I entered life tabula rasa,
a spiritual being, a blank slate,
my life unpainted on a piece of masa
with no ego to sate.
But my ego grew before I knew
how spirit bends when shadows speak;
it found the doubts I clung to, too,
weakening me, unable to spiritually seek.
It shrouded the signals the spirit sends
the mercies placed at every hand~
the rainbow the sunshine bends,
the blue-violet dusk that glorifies the land.
And here’s the truth I long denied:
a tainted picture ego did draw,
and I’m the one who lets its shadow dwell inside
until at my self-esteem it did gnaw.
So now I walk the inner way~
crucifying the ego’s strength and claim.
For God’s guidance I doth pray,
vowing, “Ego, thy shall no longer my spirit defame!”
Although ego’s voice still tries to rise,
I greet it with a pilgrim’s grace
knowing it’s my worst enemy who wears many a disguise.
Now I’m a braver, enlightened soul finding its place.
I learnt a new word today.
Catatonic.
The vexatious coax of its accuracy sanctifies the burden of my reluctant existence.
The vacant faith of its salvation glorifies the redundancy of my timeworn stagnation.
The inertia of my own consciousness rouses within the weight of my repulsive apathy.
I am absent.
My reflection in the window distorts into a portal.
The pale of my skin shudders, an ashen pallet of abasing beauty.
The tremors of my skin winces, a demeaning pallet of humiliating fortune.
The curve of my lips stitch shut, a confined pallet of overflowing tincture.
The violent, lilac fuse of deprivation pounds my crimson in a bloodthirsty famine of a desperate call for condemn.
Yet, the only paragon unearthed is the vacant, potent inevitability of saturation into the voices of my own void;
I will forever remain in an absence of my own conceded mould.
He gives back-turned witness
To those who've perceived
In clear forms of beastliness
A splendid display.
History's onlooker.
Mankind's one shame-faced!
Stands back, in time, from cheerer
Glorifies Death's play.
Our tongues are instruments of power
it has a mind of it's own
just like our hearts
the words from our tongues
can make us or break us too
before the sight of the Lord Jesus Christ
even though we believe no one is listening to us
we always have one invisible witness
available in every conversation
Our tongues can be saturated
with encouraging words of love
prayer and psalms of thanksgiving
like a bright flower in a garden
which glorifies our God
but at the same time
it maybe saturated
with bitterness, profanity, backbite
slander, criticism, gossip, lies and insults
where it become less like a flower
but more like a sword
which glorifies the Devil
flowers and swords cannot
be forced to share a room together
Our tongues should be saturated
with more things like flowers
and less things like swords
Oh to be in England
With joys on takeaway
When spring has cast magic
That glorifies each day.
Many seaside places
For summer holidays
North, east, west and down south
A kaleidoscope of stays.
Autumn comes, leaves then fall
Pretty carpets they lay
Beneath the barren trees
To feed new growths way.
Winters bring on beauty
One could not downplay
The scenic wonderland
That brighten earth's display.
England’s many voices
Accents in wide array
O’er towns and countryside
That charm dialogues sway.
Give unto us, a home that puts God first
To conquer every satanic devilish thirst
Cum subsequent tempted thrill reversed
Giving another try to get heart's conviction coerced
Give unto us, a home fervently strong in prayer
Which would beforehand averts despair
And cement hope grace truly ensnare
With everlasting merciful covenant's flare
Give unto us, a home richly blessed
With housing large enough to have guest
Which glorifies God's name to manifest
What our daily supplications; God bequest
Give unto us, a home where love rules
That not one but both are useful tools
Of efforts to adjust necessary schedules
Creating time for each other unlike fools
Give unto us, a home that nurtures children's sights
Aright in Your directives both in days and nights
That Your wills be their surging appetites
Of Your words as guides in earthly frights
The breast of the Carolina wren sighs,
and the tinge of autumn glorifies the
silent beauty of his engraved name on
marble and granite,
a tribute to the youth bridegroom
known for the cherish of his gleaming
love he had in life.
A cascading veil of lace,
white roses,
teardrops,
a pall cast over his bride and
nuptial guests.
Hail him, with his heart that had
goodness, generosity, and joy.
The bridegroom died on his
wedding morn.
In a passage of mortal to eternal,
the sparrows dedicate sorrow in
autumnal songs to him.
