Category: ihop
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