I am held in the hollow of his hands, by the rivers that make me glad. He keeps me in his alcove of affection, Shielding me from harm and hell’s machination. I am kept by the power of His Love, His is a variant that fits my soul like a glove, When the storms of life venture near, I am assured of peace for He is here. I am held up above principalities and powers, My spirit fears neither death nor the witching hour, For there is a constant witness in the furnace, I have a Father who ever lives to give me rest. I am fearless in the den of raging beasts, Calm in the eye of fires stoked by pride and persecutions. For within me is domiciled one who is greater, I am His beloved and He is my Lord and Lover. I am held in the hollow of his hands, Adorned with grace on my head like

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Let’s Dance

Listening to Sia “Soon we’ll be found” He said to me “Son, lets dance” I was surprised for He was giving me another chance. Did he forget my nights of reckless abandon, when I gave my soul over to Dagon, where beneath the glow of the crescent moon, I smoked trees and vanity was in full bloom? The stars twinkled cheering us on, Come son, he said, come son.. His nail scarred hands outstretched, though I was clad in filth and wretched. “No!” I screamed as I turned away, “Why treat me like a gemstone when I’m just clay” Do you not recall my arrogance and my pride? the days of my deathly dalliance, so eerie and wild? Painting the town red with iniquity and sin, Living a life so tragic and obscene… ? Do you not see the murk and mud on my skin? Are your nostrils blind to my stench, my stink? Son, Let us dance… here’s my

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El Ro’i

He sees you. He desires you. You are the greatest thing since sliced bread. You are greater than sliced bread. You have been buttered and bred, By the Chief Baker of all Eternity. He is the God who sees… He is God over all the seas. Yet He is mindful of you. He is intimate with all your hues. When you are moody and blue, When you are cheery and full of glee. He sees. He desires you. Hear Hagar. Seething and whining. Her heart raging with anger. Hear her baby boy. Infant sobs pierce the blistering heat. Dusty winds lash at them. Hear Hagar. For He hears her cry. He hears her son’s tears. He sees her fears. And He answers… For He is a God of Love. He sees. He is not blind. He sees. Even in the darkest nights. When the lights are but shadows. When the sounds are but funeral dirges. He sees. He knows. Because

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Letting GO

I don’t think I have written a poem this bland and simple… I was actually crying as I penned this. Letting go, Letting GOD. For there is such an emptiness within, and my heart is clogged with filth. All around me is a widening void, a festering gash, that only your love can fill. that only your touch can heal. Yet I find myself chasing trinkets, blinded by my greed. I stand by the street corner, tears washing my cornea.. I had wasted years chasing applause and accolade… Feeding fat on the glint and mint, You tell me to let go… but I love my toys, I cannot do without them. Though they bring me pain, My eyes find delight in the anguish. You show me your heart for me, I listen to your endless love ballad. So in the pain of letting go, there is a joy I find… that of holding on to you. You teach me to

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(Not a poem) Good luck to the paunchy heads of state and barefooted bureaucrats, With pouches stained with black gold and dirty carats; New shoes decked with things expensive and luxuriant. They are the wizened claw-pointing cronies of corruption Breathing lies, baring their fangs. Can you see them? they are the masked marauders, mauling the impoverished populace. Behind a veneer of spirituality and candor Ravenous wolves in the wool of sheep. Scowling and howling from city hall to church pews, their words as tasty as a month old stew. I write of those that tell that ancient lie – Youths are the leaders of tomorrow – While we scoff and sing echoes of self-inflicted hard times, as a little blue bird tweets listlessly about the Cataclysmic Chronicles of our fragmented state! Every word stenciled in falsehood… yet we see them, in their bullion vans… bullying the masses, Canvassing across the borders. Haranguing the weak, pilfering wealth from public coffers In

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