Thoughts on daily life wanting eternal insight.


Lonely world
People bored
Anticipation like
A train station
The place I park
The place of a spark

Needed is new transportation
Tracks slide and move north and south, lonely world,
Men working
Women cooking
Cliches burning

Freeways moving around me
World cries out to me,
They say: resurrect and
Redirect the transportation
The car lights and flashing
Red lights, red eyes the
World has from giving it
A stab

Can connection be
The resurrection?
The transporation?

A body like a rental
Soon to cross eternal
With God immortal,

Spirit transported
World made new
A world with you

Being with God is
My guiding rod
My train trek
My freeway getting
My soul shifting

The world lives on
The interstate in a
Fragile state
Travel to the final
Gavel and all will
Be finished

The final transport
I wait, death to sin
And yes to Him

Necessary Steps

This is a combination of the events I had today. Hopefully you can figure out the tensions that take place in one day. I’m turning always to reflect on where I want my heart to be.

Necessary steps

I took today,

Ones over the

Freeway, it took

All day


Hours of sun hitting

My back, hours of

Thoughts in tact


Fire came under

My feet, swept me

Away in an ash

Heap, daily steps

I’ve taken,

Daily stairs I am

Living, black

Screen filled

My space,

People took

Away my face


Crunched and crammed

Under blackened lights

And sounds of frights

My steps were taken

Away as sunset strip

Faded away,


2 and 1/2  hours I forgot

about my dreams, my

complications, all my



the war machine clicked on

fought its battle inside my

chest, painted me a boring

soul, one who did fear

control, but lonely it felt

inside the space of screen

action and dissatisfaction

faces munching and

crunching on goodies

faces darkened without

any light


I texted and sent a great new

Message as the screen did

Fade to black, can you be

Around me just a little

While longer while I wait

To soon be stronger


The greatest crime is now

Wasted time and wasted

Space that demands a

Secret place,


God above counts it not

A crime to be entertained

But does all He can to

Have us close


So lonely I might sit behind

Dark colors for what I really

Want is to know love and

If that can sit with me when

Night is over then my journey

Will never be over


Satisfy me God,

Satisfy me


Soul Digging

Soul digging

For a new kind of living

Moth and rust and all

Sorts of lust creep in

And beckon within,

Try to divide again,

Now warring and

Thundering come

To my attention,

He demands my


Soul digging,

Soul searching

Depths of darkness

Heart a harness

A master at holding

On, a master of

Survival, a King

At getting by,

A reason now

To cry, can

Fullness come

Into this life, and

Defeat the lie,

Can the King make

His reign over this

Life of mine?

Soul digging

Soul finding


Loved, that

Is success,

Let me bask

And boast

In this

Dust And Smoke

To the Sermon On The Mount and a life that wants to be built on the rock of Christ. And to not be held back by the past.

Dust and Smoke

Kicking my feet in the sand

Trying to understand

Years of running

Days of staying


Flame of love once came

And saved the wasted

Space in me, took up a

New secret place in He


Regrets he had over

Having in bad, a trapped

Life he lived stuck by

Stereo sounds and

TV real loud


And upheaval came at

A young age, and wrote a

A new page inside of me,

I lived on the top of the

Stairs, considering all the

Fears, anger rose inside

A child and smoke came

And burned it all away


Oil now, do you have it?

Intimacy, have you grabbed it?

Does your house collect

Dust, does your life have

Lust? Every thought he

Says stays captive in Him

Every word uttered is

Recorded in Him,


Now counsel comes and

Rules me now, have a life

That isn’t shallow or a

Noisy gong that is



Love come and not be dust

Burn away the rust

Cause me to trust

Now I seek to live

On the rocks where

The sand can’t stand

On the land you have




To all the teens that have passed through Kansas City and to all the teens that skate in my neighborhood, this is for you. The song ‘Teenage Wasteland” by The Who ring real loud. For I don’t want to be one that wastes that time I have been given and I don’t want to see a generation wasted away either. Here’s my reflection.


