Sadly #5

Sadly I stare at the screen, knowing what I want to say,

I just am not to sure on how to let it out, or how to relay,

Sadly I must trust technology, to help me through,

I do not have any friends, to ask what the heck to do.

 

I want to follow prompts, or follow the official rules,

instead I am writing aimlessly, feeling like a fool,

Sadly I am here , doubting my every move,

Scared to reach out, scared that someone might be rude.

 

I will just do my best, not really knowing what to do,

having fun still, wishing the best for each of you,

I could not wait to try this marathon, wanted it so badly,

Thought I would understand it better, but I do not sadly.

The Anatomy of an Anxious Heart

Pumping blood of worries,
On veins of negativity.

Made up of dark chambers,
And loneliness for arteries.

Beating with danger,
Thumping with fear,

Pounding hard for the unusual things,
Though they are not yet made clear.

Silently screaming,
Wanting to get out of this old trap.

Quietly shouting,
To get out of everything I’ve messed up.

It has always been like this from the start.
Tearing me up piece by piece, part by part.

Wanting me to get completely broken apart.
This is how it works— the anatomy of an anxious heart.

Closer than farther

The same rhythm is played from everybody to everybody.

Echoing an end for an early starter.

Demanding a wise man from that of a child.

And then, continuing the trademark tradition,

even though one had promised long ago to raise a dispute over the ordeal,

and the same shall not be followed as customary.

However, all is going into drain, once the offender came into contact.

Fame or Fortune

 

 

We want to be rich,

We want to be known

We want to be read

For we write on our own

We follow our muse

We listen to our hearts

We follow the leader

It’s a great place to start

Water Below the Cross

Left hand supporting and reassuring, Pastor places his right hand on the head of the new Christ follower, the one desiring to be in obedience to the one who paid his debt.  Words of affirmation come forth, as Pastor prays. His charge publicly declares newfound faith, death unto himself and oneness with his Messiah through this cleansing plunge beneath the waters.  Holy Spirit infilling with power and grace.  A doctrine-battle-weary church member watches, wondering if he has been sufficiently obedient and answers his own question.

Stained glass window frames

Wooden cross above water

Holy immersion

ANGST

A. Alive, I feel alive. I feel alive, in this moment and in this poem. I am alive. I am everything I’ve dreamed of, anything at all, I can be. I am the moon, controlling the tides, I am the tides, washing ashore, I am the sun, heating the sand, I am the wind, carrying my words near and far…I am the trees, waiting to bear fruit, I am the soil, giving small creatures a home, I am Alive..

N. Namaste, dear friends. My morning coffee cup sits beside me, the light from the kitchen illuminates the golden paint off of the wall. I see the God in you, so do not fret if we do not see eye to eye. Peace, always, because in 10 years, our tranquility will be the only thing worth salvaging.

G. Gratitude, I am so thankful for this moment. Because I knew poverty and sadness, I began to count my blessings and became rich with happiness. I give thanks for the food in my ‘fridge, the air in my lungs, the roof over my head, and the love in my heart. I am most Grateful that I have 10 fingers, so that I can sit here and type this.

S. Strength, I am strong. My favorite word to describe myself, for I must remind myself at least 10 times a week that I will not break. Fuerte, Soy fuerte, one of the first phrases I learned in Spanish. For me, there is no creativity, no words, no inspiration, no passion without strength from adversity. Every day, I (try to remember) to say these words. And when I do, I am the ruler of my universe.

T. Transformation, I am always evolving. Time passes and I move with it, riding the waves of life and carving my way into caves of shelter…I rest there, and I transform. From caterpillar to butterfly, from girl to woman, I am always transforming. Growth is essential, it is okay to not have all of the answers, and I continually transform so that I can meet life head-on with whatever it throws at me.

Lay hands on me

Place ur hands over my head

Heal my mind

Close ur hands over my face

Make my beauty shine

Cover my heart with ur healing hands

Take my pain away Heal me

Feel me under my skin

The power to heal

The love can do

Hope I can b in ur hands forever.

Sometimes I need u

It’s not Wat u want It’s Wat u need

Put ur hands over my heart

Take my pain away

When those days are movin

My body is limp

My soul is broken

Place ur hands over my soul

Save my life I kno u kno

Lay hands on my weak

Lay hands over my dead

Lay hands to my spirit

How u heal When u feel

The power of another.

I love u, when ur under

The spell in trance

To heal with ur hands.

The Angst

My death awaits me somewhere up ahead
Each step I take leads me to it’s embrace
I must go on I cannot stop instead
It looms ahead and waits to show it’s face
Is fear of this my only lot in life?
A fate that grows much closer year to year
Be bold, be brave, do not give up in strife
All life must end for now be of good cheer
Though haunts me still one day ahead I’ll die
And when I do, I don’t know what I’ll leave
What meaning is the light gone from my eye
Does light return? the hope of those who grieve.
Yet this I know one man has died and rose
In death we wait to follow where he goes.

Ripples Poem#7

You are ripples in my life
You bring small waves of emotion.
Beautiful yet uncertain
A mixed of doubt, hope, logic and life’s ion.
Stirred into tiny rings of excitement and anticipation.
A moment the ripples appeared,
It was beautiful
Once out of sight, beauty ebbs away,
And doubt emerged instantly.
You maybe the bubbles in my mind.
That causes chaos all the time.
But my heart sings a different tune.
Just believe, when truth arrives.
Hold on tight and you will find…

21st Century Teen

Wrinkle between the azure orbs is filled with sweat beads.

Underarms are soaked in deluge of fluid.

Feet slide forward with heavy glide that hides the anxiety.

Suddenly the torch disappears and all is inky blackness.

The wavy tresses bounce as the teenage head pops up from its concentration.

Mom! Shouts a cracking male tenor in full panic.

Is your room clean? Asks the woman standing in the doorway.

Awwww, Mom! Comes the reply, the player noting the plug in her hand.

Once again, the Hero is stopped by an unsuspected foe.

 

21st Century Teen

Lue

August 13, 2016