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Poem
I’ve discovered that
My brain is a place that knows no bounds
Of expression.
A magazine of thoughts, live rounds
That lock
Into the chamber, my mouth
As my tongue cocks back,
Hammers forward and spits them out.
I’ve discovered the irony
Of saving a life while taking another
Like shooting the gunman
With a pistol to the head of my brother.
That’s gossip.
And then there’s speech that wasn’t meant that way.
Idle words that equal a
Negligent discharge, still count as foul play.
That’s why it’s best
To squeeze the trigger, staying in control
Because idle words can easily
Embed in the holes of someone’s soul.
You know. Holes caused
By bullying, holes caused by rape
And holes caused by words
Against someone’s colour, or shape.
Holes caused by
Experiencing domestic violence
And holes caused by the
Self-harm of those suffering in silence.
Holes that, blocked
By a tongue out of control,
Induce the flooding
And drowning of a weakened soul.
And consider,
Words spoken in light-hearted jest
Could become
The noose around a heavy-hearted neck.
A quick acknowledgement.
Sticks and stones may
Break my bones but words will never hurt me.
But we’d all take a
6 weeks healing over years of a mind muddled murky.
You know what I mean.
When you ask if what they said was maybe right.
And I speak from experience.
I know I’ve had those sleepless nights.
Inward frustration,
Caused by a lack of knowing why,
Causing outward tears.
Sometimes, so sad even my tears would cry.
From these times
Of Death came the lessons of speaking life.
Unlike a phoenix from the ashes,
We LEARN speaking life from peaking strife
Because speaking
Life is LEARNED, it doesn’t grow wild
Like untrimmed brambles.
Thorns and berries, harsh and mild.
There’s purpose
And a focused intent in one direction
And I found that the
Speaking of life is found in the Resurrection.
The Resurrection of Christ.
You see his last WORDS
On the cross were, “It is finished!” but then he rose
So He couldn’t
Have been talking of the end of life so we know
Death has a certain end
But life, life, through the death of Christ, always goes on
So, to speak Christ is
To speak life and die without Christ is wrong.
I said ‘His last WORDS on the cross’
Because, after that came His actions, the verbs of the cross
You see, you can’t SPEAK
Life if you don’t DO life, the verbs of the cross.
Love.
When you speak and do
Love, you speak and do life, not death
So die to self
And speak Love into lives until there’s no death left.
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