Meaning Behind the Prose and other Memorial Thoughts

The last few months has been a very prolific time of writing a lot of my stream of consciousness flow of poetry. This blog has had many aspirations in forms of video, some stories, mostly essays and movie/film reviews but out of about 1900 posts now at least half of those has been poetry. I am a huge fan of myself. And does it get anymore self-centered than that? Yes, it can and yes, it can.

I am a huge fan of myself through the lens of God’s saving grace. It is much more than just a one time thing when we embrace Jesus. Our lives tell the story. As Paul says in 2 Cor. 3-‘you are our Epistle!’ I am the living epistle of Christ and all He has done in me. My brothers and sisters in Christ, so are you. The greatest testimony to the world is our love for each other. When people can see committed healthy friendships and healthy loving this point in the world that says a lot about the God we love.

I am a huge fan of the journey. A lot of what you have been reading the last couple of months has been about living on this earth and knowing that you are made for another world but that world is going to stay on the earth in the form of a ‘new earth!’

C.S. Lewis( who gets quoted more than any other person I know) said, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” Of course anyone can read this and think that anything on this earth really doesn’t matter so I can do what the gnostics and Greek thinkers did and disregard this creation we live in. NO!

The Apostles desired to be present with the Lord..they had such an intense expectation of heaven, yet it was their focus on eternity that enabled them to “enter the Kingdom with much tribulations!”

The line, ‘the earth is now, the earth is future, the earth is not going anywhere’ just makes sense to me that today matters and so does the future hope of restoration and so does an established truth that the earth is not going to disappear or explode. This is not the season four finale to Lost where Mr. Linus moved the disappears and ends up somewhere we were all really, really lost after that.

I am being a little funny but nonetheless eternity has been in my mind. We have so much emphasis on how to live today and how to pull God’s blessings into our lives right now but is that really it? Is the purpose of life to make a checklist of presents we want for Christmas and one by one God sends someone in the form of a man to deliver them to us? Is the incarnation just about gifts?

I am actually insulted by the false cookie cutter euphemisms that we champion as “the Gospel” that really just sound like a five year old getting told that Christmas morning is coming really soon and you better be good or else Santa might skip you this year. Yet, the heart behind the gift giving has more to do with how I behave in order to “receive” something. Yes, ‘we have received every blessing in Christ Jesus’ and Ephesians is an incredible book on who we are in Christ, but I think we mistake God’s blessings with earthly provision. Yes, God does provide for us so in that sense we are always to be grateful. Jesus commanded us ‘do not worry about your life’ and also says, ‘is not life more than..’physical’ things. But as followers of Christ it seems much more sound to say that before the gifts came to us the ultimate gift of Christ atoning for our sins was to be given to the world. What then was the point of Abraham almost killing his Son out of his unrelenting obedience to God? We see that God was testing his faith but God was also getting humanity ready for Christmas. God was getting the world ready for the ultimate gift in the closest form possible. Jesus as a man. Jesus as fully man and fully God. Hear gratitude in these poems and in these posts. I don’t want to relish in how much life can suck but you do have to embrace that. I want to relish in this unwavering faith in God’s goodness no matter the newscast, no matter the Drudge Report.

If you have heard the idea in the last couple of months that life is not always what we think it should be, then you are hearing correctly. I transpose the past into a lot of things so sometimes it doesn’t make sense. Here’s what I mean: “Ink from coldplay plays on repeat—” Yes, this song is so good right now and I don’t know why but I just listen to it and probably in writing but the next line is a childhood image on middle school and high school relationships: “All those past lovers, past flings, past heart strings plucked and thrown in the gutter, was it better?Was it worse? Or did I never know true love first?”

I think I want to change the world and I don’t really believe it sometimes. The other main idea here is love. Skyscraper love was from thinking about tall buildings and how the one time I went to Times Sqaure it seemed so insane how high up those buildings could go but the clouds, the darkness and the things in the air could blur the Skyscraper and the skyline. I wrote: “a city life is scary, A club drug is passed down to me, who drank this before? Come out of her it says, out for good, a shout for short, a proclamation for long!” The idea that we have built altars around sin and death and have called it ‘just having fun’ is sickening to God but heartbreaking more than anything. Our role as followers of Christ is not to point out people’s addictions( when we have our own too) but to do Ephesians 5( a passage I’ve been in for a couple of months). We walk as children of light and in this walk we expose the darkness by the way that we walk.