His betrothed stands in the grass,
her groom, her love, in
September’s embrace,
In the mourning fields.
North Carolina bereavement is
everlasting,
in her mountains of gold and
crimson,
her Piedmont, her coast.
Such lament aflame-
unbridled in its pain.
Our paean rings of his song,
his tragic journey to join the Lord
and His angels,
as the mist shrouds envelop
his bride,
in the mourning fields. ~
How we live our lives really matters most,
For heaven’s gaze is fixed with deep concern.
Eternal issues rise - a sacred host -
And from our choices, timeless truths we learn.
It matters to all who stand dear and nearby,
Especially those who love and look to us.
We are charged to live godly, not just try,
With hearts full of obedience and trust.
In presence of all heaven, we constantly stand,
For He makes winds His messengers in flight,
And flames of fire His servants by command.
All heaven watches us, both day and night.
So let our light before all brilliantly shine,
That cosmos sees - and glorifies His Name.
From moments when love was cherished in Stalingrad,
Like stories written on the walls
With the song repeated by Babushka
And not long after that, the war reached its gates.
Hands turned into fists and ready for battle
Like heads and shoulders patiently under the whip,
The Motherland Calls enchants and glorifies,
Without knowing the ensuing bloodbath.
Every minute felt like a bundle of fear,
With the magic of free will as faded as a dust,
Like a house turned into rubble
And corpses piled upon corpses.
Yahweh shows continuous action
If there is any fraction of our lives that needs attention
Yahweh is active, and He works in our lives
The faithful love of God the Father has no end
His Great Love covers a multitude of sins
His Love stands firm forever
Because He cares and prepares the hearts of many
Do not fear
Yahweh is faithful until the bitter end
He sent forth His Son, Jesus, who
Won the battle over death
Through Him, the breath of our existence glorifies Him
So we know that Yahweh is faithful until the bitter end
Yahweh shows continuous action
If there is any fraction of our lives that needs attention
Yahweh is active, and He works in our lives
Mark Frank
Copyright 2025
Social media is a charade
A manic masquerade
Where charlatans peddle lies
And truth slowly dies
But you were led to the dance
And you thought you had a chance
So you either go ballistic
Or end up a statistic
Volatile times produce hostile rhymes
And television that glorifies crimes
We're taught to live shameless
And despite mistakes we're blameless
To them everything is a game
Laughing as you seek clout and fame
Those lives you see aren't real
But the devil made a deal
Instagram is full of posers
Facebook is full of hosers
Reality is your brochure
To disconnect and find closure
Don't be afraid of friction
As you escape the fiction
Social media is a charade
A manic masquerade
Worldly songs fret
The human ears
Tickles the heart.
Great song not age
It lives by time
Respect lyrics.
Love songs rain heart
Emote the eyes
Makes lovers dream.
Song glorifies
Souls that sleep
Touch heart of God.
The faithful love of God has no end
His Great Love covers a multitude of sins
His Love stands firm forever
Because He cares and prepares the hearts of many
Do not fear
Yahweh is faithful until the bitter end
He sent forth His Son, Jesus who
Won the battle over death
Through Him the breath of our existence glorifies Him
So we know that Yahweh is faithful until the bitter end
Yahweh will finish His task and we will know that
Yahweh was faithful until the bitter end
Mark Frank
Copyright 2024
she brings the joy of Jesus into a room
the atmosphere goes up in a mad zoom
her enthusiasm is natural and God-like
you can feel the others' blood pressures spike
She is not in competition with any other
A corn-fed Iowa girl with a Godly mother
From the Bible belt, which is a great place
She changes the mood, now sets the pace.
The conversations get more honest and true.
The others feel her Godly rainbow hue.
She glorifies the Father up above in a lovely way.
Restarting many an onlooker’s day.
Always Speak The Truth
Never tell a lie, speak the truth
Don't feel shy, speak the truth
Truth is grace, with shining face
Reflects one's glory, fills personality space
Truth is love, truth seed sow
Truth is gold, glitters and glow
Success in truth lies, which touches the skies
In testimony when spoken, it gives surprise
Truth verifies and dignifies, truth testifies and horrifies
Truth magnifies and glorifies, truth surmise and beautifies
Truth is power, odors of flower
Truth is dignity, each minute each hour
Never tell a lie, speak the truth
Don't feel shy, speak the truth
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