He shook his fist from the stage

Because it makes you feel good.
Because it’s tax deductible.
You’ll cross off a box on that long list –
and you’ll sleep better.

What do we have to spare?
Hope to receive it back.
Everyone in the office is –
You should too.

The biggest check,
Has your signature at the bottom –
I wonder if that wing of the church,
has a name already?

Gold plaques
with embossed letters.
Full page spreads
in every local newspaper.

Because it’s a competition.
Because it’s about you.
He shook his fist from the stage –
and said you won’t feel guilty.

You really hate to feel guilty
It’s like being exposed a fraud.
You hate to feel guilty,
More than you care to give.

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At night, before the day comes

I must convince myself that I am not afraid.
I must lean into it.
Face the day –
However dreadful.

The way I see it, I have three options:
Die.
Stay.
Or lean.

I’ve thought much about the dying way.
Meditated.
Romanticized.
But I cannot. I don’t have it in me.

I have done more than think,
About the staying way –
I have lived it for many years.
Found the rhythms in being still.

I’m left with lean,
And the want to move.
I must face the day,
Even though, it will often be dreadful.

Promise

A friend of mine was praying. While he prayed, the word “marriage” came to him again and again. “But I am already married, Lord,” my friend said aloud. “What does this mean?” He continued to pray and then he heard a name come from God. He thought he must tell this person, but before he did, he prayed for two weeks to make sure he had heard correctly.

My friend came up to me in church. I had not seen him in a while.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he said. “Something I heard from God.”

I was intrigued and admittedly a little nervous. I thought perhaps God wanted something big from me; to move to another country or become a missionary.

“God told me that you will be married,” my friend said to me.

I smiled and blinked as I stared blanky.

I have thought so many things since that moment. I’ve asked my friend if he heard the word “soon” or if another name was given. My friend smiled and said “no” to these things. This friend of mine is solid. He is a man of his word and has heard things from God before. This leads me to believe that he is not lying and that he did in fact hear something.

I am a worrier. I worry that I will die alone (it is my greatest fear). I worry that I am not stable enough for a marriage. I worry that I won’t be able to provide financial support. I worry about so many things: my lack of physical fitness, unstable mental health, struggles to start a career,  but I think I worry the most about never finding love.

So in the midst of all that worry and doubt came a promise from God:

You will be married.

I struggle with deep depression. Perhaps this is God’s way of saying “hold on.” I think he knows my greatest fear and speaks against it. “I got you, even in that dark place.”

I am glad for that knowledge. I am glad for the peace that comes from it. I am going to try and believe the promise God made to me and all the other promises he has made to all of us. I am going to try and leave worry behind and pick up hope instead. It is much lighter, I’m sure. 

Even the angels have demons – But the demons have a mighty foe

There are not demons telling me to do it.
It is only me.
And that’s all there will ever be.
Just me.

I know the weight of it.
Know what it feels like in my hand.
Maybe I could stab it quick.
Maybe you could understand.

I’ll see it through to the end You see.
See it through.

Gritty nonstop hardness. Violence that spills into the street. Wine pouring to the edge of a glass. Broken glass from a storefront. Front street complete with break ins. Broken bones no simpletons.
“I’m a street nigga” he said, looked right through me. See through cats. Girls try to woo me. Pivot on back foot, grimey chimney soot. I’m strapped and ready for action. Now, gimme gimme more. Let the speakers blow. Let the people know. Wringing out the blood from your white tee. Ringing off hook phones. Hang up tones. Microphones spoken by street corner pastors. Snapped guitar strings.
Hang yourself with ‘em. Pawn shop diamond rings. Midwife bring ‘em. Did a deal with devil? Smarter than ‘em. Shame Lucy with Gucci. Now, gimme gimme more. Let the speakers blow. Let the people know. Put ya hands in the air! Freeze mo fucka Freeze. On ya knees mo fucka on ya knees. Beggin please mo fucka beggin please. For the cheese mo fucka for the cheese. Cardiac cats gunna seize. Askin god exactly what he sees. Shouldda got A’s stead of C’s. Asking Christ who he wanna be. Or is it me?

Bluetooth-fuck off-City
New-tunes -luck draw-gritty.
Not shitty. Now that’s Cincy.

There’s beauty in that pain. Can you feel it? Can you movie reel it? Ask em who the realest. Go ahead, ask em who the realest.

* * * * *

He steps into frame

Full of light, sword in hand

He walks slow

Because he is not afraid

Because he can

He is a warrior, yes,
but also a King

Like a President
and lowly worker
at the same time

The dark is day to him

He is the energy
from which the sun
draws inspiration

With a wave of holy
steel, he casts out the
darkness clinging to my
fragile mind then, He
turns it on the evil in you

He is a tower
made of deafening sound

He is the sound
that a sunrise makes
and thunder rains
that fill up the clouds
then the ponds

He showed me
what has possessed me

He even gave it a name

Then he cut it down
with a stroke that tore
the sky from the East
to the West

The prison,
the seemingly impenetrable fortress
is nothing to him

Nothing

He rips it into halves
this time with his mighty hands
and scoops me up
and you too

Run, He says,

Run as far as you can
from these things

This is no place for you

Come with me,
I’ll show you what real is