(Theology Poem) Your Blood, My Sins

YOUR BLOOD, MY SINS

 

Lord, You bled and You died, for all the likes of me

My body and my Soul that was so filled with sins

Lord my only doubts has been my worthiness of Thee

Riches I have never sought yet in darkness I still walked

With Your love, Your blood, all barriers You’ve broken

 

Lord, Your Eyes, You have set upon the likes of me

Lord Your Blood does baptize both heart and Soul

My fears are diluted in Thy Holy Heart and Blood

I fear not this life nor the death that is soon to come

For my sins are washed in the Holy Blood of the Son

(Humor Poem) You Picked A Fine Time To Leave Me George And Bill

You Picked A Fine Time To Leave Me George And Bill

 

You picked a fine time to leave me George and Bill

I got 40 acres of weed ready and waiting to be cycled

We still got eight big orders we gotta work to get filled

Got the eight ton for Willie and twenty ton more

That gotta git to Uncle Hillary and Aunt Billie to fill

 

I find you here at the Pink Feather drinking together

Under the next table I see Donald and Mikie romancing

Laid out on the dance floor twenty Republican Senators

This happens when they drink Jim Bean and Mr. Collins together

Guess love of liquor is why they don’t admit to sucking on weed

 

Without you George and Bill I got real big problems with those orders to fill

Two ATF Agents swinging in the basement, but what of their replacements

What if they won’t be bribed with Pink Teddie’s and a ton of medicinal Red Hair

Do I hang them in the closets with the Priests who brought their boy toys to preach

George and Bill, you can play righteous once we get this years crop out of the field

 

 

 

(Poem: Theology/Philosophy) With Power Comes Dreams And Night Terrors

With Power Comes Dreams And Night Terrors

 

Kings like all people do dream dreams

Therein their Spirit is often much troubled

Their sleep and their conscience is tainted

Yet, can a King demand to be enlightened

 

Leaders can summon their Magicians and Sorcerers

Yet when they stand before the throne can they see

Do they know what the King in His dreams has seen

Can the night terrors of Power ever truly be explained

 

What can be done if the King is terrorized by a forgotten dream

Can forked tongues give enlightenment to what they have not seen

Frauds and Sorcerers, can you see your own end written on the wall

Are there truly Leaders, Magicians or Sorcerers worthy of great honor

 

Yet, shall that which is good be thrown into the fire if it has not been tried

A crazed Ruler shall punish all because of His own errors, ego and arrogance

He who lies to all and contradicts Himself leads His people to be slaughtered

The terrors of the night bring enlightenment to a Leader of wisdom and a conscience

 

 

 

 

 

(Love Poem) Love Is A State Of Mind

 

Love Is A State Of Mind

 

Love it is said is controlled by the heart

I believe such words are just a human metaphor

The heart controls the blood that goes to ones mind

It also controls the blood to a mans secondary brain

Yet, is it true that only women have a stone cold heart

 

When we’re in love why can we then act like such a fool

Yet, if in love will we truly protect to our last heart beat

Who would not give their life for that of spouse or child

Would a true man who is in love really ever strike his wife

Love, like hate takes up residence in the caverns of the mind

 

One does not fall out of love because their wife gained 20 pounds

Does our love depend on the size of an organ or of a bank account

Can love go to despising the ground on which your spouse stands

Love, like hate, faith and sex appeal are all in the canyons of our brain

When we say we’re in love, do we even have a clue what were talking about

(Philosophy Poem) Eight Times Dead

Eight times dead

 

Nine lives like a cat

When we are born

We awake with a slap on the ass

When we close our eyes last

Was our life a nightmare or a dream

 

 

Two times drowned, going out going down

One torch from Heaven to touch the bones

Cut stem to stern the ticker to fix

Four other times visited by the light

When your heart stops its clicks

 

 

At the tender age of three years

These visions I began to see

Visions only with words while deep in sleep

Molested by babysitters teen age son

Later that day, the first time, the vision I see

 

 

A Lord’s Angel the visitor in the sun

If I chose to live my life for the Light

At the young age of eleven years

Shown the death I would be unworthy of

 

Murdered by the heart filled with evil

An honorable way to live and to die

Eight times dead in this life I’ve given

Like a cat, the ninth time will I die

(Spiritual Poem) An Old Poet’s Prayer

AN OLD POETS PRAYER

 

Here I sit with my pen in my hand

Pondering deep inside myself a prayer

Praying to our Lord, Father, and King

How to write poetic words to You again

 

On my own there is nothing I know

I pray my Lord for rhyme and flow

Please guide my hand my heart in song

Please put Your words in order on my tongue

However in your eyes Lord you wish them flow

 

I pray that all of the words I ever write Lord are yours

I pray Your Spirit Lord is holding my hand like braille

Please tell my thoughts where they should start and let off

Poetic talent can take your shoestrings and uses them to choke you

With the Spirit of The Lord firmly in your Soul there is no earthly prison

 

