Poetry

Poetry has long been my favorite form of writing. I remember back to my 5th grade year in elementary school. We were given a poetry exercise. Most of the class complained, while I loved every minute of it.  Later during my high school years I began to develop my writing. In English class, I was honored when one of the other students asked if they could read one of my poems on the day we were supposed to choose a favorite piece of poetry and read it to the class.

I have always stayed with the old rhyming, metered style and after 30+ years find it actually easier to write something in this form than in free-verse. Although I appreciate free-verse poetry, I still enjoy a good rhyming, well metered piece of poetry.  Below is something that may be a little dark for some readers, and is not indicative of my children's writing, but it is one of the styles I enjoy. Sort of a Poe / Christian.

Fortress - 2011

What ruse depletes defiant hope?
Infects, engorged
`til out of scope 
of this small world
within control,
within our realm of reach.

It masks the face to shield its guise,
to those naive,
and  too, those wise,
to break the shell of hollowed men
in fear, 
entrenched, in breach.

Cast out this lie of end begun
His truth  remains,
He is the One.
As nothing else should pierce our hearts,
but  words He gives
to teach.

As satan’s call brings sorrowed pain,
to  worried souls,
regret, disdain.
But to those close to Heaven’s word,
a  fortress
protects each.

What If - 2011

What if the sights that I see now
were sharp, and crisp, and clear?
Would beauty found with each new glance
be held within so dear?

What if the air that passed my lips
was deep, and bold, and free?
Would thoughts that lead my mind to joy,
still take my breath from me?

What if this heart within my chest
beat strong, and long, and fast?
Would minutes then be cherished still,
'til each is long the past?

What if God stood before me now
and said these words today,
“The pain, the aches, the sorrow’s weight,
I’ll take them all away.”

The thoughts would race within my mind!
Excitement deep inside!
My answered prayers, each filled with hope
and born as tears I’ve cried.

But not a word would I then speak,
as silence had then grown.
The peace would fill my inner soul,
the truth that I’ve long known.

What if that heart could feel no joy?
No beauty those eyes see?
These pains I’ve felt, and sorrows cried,
are all what make me, me.         
Heaven's Word - 20011

To condemn oneself with mournful heart,
To bellow blasts of  pain,
With  tearful trails of hurtful hate,
Disgust, distrust, disdain.

To follow that which fancies lust
And holds a soul now sold.
In watchful want of worldly things,
In greed, in glut, in gold.

A life that boasts of what is held,
Holds only death inside,
But treasures held  in heaven's word,
In life, will long abide.

Doubt - 2009

One of the ugliest demons I fight on a regular basis is doubt. Dout in my self, and doubt in anything I create. Don't let the nay-sayers drag you down into the pit with them.

Ethereal orbs, blackest light,
peripheral ghosts, blinded sight.
What beast now feeds beneath my bed?
Invading thoughts with purest dread.

Around the way, atop the stair,
his pungent stench, rot, fills the air.
For there he  sits, and there he waits,
his bone-white flesh, lips, dripping hate.

I dare not shift nor look behind,
for fear his gaze is what I’ll find.
Those yellowed teeth, the bloodshot eyes,
no mask  shall hold or shield his guise.

He grasps my heart. His fingers cold!
Then steals my breath, like death’s due hold.
My feet won’t move, my legs are numb.
Can’t hear,  can’t speak, both deaf and dumb.

What force shall pull me from this pit?!
To ease this grip, return my wit!
“Please help me Lord!!” my soul screams out,
"Release me Lord… from my own doubt!"
Lost - 2009

Now rendered deaf to words You speak.
Engaged to doubt, as sorrows peak.
Not one alone, but in this crowd,
I stand now clothed by threads sewn proud.

Not worth the grain this bread I bake.
Not worth the time this toil I take.
In long past life seen part in tear,
Lie hope and joy, good days in cheer.

Where are these things I once held close?
When words flowed rich, in days verbose.
My breath from deep, escapes in sigh,
Has this world changed, or is it I?
A Friend - 2005

I met someone the other day,
no shoes upon her feet.
Her cold and lonely, hiding place?
A corner of the street

I turned to walk the other way,
but something pulled me back.
I looked into the woman's eyes
so lifeless, cold and black.

The rain had soaked her tattered clothes.
She shivered from the cold.
The lines upon her time worn face
spoke years of tales untold.

She reached her hand out to touch mine.
Our grip in tight embrace.
The darkness lifted from her eyes.
A smile was on her face.

The sadness faded from my heart,
for joy is ours to choose.
I reached inside my old gym bag,
and handed her my shoes.

Then deep within I felt great joy.
I turned to walk away.
God gave through me her greatest needs,
that cold and rainy day.

I met someone the other day.
with many rings of gold.
A frown upon the woman’s face.
Her heart had grown so cold.

She quickly pushed me to the side.
She rushed along her day.
The cares of her cold, lonely world,
had taken life away.

But then as if I called her name,
to add to my surprise,
she turned to look into my face,
with sorrow in her eyes.  

She then set down an old gray bag,
and held out her strong hand.
I felt the warmth of her tight grasp.
Like that of an old friend.

She handed me a pair of shoes,
for none were on my feet.
As I was cold and all alone,
and living on the street.

I smiled at her and said, “Thank you.”.
A tear formed in my eye.
She smiled back, “You’re welcome friend.”
as she began to cry.

Then deep within I felt great joy.
She turned to walk away.
God gave through me just what she need,
that cold and rainy day.

She often stops to say hello.
We visit and we walk.
She sometimes tells me of her day.
We share a meal and talk.

Do not rely upon this world,
in money, wealth or greed.
Through open eyes God shows us all,
He’s given what we need.