Long Introspectionlife Poems
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I am born in this world, but I know not why;
Yet is a plan of mystery, a project in the mind of God.
He is holy and I ought to be holy,
I am His property, and He's my Eternal Designer,
He hath made me in His Image, and I ought to reflect His,
He hath made the world for me, and I ought to live for Him,
He's the ONE dwelt awhile on earth in flesh,
And I ought to know this mystery in which my credits lie.
His plan of redemption is the grand project,
And my life for Him ought to be my credits.
But where do I stand with my'credits'?
I have no virtues on my part as engulfed in desires,
I dream on earthly 'values' gripped in fear,
I lay projects on my own; but crumpled in debits.
I reap failures with my self-styled ideosyncracies,
For I deny the Truth of the Eternal Engineer.
How can I earn credits if I incline myself to myself,
And forget the statutes of the Maker of the Life Project?
My pains will turn joy if I add my projects to my credits,
My failures will turn success if I do my projects without debits.
What if my projects are done in selfish motive?
So, here lies the way to escape debits without Self, but with HIM.
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I ‘m standing at the crossroads
Wondering which way to go
Do I walk the road less traveled
Or the street that no one knows
Will I tread upon that winding path
That seems to go nowhere
Adventurous in my journey
do I prefer to share?
I’m standing at the crossroads
There is no turning back
When I look I see sweet memories
That put my life on track
I have strolled familiar roads before
They have brought me to this place
I will take the time to ponder
The future I will face
I’m standing at the cross roads
These eyes take me near and far
From the friends that I see passing by
To the brightness of an evening star
I’ll approach each day with wonder
With each careful step I take
walking this road to a different beat
to the life that I will make
Form:
I am tired of being told "no"
This is my life even though
You think that you know best
Decision is made and not in jest.
I will stand strong in my creed
Do not think that this in deed
An idle choice I am making
And our love you are not forsaking.
Our love is not a secret to be kept
A sin that under the rug must be swept.
It is a love that is rare and true
Can you see it? Have you a clue?
If not then I shall just walk way
No matter the pain, will not sway.
For this is the last time I will cry
And be thought of as a huge lie.
I am moving forward now
I shall keep my newest vow
With or without you
I will begin life anew.
Form:
My escape to prison.
Was a necessary exile.
I couldn't take the daily grind.
So I live life in denial.
It's a solitary confinement.
I'm let out at supper time.
I used to think I was hell bent.
But now life is just sublime.
I'm lost within these four walls.
The guards have gone to sleep.
I'm not allowed outgoing calls.
So I don't make a peep.
Like Job, I sit and lye in wait.
For God to settle scores.
And finally open heavens gate.
To escape these evil chores.
Within the time one has to live.
We do what we can do.
The man upstairs says he'll forgive.
But I still search for a clue.
I find my time is almost up.
It slowly slipped away.
And now there's nothing in my cup.
And no more debt to pay.
Why have I lived so long?
I did everything when I was young
I had everything
My whole life was ahead of me
I was immortal
I did so many things where I could have died
Where I should have died
Why didn’t I?
The cliffs I climbed without a rope
Riding my bike down steep ravines
Making love to women I didn’t know
I should have known better
People told me to think
Remember the dangers
Why didn’t I listen?
I never knew
I was immortal
I knew I could never be hurt
My life was mine and mine alone
I didn’t know
It was just mine on a loan
Needed to be protected until it was too late
Now I lie in an ebony box
My friends and family walk by
Crying
And I know that I was not immortal
I was just a fool
I took one too many chances
And now I will never go old
Never be able to make a right decision
Never again
Form:
Each artist stroke created an illusion of depth, color, and placement by contasting colors,
lights and darks the picture comes alive...A life that carries on into hearts and minds as long
as that picture lives...It seems as though one know this person through the eyes of the
artist...In pictures where one knows just knows that someone else is there...One's
imagination can run wild with ideas of who this person is and what relationship to others in
the painting...As in "Summertime" 1894-1895 Mary Cassatt (1845-1926) Oil on Canvas..Who
is rowing the boat? He must really love this lovely delicate woman and precious child to row
the boat for their enjoyment...He must look at her with eyes of love that says I would do
anything for you even lay down my life if necessary..