New School Prayer
Now I sit me down in school
Where praying is against the rule
For this great nation under God
Finds mention of Him very odd.
If Scripture now the class recites,
It violates the Bill of Rights.
And anytime my head I bow
Becomes a Federal matter now.
Our hair can be purple, orange or green,
That's no offense; it's a freedom scene.
The law is specific, the law is precise.
Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.
For praying in a public hall
Might offend someone with no faith at all.
In silence alone we must meditate,
God's name is prohibited by the state.
We're allowed to cuss and dress like freaks,
And pierce our noses, tongues and cheeks.
They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the Bible.
To quote the Good Book makes me liable.
We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen,
And the 'unwed daddy', our Senior King.
It's "inappropriate" to teach right from wrong,
We're taught that such "judgments" do not belong.
We can get our condoms and birth controls,
Study witchcraft, vampires and totem poles.
But the Ten Commandments are not allowed,
No word of God must reach this crowd.
It's scary here I must confess,
When chaos reigns the school's a mess.
So, Lord, this silent plea I make:
Should I be shot; My soul please take!
Amen
-by unknown
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Power Plug by Me
Power
Plug
Runnin and racin
Through the matrix of all these
Screens, monitors, effects, designs, desires,
fantasies
Of technology digging into the eyes that God
originally created
In me to be Cross-Eyed
Running the race of greed and power
Down the trail of tv screen snow
All these things all these wants
All these electrons and terrorbites
Covering my flesh and digging into my ears like
ticks and termites
Turning the Earth that used to be all natural
Into a motherboard with all of us as humans
Slowly evolving as we follow the technologic
patterns
Transforming into the type of human the enemy
Wants us to become as human robots
With the motto of “A people that stand for
nothing,
who will fall for anything”
Until the day and time that Eternity Himself
Pierces the skies of the technological balloon
And breathes the power plug out of its outlet
And shocks it, fusing it back into play, back
into sight
Having us breathe in the air filled with the
aroma of
His very own Kingdom
From Shackles to Muscle by Me
"From Shackles to
Muscle"
So many years having to sit
within the perimeter of the picture frame of religion
Every Sunday having to sit in
the the wooden box
So long my ears bearing the pain
of gossip and after critique
With shackle weights to weigh
down my hands and feet
Only assigned to speak as a
unified sound to every hymn and recitement
I feel myself trapped in a
photograph of black and white
I love you God, you know I love
you as a Father, but why "this"
I pull and break off one of the
chains of my hand and you unlocked the rest
you opened the doors to a land
transferring me to an open canvass of temporary escape
showing me the glimpse of
freeness, unitement, and relationship
no structure with plenty of
spectral hue, just a canvass
Then, as I am walking around in
this land of a painting,
a man of God walks into the room
of the gallery
he looks upon the painting and
says "This painting, should it be framed,
or should this person along with
the people inside it be sculpted and colored
of the abstract hues within
it?"
Within the canvass of the
painting I could not scream my wails of No
God said to the man, knowing he
would pick the strenuous one, "What do you think?"
The man said, "I'll "sculpt"
them. That's what I'll do!"
He requested a copy of the
painting and took it home
Once he got to his house, he
placed it in his garage and uncloaked a tall block of clay
looking at the two, he began to
sculpt
slowly as he worked he spoke to
us in the painting
for so long we had been in this painting able to spin, shout, and play in the Spirit
now, I could feel a pain of
"stretch"
Each day that he got back from
church he would sculpt and recite things I painfully remembered
With each curve of the arm,
every time he would press his hands into the clay of the head or
stomach would cause a painful rage
inside me
His music was always half new
and half hymn
having my mind reach a point of
numbness towards restoration
As he was finally finishing the definition in the arms having finished all the others
he colored the clay with soft
tints of yellow, green, orange, blue
with bold skilled wipes of red
and blue and purple leaving my eyes white and clear
Once he was finished, he stepped
back to see this mass of identity and worship
that he had sculpted with the
elements of discipline and structure I could feel apart of me
Finally, as an act of signature,
he placed his hands on my head saying,
"May ye go forth in vibrant
"knowledge" and "identity" as God's firm and
"colorful" vessel!"
