60 Days:Windy

City to me,
Come forward with me.
Standing for you,
Sitting feels to new.
I texted, I messaged, I said I would
Never live like this again.
Friday in L.A.
That hasn’t been the way.
Hotels for you,
Hotels with you.
Living out of the end of the
New.
I am ready for city.
Ready for windy.
Cause safety,
You remember
Safety? We ditched
That a long time ago.
Caught up in the net.
Feeling the regret.
All the miles on the ten
for you.
All the miles back and forth
With the wishing and the
Wishing.
Sat with the upstate,
Sat with the hesitate.
Can’t see you happy.
Can’t see you new.
Can’t keep playing these videos
Like they were the only creative
I ever knew.
Its beats, baby.
And the windy city
That has me.
I came out here to hide.
I came in here to burn for
You.
Now you want a spin,
Now you want to spiral again.
Take me with you,
Cause at least that’s
Better than the upstate,

The Mattress

Trying to wait for it,

Trying to save up for it,

Moments without those moments,

And memories of future,

The linen is spinning,

And clean at last,

If I waited what would happen?

Dirt is building,

From all the mudding,

Inside I am climbing,

I am climbing for you,

I am climbing to You,

I am asking new,

I see green lights,

I see no more waiting,

I see fake profiles,

I see fake messages,

I see beauty without

Heart and tattoos with

No meaning,

I see love as a stage,

I see love as a phase,

I see love like it is a daze,

You can try and wait for it,

You can try and save up for it,

Moments without those bad

Moments or better or the

Worst,

Cause this mattress has been

Here to long,

I love being away cause I can’t

Go back to my home,

The place where rest is

Forced on me,

And the past is presently

Sleeping with me,

You waited up for me,

But I am not anymore,

I see it as a stage,

I see it as a step,

I see it as another leap

To take,

One that has a lot of

Mistake

Raised, Pt. 2

What you want,

Is what you can’t find,

Cause sun was always on the

Hide,

It was always on the rise,

You made some light,

You carried it tight,

Locked, and surely

Never right,

Tomorrow the shades are getting

Darker,

The purity is burning away

With all the vile things love

Can say,

I wanted to go there to,

Down and up,

And moving towards the shameless

Role I knew you could always play,

I was raised to hunger,

I was raised to wonder,

I was raised to stay under

The covers,

And ask you now?

Can you stay there,

Can you be the one to

Stop this madness,

I was raised with a pure dream,

Now its just a nightmare to

Stay asleep,

These eyes are bright for

You,

Made light for you,

It could kill me soon,

To see you to soon,

To swallow some stars

Without the moon,

I too had to start somewhere,

Raised in pieces,

Still picking them up,

Raised to see,

And that is the

Next part,

Actually seeing..

Sermon At My Church

I got to preach last month at our Sunday night service. Got to speak on Righteousness. It has been such a blessing being at New Life in Pomona. I love this place! Thank you Cody, Craig and Billy.

How to Help your Kids with Depression

My mom has helped me so much over the years be more than just a default I need your help parent but has been my rock and my friend. Just like the into the light video this is the start of a series of videos tackling depression. My mom talks about what a parent can do. Filmed where it all went down in Laguna Niguel at Salt Creek beach.

Continually

16“Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me.Isa. 49:16

Covered in ink, tattooed for glory

But should I show it? Something to remember You—

How the summer was never meant for adventure but

How it has come to that—do I make money off of this

Reflection? Probably not but the worth is in the wait—

This tent is for rent and I keep repeating that—this body

Is more broken then yesteryear, then the love way down there

Below the sea where no one can see—

Killjoy for this party called hanging out, called games and toys

And loud noises—but without love I am a no show just like

Those who once said yes, who once gave their best, where are they

Now?

Now I am covered in ink, it makes me think—

Something to remember Your mercy—

Hide us, run from us! The wrath is here to stay,

The lamb slain is here to stay—

I am a doubting kind of man, a hollow right hand seems

To swoop down upon me—I just have words and memories—

Those bright hallways, that half caffeinated waiting room,

That circular observatory, those hallways of glory, those

Daily take downs, those card game labors, those in between

Friends that sat on the curb with me,

Colored red for emergency, but isn’t mercy

The urgency? It hurts leaving some behind, leaving

To a new city to hide behind—

Like the ink I carry I will not forget those friendships

For they will be with me forever and in forever we

Will continue, for aren’t we apart of that continuing

City, will You build my walls continually—the right ones,

The bright one’s, the loveless adventures in the fluorescent

Sunrise, in this plastic city called reality—it is here, it is now,

But I wait for You continually, ready to call this place Your

Home

Forgery

Forgery affair

Stacks of I don’t care

Windows back to that

Summer of lack

Poverty stricken

Plastic driven

White box detox

Memories of the first time

I saw You,

Memories of the redo

Of the slick backed hairdo

Super cut, in the gut, it lives

And moves and finds it being in

Me

The undo button

Became a glutton

For love smitten

Is the sanded side of

The ship—the one with

Power is the one this hour!

Down I go, lower to the floor

Here on God’s great dance floor!

