a stream of consequence


All I want is to work,

Until at some point I may find,

The opportunity to succeed,

In doing what I do best.

Creativity, that art which flows,

so naturally to me composed,

of all the emotions I have yet,

None of which I do regret.

Only then may I find,

A peace that is everlasting,

For this is what my God would give,

To me a gift of words and magic.

That I would put my trust in Him,

By letting go of all so dearly,

held to me like pride and anger,

Replaced with love sincerely.

Now my task is to convince,

My closest family of my joy,

Music, art, and all the above,

And nothing else.

Letting go of all I thought,

I needed dearly, like karma,

and all the stories that weren’t clearly,

Except music, and the red head piano room.

There I lay sometimes in joy,

Others in sadness when my ploy,

Falls to bits because my friends,

forget the way the story bends.

And twists and turns like fortune,

Oh this poem never ends,

And all this time my purpose is,

To express my inner sentiments.

Trust in God.

a swelling


a world of words,

cooler than air,

often a hell,

for those in despair,

like I, in those moments when,

everything seems so swell.

Fermenting Anger


A typical twilight of sorts,

caught in my mind at this late hour,

twisting and turning my innermost,

sentiment towards power.

I certainly would go for wine,

a bottle of beer that I may be candid;

and say to hell with all the swine,

that plague this world like cancer.

that is all


The past is the past. That is all.

deep in the cage


Image

my heart thumped, I felt weak,
and fell to my knees, awe struck,
that I could preach autonomy,
how fragile I am, without God.

I fear to speak, to say my feelings,
for what they’ll do to spite me,
I cannot help what I am, a frail man,
seeking refuge, in my Lord.

on days like this, I understand,
what brings us men, nearer to Him,
that love between a boy and his mother,
that compassion towards another.

what is that barrier, keeping men,
from returning to their lawful creator,
but a case of anger, a cold arrogance,
a sickness without medicine.

in the garden


The wonders of life lie in mysteries unearthed.

But only by true spirits, with hearts unfurled,

can they be found.

This place of heaven, this feeling of bliss,

If only it could last forever.

Maybe then, I would be still,

Caught with the world in a trance.

Like winter days, when we would dance,

In dark affairs, and sweet romance,

Between the trees, the sheets of man,

Nature, and spirit.

word


Take things into your own hands if others slow you down, and do what you want to do if you know how.