Beat Misery

Callin out for the lost, but the lost causes repeat it.  Call droppin back down on me, I’m callin back out for healing. Callin for backup breathin.  Screamin like babies teethin.  Lungs collapsing like London Bridges and black freedom.

Give me the toughest level, blind me, tell me to beat it. I see it- the intricate conspiracy to rip from me my courage, and stir up the grave like horses, allow my fears to flourish.  But I don’t actually have fears, I shot em all in the head.  These things that are assaulting me, are zombie, they’re really dead.  They’re coming for my life. To pull me into the night. To take their heart of darkness and supplant my heart of light.

I wake with warm thoughts, but cold soul.  Tight walking through the air with no rope.  This faith gave me everything, so I give em a show. But these stunts, are not performances of pointlessness, this story is how I pointedly see and articulate my hope.

But when the crowd leaves, guess who’s the fallen tree- me. Shakin not stirring kryptonite give Superman a drink- geez. Didn’t I just save the world? Pour my life out for the boys and girls? Sanctify these women, restore men to the spiritual?

I don’t want the credit, and I sure don’t want no glory.  I’m cursed by the plague of Moses- leading my people to the promise, by wandering around slowly.  This is war, and I fight. In the face of death, I give life.  Yet when depression hits all I do is roll over on my side…

Daily given the opportunity of strengthening the inner me, but one way or another I’m starting to think-

You just can’t beat misery.

Advertisements

The Problem of Irritation

God never really left a clue about what to do with irritation.

A little less than anger, but considerably more than “in bad spirits.”

Irritation is that bastard child of rage and bitterness that takes a shallow root that grows ever deeper, lest it is uprooted…

And the deeper it goes- the sweeter it gets..

And the sweeter it gets- the more you begin to resemble it like Olsens.

And God left nary a clue.

Do not murder!!

I can do that.

Do not commit adultery!!

I can do that too.

Do not covet!!

Done deal.

Each of the remaining seven are all geared up towards Heaven, and becoming saturated on holy satiation, but none of those explicit details gives the least bit of insight on how to deal with irritation.

Irritation….

That sly, cunning, shifting, slithering, dark entity burrowing from a dwelling of ignorance into your heart…

And it pains.

Idly threatening to consume, but at the same time, being all too real….

I guess…

I mean- I suppose…

Maybe God didn’t give rules on irritation…

Maybe I’m supposed to make my own.

**

~The Wordsmith

Dark Heart Emcee

I hate the great, I break the gate to the lake
And drown these flippin clowns like ice in kool-aid
My heart of darkness sparks this, mark this
Spot, because my rage is the point of my gaze
Focused on the focal point, ready to tip your axis
I’jm a hater and I’m proudly revoking all your passes
You barking like a mastif, lobo, fraggin bastich
As if, amassing the masses in Mass is
A masterful plan to get me back in my classes
But now, I’m the principal.  I.  Am.  The principal.
Time outs, take your gameboys, sit back poppin my steroids
I’m an air boy… I mean airborne toxin
These words I spit are toxic, but they keep a body rockin
Landslide right into your coffin, you dancin while I’m just scoffin
I’m a parasite in your noggin, the cloggin, clockin floppin
Flippin your world straight upside down, word to Brown, look at me now

**
~The Wordsmith

Anti Cupid

Are you waiting on me to do something?

Perhaps call you specifically by name…

*

I joke and I play, and offer my umbrella

But you turn away and leave me in the rain

*

I feel your eyes, like a sniper’s sights

But you never take the kill shot

*

Strike me down with your love

Let us resurrect a marriage

*

I used to believe that a good heart sufficed

I used to believe that light could repulse the night

*

But then I encountered you and your kind

So declarative, yet unable to make up your mind

*

Smiles, hugs, and flirty eyes

But then you just wave and let me pass by

*

I am perplexed above all and plagued by my want

If I had my choice – the notion of love I would have willingly forgot

*

However, stuck in this dimensions I am

Your ever changing emotions, leavin me greener than eggs and ham

*

So I shrug

It’s all I can do

*

Try and find something worthy to tune into

Some nourishment that will distract from the primary food group – you

*

I no longer know what it is you are expecting of me

Heart, compassion, empathy, integrity – I have all of these

*

Only conclusion?

Despite your claims, you’re not looking for me

*

I believed you were, which resulted in so low me

And now – it’s just solo me

**

~The Wordsmith

Trying To Quit

The challenges that press you to maintain faith are not verification that you’ve given it up…

 

I’m feeling strange, my ambition is different…

I was crushed today, then I sprang back to life shiverin…

My normal reaction is to be down and out…

But today I wasn’t – what was that about…?

I was mad, I was irritated, doubts were in my mind…

Wanted to cuss, settled to fuss, no silver lining this time…

But in spite of all that, my resolve did not fall flat…

Tortured by the Gospel – nothing else helps, so I must cling to that…

Despite my reservations, and my table of quit waitin…

Drove right on by that establishment, to a place that served only Wine…

Clinking their glasses together, the ring of the Divine…

Inside myself I would not sip, but yet my hands moved glass and bottle…

“A Toast,” they all said.  “A toast to keep our faith, and any contrary force hollow.”

 

The challenges that press you to maintain faith are not verification that you’ve given it up…

 

 

 

 

 

~The Wordsmith