The End
ONE, My Color Everything by Me
ONE
One
pill
One
gleam of the eye
One
song and I wanna go suicide
One
token of love and I would’ve said No
One
friend to stand by and say don’t fall for it
One
second I would’ve still been alive
One
night I ‘ve lost my purity
In
One moment I would’ve still have life within me
One
touch, and life could be breathed into me again
With
One reach of a hand, I’m rescued from attack
+One
man
One
strike for the assaulter, one stripe for the victim
One
strike for the adulteress, one stripe for the cheat
One
curse from the mocker, one step forward for the outcast
One
thorn for your evil thought, one blood of cleansing
That
one mother who kept prayin for the day I’d be saved
One
friend who showed me the High I had been lookin for
One
person who was able to see me with respect when I was hurt
One
person to comfort me when I was covered in shame
One
person who had cleansed my head by his crown of thorns
MY
COLOR EVERYTHING
I am
born
There’s
bright light everywhere
I
can’t, don’t even have the ability to fathom the existence of color
As I
grow I see the color correctors of white, black, and red that
Eventually
become the skins I understand to be as people
For
a while I see colors of fun, interest, curiousity
Soon
my mind takes course down the stairs of grayscale
Into
the trap door light that is darkness absolving myself into nothingness
I
can’t even see my hand in front of my face not even the color waves
That
you alone are able to see of the electrical waves and sounds
that
the enemy uses to distract me
The
more I’m stranded in this darkness the sounds of temporary comfort
and
satisfaction get taken away from me
hearing
only the creaking of doors, slams, shouts and shrieks of help
Then,
I see a lightning strike of red, then another,
all
around I see the flashes of His conquering wrath with the color of His
blood
striking the sense of rebirth in my veins
Suddenly,
the noise and flashes come to a hault
I
heard a bellowing scream of defeat
There’s
a light bulb that turns on with the flick of a finger
All
is white, all is clear, where there is nothing to fear
I
see stairs leading up to a trap door latched open seeing a world of color
I
had never seen before
Of a
golden, glowing energy field full of hues and values like never before
Beyond the Surface
ONE
One earth, one moon
One bride, one descent ion
One resurrection
One return
God doesn't do the things humans are
accustomed to doing in certain cultures.
He has never divorced Earth or sought out
other planets to create a replacement out of
anger of our short comings.
Since the beginning of our existence He has
never given up on us. He's taught, punished,
loved, challenged, and even stood silent before
sending a Son to help redeem us.
But He has NEVER left, because He knows our potential.
He sees the beauty in our physical/geographical appearance.
Our swamps, forests, rockies, shores, vast lands of sand,
green rolling hills, deep dark depths of ocean,
our caves, chilling mountains, the list goes on.
Do you see or or hear earth complain about its appearance? No.
Does the earth have a mirror to look at herself and fret?
One earth, one moon
One bride, one descent ion
One resurrection
One return
God doesn't do the things humans are
accustomed to doing in certain cultures.
He has never divorced Earth or sought out
other planets to create a replacement out of
anger of our short comings.
Since the beginning of our existence He has
never given up on us. He's taught, punished,
loved, challenged, and even stood silent before
sending a Son to help redeem us.
But He has NEVER left, because He knows our potential.
He sees the beauty in our physical/geographical appearance.
Our swamps, forests, rockies, shores, vast lands of sand,
green rolling hills, deep dark depths of ocean,
our caves, chilling mountains, the list goes on.
Do you see or or hear earth complain about its appearance? No.
Does the earth have a mirror to look at herself and fret?
My face is cracked (earthquakes)
I don't like these stretch marks (rivers,waterfalls)
Don't look at my blotches(swamps)
All she has is what God sees in her, and that's more than enough.
And He knows all her needs before they happen.
And He knows all her needs before they happen.
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