From Crown to Sole, the Soul Needs a Crown

I looked up
And my eyes were pierced
I saw no more and I perceived even less
My junk has been littered
And my filth is a mess
My vision wasn’t much to begin with
I have trouble following directions
The vertical sight is full of ups and downs
And the horizontal Kingdom slays the east,
Sacrifices the West.

I listened up
And my ears were death
Or was it deaf? I can’t hear myself think
My harmonious sound is drowned by a fountain of truth
My youth has gone by in a blink
The sounds of life are remotely mute
I’m fooled by the pseudonumb voice
From what I know, the nose and throat connect
The beat of another drummer reverberates my skull
And disrupts the Trinity link.

I stood up
And my head hurts.
I’m dark, dumb, and weak.
The vertigo of my will makes my soul bleak
The God of my head gives strength to my feet.



There is a Devil on my Bootstrap

I stumbled to the finish line today

The cheers from the crowd

Transformed into cries of despair

When i thought it was over

I was told to keep going

And i looked at those much braver than myself

And said,

“there is a devil on my bootstrap.”

Their faces contorted,

Like a piece of paper draped over a flame,

their compassion ashed into the meloncholic mist

And rested upon my head,

Forming a tarnished ring

Where a champion’s wreath should rest.

Rather than hearing, “well done , thou good and faithful servant,”

When i gushed, “lord, LORD!”

They said, “i never knew you, depart from us.”

In my time of malnourished need,

Exhaustion from walking two miles,

When i could have walked one alone

I felt betrayed,

My own personal Judas, a wolf in christian’s clothing

Turned the other cheek, and exposed the lines of their face

And it etched a jigsaw compassion upon my heart.

Rather than hold my head high

I bowed my head, closed my eyes

And prayed that this burden

Would be loosed from my heels,

Giving strength to these weary thighs,

So that the remainder of this journey

Would heal my hope to attain that prize.


I’ve been caught in the safety net

squirming to be, trapped in a sea

a fish out of water, wishing to be wet

Prepared for dinner

on a table that has ceased to be set

stick a fork in me, I’m done

The knife has gutted my debt,

did you introduce yourself before we met?

Finish your great work in me–

balance the scales of justice in my heart

repair the guild that is my flesh, and Your spirit

Cast the line, I’ll bite

For too long I’ve swam underwater

I’m coming to the surface before I depart.