Eggs is Eggs

Eggs is eggs

A glove’s a glove 

Sex is sex

Love is love

God is love 

Sin is sin

Love God: Love love

#GodWins

Trouble Doesn't Have a Sales Pitch

Trouble did not come looking for me
But once he found me he would not let go
His arms enfolded
To surround me
He opened the door to the motel room
He simply opened the door
And down we go

He came with protection
And with the arm
To beat the trick, the threat and me
I could not have no weak ass man
Tho he would not beat me
He would not beat my enemy

He came with the promise
He came with the lies
He came with the back of his hand
And without compromise
He came with the silver lining
He came with pretence
He came with repercussions
And he came
With the consequence

He put the world on hold
He held the concerns it voices
He held my money for me
He held all my choices



When you asked me what he said
To entice me to become his 'bitch'
You thought I was being poetic
When I said ‘Trouble doesn’t have a sales pitch’

But Trouble was his name

his name
Was literally 'Trouble'.



(Written after watching Louis Theroux' Dark States documentary on sex trafficking. The prostitute went by the name Nikki. Her pimp, Anthony Gardener, went by the name 'Trouble') 

Crucifixation

I am fixed
On the Crucifixion
Not fiction
But narrated
I'm fixated
On the cross
Of Jesus Christ
I'm enticed
To my own death
His last breath,
It cannot be missed
He told us all
It is accomplished
It. Is. Finished.
All I hoped for.
All you wished.

I think the devil
Missed  tricks
When he overlooked
The crucifix

Not that it was a deception
But just
Hid from his perception
He could never understand perfection
Was made perfect
Only in connection
With suffering
And God's suffering
Was his own free offering
A cross
Between unquenchable justice
And unstoppable mercy
And in this
They kissed
Son of God
Crucifix
And Gods Justice was sated
And now
I am fixated

The cross before me
Ever before me
The tree of curse
That should have bore me

The state of grace
Is the situation
When your diagnosis is
Cruxifixation.

 

My Song This Morning

My Song This Morning

To My Brothers and Sisters:

If I am killed
Will you please still sing
If I am butchered
Still bring your praise to the king
If I am blown up
Please make much of his name
If I should die during worship
If I am slain

Know that my death
Is not in vain
Know that God is still God
And Jesus still reigns
Know that death is still robbed
It's still lost it's sting
He is risen indeed
And our hope is in him

To our adversaries:

Know that while you still kill us
We will yet live
Know that while we forgive you
Only God can forgive
Know that there is still mercy
It's found in the name
Of this Jesus we worship
The one who once came
To die for your sin
And rose from the grave
And he alone is your hope
Only Jesus can Save.

(Written after news broke about the Jihadist attacks on churches in Sri Lanka killed over 250 people)

Manwomb

As Adam
Asleep in the dust
From
Which he was just
Created
Sedated
Formed as he was
From earth
From him was formed
The first birth

A caesarean
A section of flesh
A humanitarian
Delivery as deliverance
A sample of bone
Flesh of my flesh
No longer alone
And the surgeon
Unmasked
The sculptor unaided
And unasked
Blew life
With his breath
Before things got dark
Before shadows and death

This is now bone of my bones
And flesh of my flesh;
She shall be called ‘woman,’
For she was taken out of man
But all men hence
Will be taken out of her

All That is Within

This is a kind of Psalm
No trumpet
No fanfare
No raised alarm

Just a sinner
Who came to no harm
Reeling from love
Kneeling
With open palms
Open mouthed
Outstretched arms

Yes, this is a kind of Psalm.

Every breath that now comes
In chaos and calm
Sets wind in my praises
Gives sail to my psalm

Your works of wonder
Your awesome power
The detail in
Each fragile flower

The fearful wonder
In the way you made me
The breath of life
The love you gave me

All your works
Shall praise your name
All creation
Screams your fame

I can't promise you
Everything
I'm not even sure you can keep
The gifts I bring
But all within me
Wants to sing
Sing for you now
Sing my Psalm to my king,

You have saved me
And I love you.
Jesus God
No one above you

You know he's done wonderful things
When even your sin makes you sing
Because with opened eyes you can see
He dealt with it so gloriously
In love so superabundantly
His blood still avails for you and me,

Yes
This is a kind of Psalm
No trumpet in this room,
No fanfare
No raised alarm

Just a sinner
Who came to no harm
Reeling from love
Kneeling
With open palms
Open mouthed
With Outstretched arms

see how it has been dealt with so gloriously and so superabundantly

Frozen in (a Hero’s) Death

Sometimes I am envious of those who got to die heroically and be remembered well,
And not to have their long and slow descent to hell
Observed by children,
Who could never tell,
The depth beneath the surface.

To die in some historic just world war,
Fighting for their children in some glorious cause,
Hallowed tones and not metaphors,
Frozen in death at the peak of your,
Good and selfless deeds,
Though they were just the shiny skin,
The sacred and all forgiving covering,
That moment the shutter of history's lens
Closed
And captured
The best side,
They died
And faced no forensics.