Zit

This is a freeverse/spoken word poem i have been working on. Its called Zit.



In the split second that you sat down I noticed it was there. A spot so discrete that by covering it you made it more obvious to me. Sploched on the side of your face as if to say:LOOK AT ME! I wouldn’t have cared if you had just left it there. It just seems a little bit unfair. In what sense you say? In the sense that sitting by a woman so fine, in all its meanings, I look like a pig in his slop. And you have the audacity to try to be cleaning it up? Who told you that was there? Was it your mother, father, brother, sister, lover or just some random mirror. Did it surprise you that there is something on your face that resembles the food you eat to the extent that for a moment you said, ill never eat that again! But ordered it for breakfast this morning. Don’t feel embarrassed, im just pointing out what you hoped noone would see! You obviously pushed it, and tried to pop it, or it would not have looked like your face fell into a giant pot of crawfish. Yes, its that bad! Do you feel so bad now that you worked so hard to make sure people cant see what you have? Its no disease, though it might look like it, in your face or in your cheeks, but its in your mind that I see the zit, that believe you me, has been ready for years, but you just cant seem to pop it. Oozing out all of this society that’s taught you that you can only be free by looking good and trim like that new tree outside your window. But when you want to sit in the shade and read a book, why do you think you always choose the old oak, that im sure will fall soon, and bust up my house. There is something in all of us, you see, whether or not we believe we need to look perfect all the time, there is always something more we chose to hide. honestly, there is nothing on your face.

Madness

The essence of anger and malice is in creating strife. Madness and anger are nothing alike. One is the reason we have so much pain yet the othere is the reason we call some insane. Collect a moment in your mind. Rewind it till you're in its place and ask yourself if madness was at stake? By what measure do you make such statements? Whom do you call sane?

If you measure your madness to yourself than sanity is but an individual perspective rather than an eternal objective. What definition have you given it, to escape responsibility and relationship? Or to be ones self free fram another, a mind on its own must rely on some essence, if truth or reality or God is at stake then without it the mind is as strong as butter-when melted becomes nothing more that soured milk from the utter.

Do me a favor and skip your semantics, tell me your madness and ill tell you my position on your antics. Untill then I must presume that madness is not transmitted, genetically nor inflicted. So next time you call someone mad realize this is an attribute you have given them, not one they might inherently posses.
Yet I regress, I am mad for spending so much time on this.

For what purpose are you here?

Pain.

For what purpose are you here?

All you do is cling yourself to my every being,

distracting me from seeing,

The only one to whom I should adhere.

Pain.

Inescapable mistreatment of my flesh,

My bones churning in distress!

God of heavens, see what has happened!

My soul was fallen, and now blackened .

Pain.

Through to the core, I'm begining to hate you more,

Only can I scream for my own discerning

Heart to settle the score.

Pain.

And yet, as I scream from within, my soul is atwist,

Somethings peering through this damp mist!

Pain.

Christ stands, his hand in mine, and I realize that he was dragging me all this time.

December is Here

December is Here.

Celebration is near, and yet my heart is at fear.

Fearing that man has forgotten the promise.

The promise of hope and life that is ageless.

December is here,

hopefully you have not forgotten why we celebrate.

everyone celebrates something which brings us joy,

the joy that sets us free from sins checkmate.

Boys rejoice for a single toy,

man rejoice! Salvation ahoy!

Faith dost seek understanding, but faith is not without understanding

like the man at war who fires without aiming.

It is true and hopeful,

this understanding is a requirement found in our Bible.

And yet we men fail to celebrate,

that we are released from human hate,

to a place of Christ-like fate.

December is here,

May our joy be fulfilled as the Son of Man appears.

Afraid

Face it.

You are afraid of something.

Something so dark and perturbing that it is inescapable.

Your heart is bound in fear to its very existence.

And yet, I attempt to pose a question about your fear:

Is it necessary?

Must you be afraid in order to live properly?

Is your life in need of fear?

Or has some strange creature taken you captive through fear. This creature of course, being yourself, in some ill manner.

What we do with our time molds us into what we make of our time.

Are you spending your time in fear?

If not, should you save some time for it?

love

is it an answer?

does it not become an excuse?

when was the last time you used it?

is it yours to give?

are we even right to try to guard love?

is it not an inescapable force that we bind down?

have you ever said it?

have you ever meant it?

how much does it ask of you?

how much do you ask of it?

love

there isnt much time left. Remember me, love, and I will remember you.

Forever Walking

As I walk, I learn.
I learn where to step.
I learn how to step.
My steps increase, and as they do, I walk further.
The further I walk the more I desire to continue walking.
As I walk, I learn.

Dont Stop Walking.

(no, this is not a commercial for Johnny Walkers...jaja.)