Son stretch out your mind and write of the things you care about

If the Spirit of God shines within you your poems will may be of light

The darkness of a Poe or a Whitman, were they from a dark soul as well

Bright smiles often hide the dagger or gun up the sleeve as will tell

Careful how you spin your tales remember your spouse married low

 

Lord please excuse the dust upon my hand, my heart, my Bible and my brain

Your power and your wisdom Lord are above my level of knowledge or sight-plane

Through your kindness of your Spirit I always pray you guide my every breath

A heart filled love and with gratitude for Your Spirit to be shared with my Soul

I and my poetry Lord are filled with stumble, yet please accept this old poets prayer

Amen

 

 

 

 

 

(Philosophy Poem) Thy Father’s Son

THY FATHER’S SON

 

The Father loved his youngest above all his children

For in His old age his wife bore him one more son

Jealousy among brothers is rife with anger and pain

Can one speak peacefully to a brother that they hate

 

Can a dream of the younger enrage those with age

The aged, can they respectfully kiss the feet of a babe

If the younger speaks words of visions, do we listen

Is it folly to believe that young will reign over the old

 

Shall the Father and Mother rebuke the words of a child dreamer

If words offend the old should they rise up against the young brother

Age begets wisdom yet some are fools in their own delusional glory

Will not the striking of hands and shedding of blood be punished

 

In jealousy do we sell our own Brethren for a little gold and myrrh

Does the innocent blood on our coats drip upon the feet of our Soul

Will the Stone we cast away become the Master of our own defeat

Love your Brother while you have him, before it is our name in stone

 

(THE IDEA FOR THIS POEM CAME FROM THE BIBLE’S OLD TESTAMENT STORY OF JOSEPH, THE YOUNGEST OF ISRAEL’S SONS) (YOU CAN FIND THIS STORY IN THE BOOK OF GENESIS, CHAPTER #37)

 

(Religious Poem) We Are All Slaves Or Servants

WE ARE ALL SLAVES OR SERVANTS 

 

Slavery we all know is a state of unwanted human bondage

We think we are free because we do not see the bonds or chains

Unlike Libya we do not hear our name called at the auction stocks

Yet, we were all purchased from the womb, a true blood sacrifice

There is a debt that we can never repay already paid for our Soul

 

A gift of all gifts was freely given to break the bonds of Demons

Such a great price paid voluntarily, we were purchased with love

The chains in this life that we put on, we do this unto ourselves

We are all now children of God, yet many still refuse the Grace

The path is wide with many shadows and lies that bring only death

 

The Soul is a gift from God to all and when we lay down it returns

We are all servants to something to someone, one is good, one not

Servants to the Light or slaves to the dark we who choose the side

Faithful servants need no chains nor whips to produce good wheat

Yet the lazy, the ignorant, and the greedy all will fall into Hell’s Pit

(Humanity Poem) What Have We Married

WHAT HAVE WE MARRIED

 

Married at 18, soon had two children to raise

Real life, school never taught me anything

Examples at home only show what not to be

Less than two years in all three up and flew away

Can a heart really ever get over this much pain

 

Do not just marry a great body or an Angel’s pretty face

With a body like a Goddess its easy to make such a mistake

Hell has no fury like a Spouse who wants all of everything

Living on a roof top is better than in a mansion full of hate

When you are married for a paycheck, your life, will change

 

The human body is a Tabernacle, the Guest within means everything

When your married to a Devil they play you for a fool in everything

Yes, sometimes when we marry our Spouse literally can drive us insane

Were we ever really married when the whole event was a lie and a sham

When you marry a hate filled ass, life only gets worse with every rising sun

(Religious Poem) The Spirit Of God-Do We Know Him

THE SPIRIT OF GOD-DO WE KNOW HIM

 

The Apostles tell us of the Father and of the Son

Yet, who is this Comforter of whom they speak

Who can quiet the troubles of the flesh and heart

Our Task Masters beat us and the government thieves

Grafted in as partakers of the promises of Creation

Who can lift the burdens of the heart and the Soul

 

Can our hands still touch the garments of the Lord

Are the Words of God the Sinew of the Soul of a man

When flesh lay corrupted in the dirt are we but sleeping

Do our loved ones understand the Comfort of Your Hand

The Pharisees believed in rebirth yet they were still blind

Is the Kingdom of God-given only to those who possess faith

 

Only through faith can a man truly walk with their Creator

Comfort and strength springs forth only from the Lion of Juda

Can a man find peace with scales baked upon their heart and Soul

No one can do the work of the Lord if we refuse His Comforter

Without faith it is impossible to understand the peace of the Lord

With faith the Spirit of God will indwell the Tabernacle, called man