Memorial Day is more than just honoring the troops. It should also be a reminder of man’s identity crisis. When man does not know who he is, he is prone to violence. I don’t say this to make a trite statement against the military. It is not a small thing. I just made a presentation last week on PTSD and the treatment options in them. In the research I watched videos on these therapy sessions with those who fought over seas. It was very eye opening and something I can’t connect to. But I also want to cut through the sentiment sometimes and turn the camera on the person doing the filming. I love war movies and I hate them at the same time. I realize that my ethical compass gets broken when I see what I am seeing. Even films that add humor to mask the rather death like tendencies of war still work it for you and make you question your birthplace. I don’t understand war but I do make a RUCKUS about the Gospel. Their is something far scarier than war coming onto the planet. A great shift. The line in poems for me is “the great rearrange/ a rearrange.” Jesus returning to the earth will start the greatest war the world has ever known and it will be more severe then anything we have ever seen. Can we face this warrior Jesus and embrace his perfections and trust in His leadership?

I.S.I.S. is not our enemy. Islam is not the enemy. Though the expression in the extremists is gnarly and has yet to really interrupt our comfortable lives the forces of evil will make I.S.I.S. look like a high school shooting rather then World War 3. We love violence. We love Mass Effect and Call to Duty and Grand Theft Auto and everything and anything that has to do with blowing heads off people. For men its a disgusting perversion of how we are meant to fight and meant to war but for love. We are God’s warriors not just warriors. I don’t give a crap about trying to be tough and study how cool weapons are and how fun hunting can be( I am not slamming that) but their is a difference between thinking just being a man is being tough, violent and that you know about guns and engines. False love and false war is in us and upon us. The war against porn is in tandem to the war on false war. Why else would Jesus put anger and lust right next to each other in His Sermon on the Mount. Memorial day is about honoring those who have suffered but anything that is suffering apart from Christ just in turn is the creation worshiping itself. You will die in your sorrow without Jesus. I remember mercy and love but I do not support false masculinity. I honor and respect what the troops have done but I realize a more home front battle is being fought and it is over what the man is. A man is to be conformed to Christ and to be like Him in every way and which of our lives.

Let us remember our warrior King, King Jesus.

Away With

In the pursuit is passion and disappointment and pain that takes you from ‘glory to glory!

Night rider

Mercy collector,

Forgery affair—blacksmith of a

Duty, flame set in front of me—thought

Of You all summer long, under those shade

Trees was the delicacies that couldn’t be

Dealt with—

Rightly is where I should be but

Here is where I am—sunset lover,

Waiting to discover,

Dark shadows in the softest of lies,

Orange for safety,

Beach fires, sanded sides of

This ship, going down seems to be

Going around,

Up a little, down a lot, darkness without

Light can never be fought,

Gifts are caught,

But love is taught-

Early I seek, no excuses for the

Meek–the earth is now, the earth

Is future, ruling with secrets inside

Mission statement up for payment,

Early departure requires Your signature—

Death is not ready to take me,

Though we are always ready to be

With You, its not a rapture, its not a

Taking away with, its not a debate anymore—

Its how I live that matters—the end is near

When I want it to be, today is the day for

Pursuit, for answers, for a part of you that

Can never be happy—you made those same

Changes, wrote it on stages, lived in the sages

Of old—love makes you not rhyme sometimes—

I am high above the darkness that used to consume

Me—blood over it, flooded for it,

Vultures used to hover, for I was made to

Discover what it is worth to live

And what it will cost to stay there

Abundance in Joy, but not always in

Materials, abundance in love but not always

In things feeling easier.

End Is Near, Pain Is Here

Blind men get stuck
Decrease the increase that
Could come to me,
I drift, I count the dents
In space that you make
To get my attention,
I am alive, I am here,
I am near Your voice,
It’s an alcohol trash can
Next to me, it’s a deflated
Gravity, it’s an electric city,
I am dull on lights, dull on the
Bright’s that used to come to me,
I was alive when I was young
Now youth has rotted out,
It’s purity was to me pure but
Now I am not really sure
Poverty is a gift for it unwraps
The riches we think we have—
It stays fragile, it stays frugal,
Yet I think I have everything
Because I have no enemies—
Because I can carry my bible
Around this town—
Electric man, please light up
The crisis that is ahead of me,
The collision of a collusion that
Won’t be stopped until all is covered
In righteousness,
Alkaline dreams, nicotine seams to
Stitch me up, to now sew me a new
Garment of righteous—
The end is near,
But am I ready?
Or has pain overtaken me?

