Best Wording Poems
Find Joy in the ordinary ~ Max Lucado
Far away, during moments of unrehearsed prayers, when I heard my mind move through the pages of some idea I had just happened upon – be it in Little Women or Nancy Drew or Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie – I could almost breath in the language and grace I was experiencing. These thriving volumes of colorful prose, words so natural they broke through my heart’s struggle with prayer and whispered sweet poetry to Jesus. With the words, the worlds, I discovered in these beautifully crowded pages I learned to dream and believe, to write what I felt and what I saw. I learned to hear the music within a thought. These books were my original opening to literature, to poetry and everything that spoke truth to my spirit. These books reached out to me with sensitivity and a sense of gentleness inspired by the writer’s genius. Without a doubt, these would be the sparks of imagination that colored my heart in hues of lilac and crimson adjectives, creative adverbs and ideas that would awaken my faith to God’s amazing grace, written down on the blank page!
~
silent thoughts float free
in books holding hope and truth
breaking away blame
~
Lives are lost
Souls are caught
All because of
one man's plot.
The cries
And pleas
That pierce through
The night.
Life planned out before
My birth;
Nothing I could say.
The blood
Of innocent children
Falls.
His father was
Here before.
He told us
What he had in store.
There is no peace
In this land
Of hope and freedom.
When everything
Falls in place for you
When you feel like, you're on top the world
Mind your actions
Even when you're highest
Live with humility, but don't be timid
Don't act like you own the world, because it revolves.
What goes up
Must surely come down
The law of gravity
Nothing blooms forever
The law of nature
Even when you know a lot
Act like you know nothing, but be bold
As season pass by, things and people change.
As written in the Bible
Matthew 20:16
The first shall be the last
And the last the first
The law of reversal
Pay attention, so you don't regret it.
I word the blood that freed our land
breathing opens minds which are
partly insane
popping midnight blue on cue
splattering palms moist
hoisting what is true
onto blank page as unhealed rage
this theatre an expanded oyster
Pearl becoming translucent
¥¥
glows pink silver the waiting Pearl to hurl
theatre seats are empty cold
rage evaporating with poverty
Truth speculatively mature
palms wrinkled warmly
cool blue a crying sky afar surfing
insanity protected his Heart
my blood runs a River of Stories
~~~~~~~~~
I word the blood black
that quenched my drought stricken land
they wade in blue sea ~
playing with haikus
juice and water make mosaics
prison is coffee ~
forget not my blood
it brought you a ballot box
as you swim blue sea ~
I saw fear the other day walking down the street.
I stepped to the other side, but it decided to greet me.
Not to form a misconception, I asked it what it wanted.
It said it wanted to enter my body to take courage from the soul.
I said, "Hold on, sir, let's talk about this because we've just met."
It replied, "Excuse me, but we met a long time ago. You were just too young to remember, but fear said, I remember; It was called being shy back then"
I said, "Oh, that was you. I tried to block the view: Between my eyes it could see through. I said that's when you left for a few, but here we are back in each other's eyesight." But I plan on putting up a fight.
So I asked it, "What’s your next move?" It said, "My next move is to enter into you."
As it proceeded to approach, I asked it a very simple question that would stop its existence: "What and who is fear to me? Because I will never let it exist in me."
That question cleared the past between fear and me, and it left just as it came.
Revise version:
My vision met fear while taking steps on the pavement.
The movement it made changed my course.
But it intertwined with me with a greeting.
My voice spoke with aggression; it would never be an agreement.
Besides, our paths never crossed to a commitment.
Its response was intellectual with a vocalized word called shy.
To remember the presence of the body’s entrance,
Voice went silent but spoke with conviction.
The reply was a sentence where fear, and I became one.
The answer was graphic, so the picture was clear.
Fear became an abstract picture of no existence.