Dream

I Am More

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I am free from such misconceptions of those I held in the past, I see the break of day beyond my terrifying night; I finally can see exactly what is right.

My beliefs were held in question when I chose to let my passion dwindle I felt someone or something was more important but that was my brain being swindled.

I lost my self in the colors I saw and forgot who i was, I forgot my own cause.

Whether others say that I am right or wrong my soul feels contempt and sings a new
sweet song.

This song is sweeter than any that I have spoken of in the past because I have passed foolishness into wisdom and this is wisdom that shall last.

I am made new once again and I’m sure it will come at least a few more Times I am defined by more than some girl, more than a chemical imbalance, and even more than these Rhymes.

Purging Passion

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I often lose sleep do to the sole thought that I walk this earth alone. I have God, I have family, and I have dear friends. Despite all that I do have, my soul still longs for love, one that shatters my perception of reality and pushes me into a new joyous world I never knew existed. I long for true love, I wish for it to flow through my veins and strengthen my very bones, I have a rib lost to me somewhere sitting inside the woman to whom I owe all of my affection. I can’t seem to figure it out, so I stay awake thinking surely surely if i were to sleep now the answer would be there, I must stay awake for one more moment. I’m gambling on a lost cause, and I constantly check my phone because in the time I live in the answers are always there, If I can’t Google it, YouTube it, Instagram it, or Facebook it, it shouldn’t matter right? I feel lost without this love that I seek one day I will find it or it will find me, for now I let my Passionate fury die and I will try once more to sleep.

How I Fight My Battles

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I need to write like i need to breathe, it is oxygen to my lungs when my depression acts as the deep vacuum of space. My writing whether it be poetry or my thoughts on matters of life makes sense to me things about myself i didn’t even understand before. My poetry often allots me the words to describe that which I did not know how to explain. The emotions of turmoil, joy, helplessness, and pure happiness all of these things fight with each other to be the subject of my thoughts. Often times in my poems one can even see the battle as it is waged when my poem starts depressing and leads to joy in the end. I firmly believe every tunnel has light at the end my writing is a way of forcing myself to the end of that tunnel. When one feels depression its strange, it grips a hold of you and wraps you up nice and warm, depression as I’ve stated before always feels familiar. The reason I bring up the familiarity of depression is this,  when one gets comfortable with depression it looks less threatening,  its tempting to let it hold you in it’s chilling grasp, to let it lead you into the deepest pits of despair. My writing forces a knife down on the wire that ties me to sadness and reminds me immediately of Gods love for me. My way of escaping the pain is to write but there are many other ways, find whatever allows you to hear the voice of God, whatever your blessed with,  whatever you’re talented at, that is where you will find your reprieve. The darkness cannot consume you if you radiate with light, so stay passionate my friends,  and let the Holy Spirit flow through you like blood through your veins, depression is a war that can be won.

Even the Past Must Move On

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I find these old memories lost in the shadows of my mind, I didn’t think they’d be back, but now I’m under attack.

Nostalgia and déjà vu, all at once when i see a picture of you.

What am I to do with this information that I’ve found, that my heart still seeks you, and your voice…I am deafened by the sound.

I know not what to do with these emotions with which I’ve been struck, I can not move, I am simply stuck.

Every word i read,  every picture i see, all I feel are painful memories.

I speak not of a girl or even of a friend,  but simply the past which seems better than this present tense.

That’s the thing about the past,  you get to pick and choose what you see but much of it was costly,  not all joyful and free.

I long for the past for it held simpler times, chasing a brown eyed girl and writing simpler rhymes.

I’ve reached a point that I just long for something more, something beyond my depression, something to make my soul soar.

I look to the past, present, and future for the one thing that remained constant, Yahweh, my God I worship your presence.

So, now I look not to the past, but instead to the present for each step I take will not be woefully spent.

Nostalgia is lovely, but not to be taken fully to heart the memories I’ve made are in the past,  and each day is a new start.

Addiction’s True Face

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   Addiction is a thief that creeps in the night,  it steals your soul and instills you with fright.

   Addiction is a war that never will end every single battle you start the fight again.
   Addiction steals your children, addiction steals your life, no matter the addiction it controls you… it’s leash is on tight.

   Addiction will not let go no matter what you do addiction holds on forever not just a day or two.

   So, i advise you my friends please never give in to anything addictive or it may just grab you until the end.

   I have lost my battle one hundred times over but the war still wages on, a war that with the right weapons actually can be won.

   Addiction may grip your throat and refuse to let go but I tell you I serve a God who’s sword will slice through that demons control.

    Addiction will not have me,  no not today, the fight may come back tomorrow but I will try to stay strong; I will keep on fighting though the war may be long.

   Nobody wishes to talk of addictions pains and how it clings, for everyone has felt addictions fatal sting.

   I remind you still that there certainly is hope, scripture will guide you, and prayer will help you cope.

The Winds of My Mind

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I have a deep and painful wound, the bleeding will not stop; it cuts deep into my mind and makes it wither like a long dead crop.

  My fields are often watered, flowers do bloom, but the weeds they eat away at all of my produce, refusing to let it stay.

  So, I sway… in the wind, I let it blow through my hair,  the wind that I feel shows me that someone truly cares.

