Prophet’s Cry

Poverty in getting to me
For it’s a force I can’t see
Empty he calls, empty he
Shouts,

Waiting for the road to clear
Waiting for hearts to cheer,
Faith isn’t enough for life is
Rough and requires a theology
Of suffering, cross beam hangs over
Me, do I die daily, do I wait in this
Coffee line, for the world to wake
Me, for Hollywood to take me,

Nineveh cries out from distant
Shores, souls in the valley, myself
In the pit of despair, for whales
Swallow my plan, my pride, my
Nirvana, toss me aside my friends
Would say—for my disobedient
Dissidence is their resistance,
Sign of Jonah speaks right to
The highway, right to the getaway,
Man can’t face God alone, face shone,
Down the mountain great men have
Been—now I am what I am and what
I am cannot see what you are, for I
Have this scar, this road, this pride
Building up—die me I say, its better
God that I disappear, mercy you extend,
Grace you bend—shores of the fallen
Cry for me, call for me, be for me what
I am not for myself—be salvation!

Nineveh is no nirvana but Nineveh
Is the world out there, pointing is
Easy, speaking I can’t do with you
On my side, speak through me,
Die with me Lord, keep me alive
In this dark world—let me not
Underestimate your plans for
The world around me, the plans
For the guilty in me

Prophet Inside

Prophet inside

War outside

Rage of men

Have me in

A loud gong

I’ve been

A noisy man

I am, for love has left

This chest and is looking for rest

Peace I say—where is it?

Now I know my own

Sudden destruction, it going

It blowing, a bounty in the county

Man looking for acceptance

Does the prophet get

Resistance or without love

Are we speaking it

For culture bends and

Breaks around the words

Spilt in the pages but

I seek to know

What will I say

When the wind

Blows—if their

Is a message will

I speak it

Stop Regarding Man

Taken from Isa. 2:22, this was one of the first poems I ever wrote. Summer 2007. Enjoy!

Stop Regarding Man

 

Stop regarding man

He, she, they were crafted by my hand

Made for my purposes, made for me.

Lifting themselves up like they

Own their soul, like they are in control.

 

But God what about their plans,

What about their stand—against you?

What about me, what about she,

God don’t you see, they’re not like me.

God, you listen, you see, you hear as if I

Was the only one around,

I know you see me.

 

Stop regarding Man

The kings, the rulers, the dictators

They are mature in maliciousness,

Unrighteousness and full of regret, they

Stand under heavy stones that

Just might crush their bones,

Again I say they think they

Are their own, they think they

Control stars and wind,

Money and fame,

Tv and gain,

They play the game,

Standing haughty

In front of ignorant

Victims who

Have nothing to eat.

The wicked don’t sleep

Without scheming

Whom they will

Devour. It tastes

Sour, the flavor of the water.

Power, that’s what they are after.

My hour, my time,

They will cower,

My Name is a strong tower.

Don’t you understand,

My Son is seated at my right hand,

Ready, worthy, eager to see His glory.

Without trepidation he will tread upon the nations.