Still He Went On

The depth and intensity of Your emotional suffering was so great.

You knew what was before You:

Your best friends deserting You,

Your physical suffering,

Having to watch Your mother watch You die,

Feeling, for the first time in Your life, separation from God.

You knew what was before You

and You did it anyway,

even with the choice to run or fight.

The despair You must have felt…

Overpowering,

Permeating,

All-Consuming Your Entire Being.

All this You felt and still You went on.

Your trust in God gave You such emotional strength.

How, then, can I be so emotionally weak?

I’m afraid to share Your story

because I can’t anticipate an exact reaction.

I say I trust in God,

but do I really?

If I did I’d be more bold.

I’d never cease a prayerful thought,

I’d never care another’s judgment.

I’d never carve my own legacy.

I’d only serve to make Your legacy known.

I’d only serve to make Your legacy known.

What You did is so beyond my grasp to ever know,

but help me Lord,

help me make it known.

16 Oct. 2012 

Ohne Liebe (a 9/11 Memoir)

Ohne Liebe,
Ohne Liebe,
Ein Tag ohne Liebe ist ein trauriges Tag.
Liebe gibt Leben zu Leute.
Menschen ohne Liebe nehmen das Leben.
Zum Beispiel, Heute, vor elf Jahren.
Lebt genommen wurden.
Zwei Flugzeuge flogen, wo sie nicht sollten.
Dass kleine Akt war die Ende für viele Leben.

Wir alles uns fürchten allein zu sein.
Nicht alles Zeit,
Manchman wir brauchen allein zu sein.
Aber, Ich denke dass, niemand alles Zeit allein zu sein will.
Was, dann, muss Leute wer Familie oder Freuden verloren fühlen?
Sie sind mehr allein heute als dann. Geliebten Menschen wurden getötet.
Die Leute ohne Lieben haben sie getötet.
Warum?
Weil sie Liebe nicht haben.
Ohne Liebe,
Ohne Liebe,
Ein Tag ohne Liebe ist ein trauriges Tag.


11 Sept. 2012

Untitled

All day, I hear you sit and
complain
of growing older.
Complain of how your bones are beginning to creak.
Complain of how wrinkles are creasing your face.
Complain of gaining dead weight.
Well as you complain amongst your girlfriends, you
fail to realize I, too, am aging.
When you first brought me in your office I was young.
Polished, smooth.
I even had a glossy look to me.
But now, you don't even notice how you treat me.
You, yes, you, have imprinted wrinkles into my skin.
You have caused me to appear older than I am,
sound older than I am.
I creak and groan as you go about your day,
oblivious,
to the pain you've caused.
Well I won't tke it anymore missy.
I'm done taking your disrespect.
Without me, you'd be working on the floor.
Wihtout me, you'd look foolish among your coworkers.
Without me, you're nothing.
No job,
No money,
No reputation.
So stop treating me as trash.
Stop slamming things down.
Stop writing so hard you dent my skin.
Stop disrespecting me.
I was a gift, if you remember,
so is that why you treat me as you do?
Because you didn't have to pay for me
yourself?
If you keep this up, you soon will have to
pay
for something new
and they won't care for you
as I do.
Or, as I use to.
But since you starrted treating me this way,
I long for the day when you will pay
so I can leave to rest in peace.
Ah, rest.
That sounds so sweet to me ears.
No more banging, slamming, groaning, or
complaining.
Just peace.
Pure bliss.
Rest.
Silence.
---------
No longer am I young,
and so I care not to look as such.
Instead, I wear my battle scars with pride,
showing what I went through,
what I endured,
to become what I am today:
Something useful.
Something that helped this world.
Something that learned and grew from
Every scratch,
Every dent,
Every stain,
From both coffee and pen.
Something being made new.
I'd trade my beauty for wisdom
any day,
and that is what I have done.
Instead of complaining,
You, too, should appreciate
what you've become.
What you've become should always
Always
be better than who you were.
I can say that.
Can you?

05 Nov. 2012

Christmas Poem

One small child.
Come to take away the wild
desires of the flesh
and fetch
human souls
to burn like coal
and sustain the fire of God
working in this world.

One small child
come to live and die
but never lie
a sacrifice
to pay my price.

One small child
so tiny and small
allowing us to hear God's call.

One small child
held tight under
a mother's loving gaze
waiting to see what His days
would hold.

One small child.
Come to save the world.
Merry Christmas World,
Your Savior is born.

04 Dec. 2012