  I am filled with so much emotion,  some of it even rage, nothing feels right,  everything feels strange.

   The wind that blows across my land, flows over my wound and through my crops, everything comes alive, all it took was wind…to make the bleeding stop.

In The Fall

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I will forever be in love with those ever changing eyes, that green and gold twisting vortex of leaves, that showed itself… to me.

  I come to understand that your eyes foretold a warning in the way they changed like the fall, you were changing as well, that’s how I lost it all.

  Now I sit in the fall wondering where you’ve gone, I remember it all, staying up talking from dusk till the dawn.

  The way the sun rose when it rose upon your face was the most beautiful sight I’ve seen, it’s been so hard to try and replace.

  I keep searching for answers, but the answers don’t come, i made you more than my world, you were the center of me…my very sun.

  Nature is the only way i could ever think to explain you, so i do it once more, hoping to understand, how did i lose you…and when did i become such a broken man.

  I still have my God, that much i know but  i could swear i felt something pure and true between our two souls; I lost you, and in that i lost control.

  Now that I’ve recovered and picked myself back up, i still feel it all deep within my heart; Ill try to ignore it at least for now, but the thoughts always come back and that is why i feel… like my heart is under attack.

  So i fight through this storm and embrace the change in weather, for this fall is one that will do nothing but sever.

Eyes

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I often look into peoples eyes and see more than what i feel others see. Each eye holds its own glimmer and shine, and each in its own spot. The eyes color, light, and movement along with the things we feel tell stories that most don’t know how to read. Within eyes one can see honesty, lies, joy, sadness, pain, faith, and much more.  I believe there are small worlds held within our eyes filling each particle of color up with our thoughts and emotions. It’s truly amazing how we as people can fall for certain eyes my poison of course is brown eyes. Every time I look into a pair of brown eyes i could swear their entire soul is on display. The worlds I see within them are like a fantasy world to me,  I’d do anything to make my way in and stay.  Often times people with brown eyes don’t even like their own eyes and it breaks my heart because I find them so wonderful. The mountain of poems that have been inspired by brown eyed girls  just shows how dearly my soul will reach out for them. It seems like such a small quality the color of one’s eyes and admittedly in a way it is.  There is no guarantee that the woman I marry will have brown eyes because while I fall for a color what I truly fall for is the soul inside.  We should all pay more attention to the individual little flickers of emotion within each-others eyes. The beauty that I’ve discovered by consistently gazing into others eyes has filled my soul. While this world will fill your eyes with darkness, sorrow,  and tears, one can always see that one little glimmer in the corner of the eye reminding us all that our soul is alive and will remain unbroken by the terrors of this world. The glimmer for me and that of many others is a flame that will never die out,  i hold fast to the joy of Christ and His love will forever guide my eyes.

I Am In A river

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 I am in a river, flowing steady and strong, it twists and turns for what feels to be far too long.

   Feels like i’m in the deep, struggling to swim above the water, all around me are people on land, none care for me as i reach out desperately with my hand.

   I’ve been in this river for quite some time but still may have a while to go, i cant see the end quite yet but the water’s at least a bit more shallow.

   I haven’t lived in this river my whole life, in fact I’ve been on land many times, most times i was thrown back in the water, but sometimes i just jumped in, i must keep faith there is an end.

   The problem i have with the river is impatience at the core, when i see a way out i jump for it, but i should know by now ill always end up wanting more.

   Its hard to tell where the river ends so we often make mistakes, we leave the river for solid ground but it simply crumbles beneath our feet.

   The river has widened due to my follies so I just keep floating trying to keep faith that God has made my river well and that the end of the river holds a beautiful shell.

   I jumped from the river for shells in the past, but none of them were right, none of them could last.

   I look back on the shells i held and the solid ground on which i stood, i think of the result and I’m in a different mood.

   The river is not so bad, in fact it keeps us from harm, i must hold out until i reach the end, there i will see my perfect shell’s charm.

   I am in a river, flowing steady and strong, it twists and turns for what I’m sure couldn’t be too terribly long.

I Close My Eyes

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Oh what beauty is it that i can take a burnt down shack and see it as a home, that i could see a cloudy sky and still see the birds as they fly.

   I sit down, i close my eyes, and suddenly this dark world is a great bright light of joy, all that is dreary is nowhere near me…

   Oh what a marvelous sky i see, i dream in my dreams because things can never seem quite wonderful enough; my life is a fairway, Heaven is the green, and the darkness is nothing… but the rough.

   So now i make my stance and make my drive, not to see how far the ball will go, but that it will fly straight, and down the narrow.

   Oh woe to those who don’t see these things, for all around me is great joy, i say it again and again because its true, in the sky i see every single lovely shade of blue.

   How do those live that see only the dark, blind men have seen more by simply loving the Lord.

   I am amazed as i close my eyes once again, i shut out all that is to see for a moment only what should be; life is beauty that we take for granted once we have the right view we can always recognize the one that’s slanted.

   So i dare you to dream within dreams of the world that could be, we instill our ideals of beauty on this world but, Gods handiwork will spread as we tell all of this joy, all the marvelous things that come from one’s soul and not their head.