Protected Expectations

This is an older reflection on wanting to understand God’s end-time plan(s).

For Orange has been
The color they have worn, and John Wayne has truly sworn to never really meet me but to only great me, near Terminal C where the world of wine does approach me, and collisions in me do bring a sense of orange safety, the color of protection, does come to me gently, and all this life I’ve been searching for connection, and

To long now does Facebook disappoint that necessity, and daily does
call out to me, so now I place it in your hands, the times and truly the Sands, the waves and that which I cannot control, the verbs and the wind, The people that bring some corruption, Hollywood and her wild ways, and All the nights that feel like
Days, so no more waiting at the top of the stairs, now waiting for change,
Now waiting for conversation, now Lord my actions follow me, the world Does have its time, but now Lord I wait on you, for a new view, a new
Earth, a new reason
Behind this berth, a new reason to live, a new now focused life ahead,
Does the earth
Get better? Or is the earth just waiting? Am I always stuck in that place called hesitation, and now Lord I wait for the protection, I wait for that
which really
Is hope, for positive is not the prerogative, now false hope is real
destructive, so
Now I wait with a little bit of pain and the appointment of suffering,
and now Lord
Let it be some buffering, and keep me waiting for a man, on clouds
just for a little
Bit, but a tight grip upon that rod of iron, and a scepter in your
hand, Christ at the
Right hand, will now cover the earth in your wingspan, so now Lord I
wait, and put
Away that orange frown, that sense of safety I easily get, but then safety has
Some regret, for you are not safe that is for sure, but good you are
that is a fact
So Lord I wait, and hope in what is real, and wait some more for your return

Its Time Son

Thoughts on the end of the age.

Its Time Son

Pass the baton,

Bring on the eschaton,

Shake what needs to be

Shaken, forgive the

Forgiven as they carve

Out a rainbow in the sky,

As they ask you why,

As they hide under the

Hood of self-good,

They hated the flood

Now they hate your

Return, for rocks have

Fallen and men cry out,

Is this what judgment

Is all about? For wrath

Meets mercy and kisses

With justice, man rages

And always fusses, more

Time does He give to

The one who says God

Is just, God has won!

The fool sits in the pool

Of disbelief and God

Shows us He is relief

He gives mercy, always

Pass the baton, bring on

The eschaton, but before

Then—show us mercy!

The Dead


The Dead

7 years to bury the dead

Ezekiel said, tempted to not

Live in the red but past what he said

Red line overload, enthralled in the road

Of this long narrow bath, ready for wrath to

Smack into mercy and come and test me

Bloody fields, his sword yields, white horses

Names unknown but the world exposed and

Expunged for justice will come but not with

Pleads with a deaf world but simply by truth

And purpose, He will not faint, nor be discouraged

In His pursuit of me, He will not fail in saving

From Hell, He will make well but first trouble

Will come and I will be tested and sifted and

The age shifted, the sword on my neck will

Test this wreck, suffering not just for the Lamb

But those live in His hands, blood spilled will

Not be rare, the Lion is not separate from the lamb

And he will surely overcome and kill enemies in

The way, let the dead rise for its just and good,

Let Him not fail, as 100 pounds of hail reign down

Around me now, raptured away, not today

Because he’s given me something to say,

So boldly I will suffer and say it without

Compromise longing for the dawn at the


The Standard

The Standard


All day long I have

Held out my hand to

A disobedient and

Contrary people,

They don’t choose

Stained glass and

Steeple, I hear Him

Ripple, treading the

Winepress, He’s a

Defender of righteousness,

A killer of wickedness,

Faithful to confess to us

Redemption and a fighting

Hand in Armageddon,

Blood piling a mountain’s

Climb, I hinge my

Rhythm to His kingdom,

Seeking first a closed fist

He commands us to let go,

How scary to glow in the

Dark world, how salty

We must be for others

To see that they are

Loved, I respond with

Held out hands back to

Dad, I give Him everything,

For that is the standard,

Death has no sting.