Teenage wasteland cries out from

The ground, there are souls all

Around, their skateboards

Hit the ground, their dreams

Hit the clouds, their memories

Are real loud


The teen and the American dream

Hit me in the chest and take me

To the best places


Hope they need, can they succeed,

Kickflipped they live, hardflipped

Over and over by a world that

Forgets living forever, skaters

Jaded, jeans ripped, sun stripped

With the beach in the purview,

With dreams in the rear view,

Goths and punks, smoke

Smelling of skunks, dried

And tried they are, tired of

Corporate lies, the machine

Doesn’t faze them, the world

Does haze them


For misunderstood they walk

For parenthood is the chalk

That chases and draws the

Dead bodies in the cement

Does it ever occur that these

Kids are the future? The change,

The groove, the point to prove

Or have I lived to long in my

Own waste of time and gadgets

And endless sunsets of days

Gone by, have I been to busy

To see the skaters and the haters

That walk by me daily, hopped

Up on their ipods, hopped up

On drugs, have I become just

As needed as them—in need of

The wasteland to end and life

To begin

To the teens of America

Help me understand these

Gaps I live in



Man whistles
Man drizzles
Like rain, circles
The drain
Doesn’t question
Doesn’t change

Above the clouds does
God sit, in tune with
All tunes, man fades
In and out man does
Shout: where is God when
Nothing good happens

What is God all about
Above the sky daily
Good, daily seeking
Man out

Man whistles in the wind
Man daily sins and says
Instead: should I die or live?
God sits, God speaks
God leaks out mercy
God does this daily

Mercy falls and man draws

Man no longer whistles in the
Wind, man is no longer
Consummed with sin
Man sees God is near
His voice we do hear

Pen down
Arms up
If God is good then
Why are we not

Man stops questioning
And worships instead

Daily Noise

The power of daily prayer.

Daily noise

Blip goes the daily noise
Beep goes the daily noise
Screech goes the tires on
The freeway, smoke goes
The fire on the getaway,
The flame and the sound
Come together now
As daily living is always
Endless giving

I’m seeking for perfection
Beep goes the money machine
Cha ching makes us sting
Heaven sees and sings
The smoke of the past
The flame of the future

Around His throne is daily noise
The prayers filling bowls of
Incense, man and his persistance
The smoke of resistance

I seek to make a ruckus
I seek to pray til life changes
My smoke, my noise rises
Daily and for that I stay daily
In a place of His sound
In a place of found

For everyone has a sound
Whether lost or found
The smoke passes and He
Pulls the ashes, a flame of
Noise surrounds the throne
And I stand as a man
Making a ruckus until
He comes

Afternoon Talking

Afternoon talking

Old ladies walking

Old men running

Drive-bye’s of the future

And in reverse everyone

Lives, coffee brown,

Morning frown,

Credit or debit

Paper or plastic

For here or to go

And on and on

It flows


But upstairs there’s an

Invasion coming, there’s

Ears humming and men

Saying: Is He really coming?

White horse in the clouds

Every ear real loud will

Hear , and one afternoon

They will be talking

Of His soon coming

For or against he draws

The fence—in or out,


Don’t be ashamed He’s

Zealous of His name,

All transactions will be emptied

All banks won’t be hefty

Supplies will fade and

Water will be slim for

All things will bow

Down in Him, so until

Then I eagerly wait

I press through mundane

Living, I press on to

His endless giving—

And I wait for His



Separate waves
Separate ways
Separate stays
In seperate days
A decade of talking
And months of walking

Memories of the past
Are here at last, moments
Added up, a lifetime of not
Giving up

What sits in my stomach are
Knots and lots of change
What I see and what I do
Transform me into new

For separate I have lived,
Inside my head has been
My bed, I have lied down
In the place of eruption
I have tasted my own

Now separate from this world
We are death no longer has a
Scar, for to be seperated from
This body is to no longer be
Separate from Him

So I wait for the day when
Separation wont come my
Way and tears and strife
And pain like a knife won’t
Stab at me anymore

I want the day of separation
To come quickly

Warring Man

Warring Man

All the animosity

All the bellicosity

Man has a warring history

The worlds’ of separation,

A soldier generation, one

Army a harbinger of doom,

Gloom, the locust bloom,

Another army of power,

Of authority, riding with

The King to see His glory,

Now man rages and engages

The King, and slaying He will

Bring, bloody fields of Iron

Lined men, war criminals they

Will be, man rages in animosity

Brings out the evil in me

The evil in we, I am no longer

My own pointing at my

Comfortable home, I to

Rage against His ways

Succumb to the warring

Days, but now I keep it

Simple, I keep it true

Help me see you anew

And stop the raging—

For you are good!