I am alive, there is no turning back

You have forged in me a new me

One that can never be the same—

He who looks back is not fit for

This invisible kingdom—

Suffering I say for the man that

Does not sway—keep me, bind me

But I will not stay in the middle—

I will live for You

Think Tank

I can’t think in the think tank

Shark fangs and wolf fins

Aren’t we just animals if we

Had no hearts? Gold and glitter

And strips of those memories—furiously

In love with distraction,

But I see yellow on your face,

I see that you want bright to set

You right—city of dreams, city

Of sun, city of humid, find me a cupid,

Call me stupid for looking for acceptance—

Dark and light is the final fight

I am wrong about being right

I am wrong about trusting everything

You hear, I am far away from the closest

Place I could ever be,

Ever be, ever be next to me,

I am burning up and the tightrope

Is giving up, park nights, angry fights,

Another mother sacrificed again,

Another lover disappeared again,

Another day to write it anew,

All I know is mercy for it has

Made me thirsty—think tank

No more, thoughts now hit the floor—

Shark fangs for that sin that so easily

Splits me—think tank no more of a prank

Than a set-up—my thoughts need You

Probably Not

Its been some time since I’ve explained meaning behind the prose. Of recent I’ve received a lot of new followers. I love and appreciate that a lot! I am really encouraged by the interaction with those in the wordpress world. Of any piece of writing style on this blog poetry has received the most attention.

This particular poem is putting together cynicism at the past and the body of Christ. The optimist in me believes in a lot of people and movements and my current church echoes of a cry for “revival!” But sometimes when you have heard one message with the same bullet points it becomes questionable not because of the information but because of the lack of transformation. Its mostly on me actually. Yes, leaders are accoutable more than “followers!” but who stands before the Judgment seat of Christ? How many parables point to leaders? Not many. Whether a wise virgin or a foolish one or whether you are a wheat or a tare or whether you are a coward and bury your talent in the sand we all stand before Christ. And its a one on one conversation.

How many things do we need to listen to that are not the bible. Maybe I am young but it seems like its a money maker to be “prophetic.” I have no interest in attending some flighty prophetic conference that will give a lot of words that I could have just googled. I am not picking a side or am in a position to criticize but what is the truth? And who is responsible for finding it out. ALL OF US. Its not on one person or one church or one leader. Its on you.

Sometimes there is no other way

Sidewalk chalk with His body on the pavement

Son of Man that made the payment,

Blood spilled dreams now fulfilled in You

Furiously free and never at ease,

Backyard talks with the sun free of charge,

Who am I without the tabernacle?

Who am I away from that place?

Blue floor turned to gray,

Millions that see it every day,

Trouble with your interpretation

For it seems like the only way to look

At things is the gnostic things,

The inner knowing from all the

Pressing, from all the dressing

Seems fake sometimes that no

One really has the answer,

Seems like a form cause there’s

Little power,

Fear of being wrong is worse

Then being right,

I am not young anymore,

I’ve hit the books like the rest

Of them,

I’ve hit the floor like the rest

Of them,

I’ve been through suffering

At the edge of dying,

At the piling up shame and

Regret,

Guilt has killed me worse then

Murder, worse then lust,

Worse than girls and going

Much to far—

Self righteous is a warning

From the man that had all

The sex and wisdom needed

To be a man,

False is not wrong information

But manipulation in the power

That you have  been given,

Gentiles know nothing of

Being Jewish and we might

Never know what it is like to

Be bombed at everyday,

Who’s right? Probably no

One—who’s wrong? Probably

Everything I say and think—

Who is worthy? Not me,

To even speak?

To even talk of Holy things?

To even say that prayer is always

The answer is as good as curing

Cancer—its not an answer when

Someone is suffering,

So I am sick of church

Sick of the seats,

Sick of the liars next

To me, sick of all the probably

Messengers that have nothing

To really say,

Sick of language that is

Perverse, that is false but

Dressed up like righteous.

Most of all I am sick of me,

Sick of fear,

Sick of regret

Sick of looking at the cross

And not being changed—

Worthy is a worthless

Word to a lazy man that

Will not live different

Worthless is a show in the

Name of being different

Worthless are the bullets that

They fire, for I will not accept

Another’s calling when I am

Standing before Him,

No one really will matter then

But how I treated the confusion

And the cynicism, that is the greatest

Test of all

Rewarder

Caffeine tower

Empty lighter

Cigarette full of empty

Something to say has always haunted me

Talker, fast walker, a use to be runner

Sunny side up on those eggs

Dark shadows like bags to carry

Roads real scary for those that want

No fear—worthy is a worthless word

Without the work of not being sure—

Effort is a slave to the peace it takes

To please You, never a yoke without

A stroke, never rest without nights of

Regret for time spent on paying rent—

Is money my curse when I don’t have

A purse to fill with empty pennies?

Questions with no answers is my cancer—

I will answer them in due time

But until then I will sacrifice

The caffeine, the sugar, the lean

And the fat and the news that You

Reward those who seek You, its in

Your hands—the rewards that You

Have