with a soul all but impenetrable,
the soul passes out.
All hope lost
with every paid cost
as peace once sought
is known nothing about...
when suddenly there's a flash!

As if a voice is speaking
directly to my soul,
He tells me only He
can fill the void, the hole.
He tells me about
my own struggles
no one else knows
nor with which would be troubled.
He informs me what
I should have known:
I can't do this myself
whether or not I'm full grown.
When it comes to gaining
that true contentment and peace,
I am still an infant
who can only crawl on my knees
but He, my eternal Father,
carries me through
a wilderness in which
there is nothing I can do
as He feeds my soul
along the way
until I can stand
on my own that day.
He instills in me the peace
I pined, I beckoned for
and informs me I will
be good for so much more
as only with His support
can I make it through this
daily earthly grind
without being pecked by death's kiss.
My Lord has me
in His hands at all times,
the knowledge providing
this ultimate peace of mine.