Melt

Put me on the stove and melt me
Again ... and again ... and again
Your heat
Turning me on
Your touch
Smoother than butter
Delicious to the taste
Creamy and soft
You bring a smile to my face
You make me laugh
You're ... wonderful

One Handed

This path has been so hard to journey down,
trudging slowly empty palmed.
I know life will never be perfect, but it seems better
in the loving, supportive company of another fallible human.
The warmth, the touch, the love needed in life
shared with them working towards creation.

Forbidden Fruit

I've tasted your forbidden fruit.
Mmmmmm.  Its delectable drops still linger in my mouth.
I think I'm so strong,
yet you nearly made me so easy.
You melted me like butter.
So soft to the touch, yet aggressive.
You tickled me inside and out.
You gave me your all, unexpectedly surprising.
Do not apologize.
It was worth it.
And now, I want more.
Help me laugh again in delighted giddiness.
Can't help but smile every time it all settles back upon my mind.
I'm very mindful and thankful that this didn't happen in earlier times
because they'd have killed us or locked us both up.
I like my freedom.
I still want more.

A Life Worth Living

The mirage has been swept away
exposing you for who you truly are.
While I appreciate the transparency,
it saddens me deeply.
You are so much more than these insecurities
which bind and blind you.
Real talk.  You rob yourself of who you
were always meant to be.
It drives us apart, an unwelcomed effect.
Yet, I see I have a choice, I have a voice.
And, I cannot let mine be silent or apathetic.
A life of excellence is what I must passionately pursue.
Don't get me wrong though.
How I truly wish to my core our relationships could intertwine
like rivers aligning, moving forward toward the same end.

Surfer

I have been overwhelmed,
my emotions riding atop the waves
drowning me.

Unsatiated.  You will not compromise.
I am left to wonder, to simply let go.
Such a difficult path.

Tumult after tumult comes against me.
But I have no arms to surf these waves.
You offer me no rope, push me under.

Those looking from the sandy shore stand aghast.
Nightmares.  Horror.
Who blandished beach flags to blush?

There is no joy. 
I close my mouth to avoid spewing the swallowed saltiness.
The water has made my senses go numb.

Oh how unlikely a hero!
Here comes the fly flitting out to meet me!
Sweet, alluring buzz.  You listen to and calm my cries.

Your vast host of eyes offer gifted vision.
New perspectives.  Solutions.  Calmness.
I am saved.  Breathing.  Living.

I am letting go and moving on.
A better person.
Weathered swimmer blissfully drinking in the waves' drumroll.

Untitled

I love to push my head into your breasts
Your delicate body tickling my nose
Intoxicating me with your fragrant aromas

Your color stirs passion within me
Reminding me of fine, aged wines
That satisfy the senses

I cannot help but stop
And take you into my hands
Spending an intimate moment with you

I am not your only lover though
The bees are charmed by your beauty
And come to dance around and inside of you

I know others take notice of you
But they remain invisible to me
As I stop to delight in the flowers frequently

In this city, filled with drifting smoke,
Random animal defecation, and rubbish,
I am grateful for your presence and aromatherapy

Thrive stunning flora!
Call forth others to be drawn to you
Breathe life here and invigorate

The Vertedero

Smoke drifts my way painting the sky with a small ghoulish streak
   revealing the path to your fire
It's a cold morning and breezy adding to the chill,
   the chill that you've grown to call normal
As you sit outside your tattered and faded patchwork tent, if you can call it that,
   your simple home here in The Vertedero
The fire isn't just to fight off the icy blasts of wind,
   but it's your functional stove to cook the drugs you'll consume minutes later
Your body wastes away as broken dreams and shattered love cling to your skin
   like the caked on, muddy and foul smelling clothes you wear
You're brown attire is accessorized with a piece of rope knotted around your waist, your belt,
   and two shoes that don't match, one encased in plastic bags, both of which are several sizes too big
The police enter now, they circle but do absolutely nothing on this patrol run
   Other cars come and go quickly, stopping in this war zone for drugs and prostitution
Though they come here often, there are no friends in this world,
   merely takers and users and selfish gain
I watch beside the locked and silent whitewashed church
   as four men sit exchanging needles inside the car parked next to me
Sanity flees and hysteria from heroin arises as needles hang from limbs and crack vapor arises
   Within steps of your dementia I stand offering tangible help, food and drink and the hope of Christ
But you blind your eyes with fiendish drugs and devilish lies
   Thus, the battle goes on in this neglected war zone for your soul and life
Mere steps from the exit road filled with life and hopeful opportunity

Sparked in Sparkhill

I:
I touched your beard, soft and long,
    like nimble threads woven together,
And wondered if my accident became your sin
    because I know you're a Muslim by the way you dress
I wish we could talk again outside of this grocery setting
    though I'm sure I'd be called an adulterer and stoned
Were this interaction to occur in other countries
 
In truth it makes me smile both outwardly and inwardly
    that you speak to me now with flirtation in your voice
I'm mutually attracted to your mocha and cappuccino complexions
    but I value my liberty and education, mindfully appreciating them often
I will not belittle my sex or shackle myself simply
    because God in His perfect will chose to create me female
There are so many questions I wish to ask you
    such as, "What do you call this hat you wear?
What is that kind of garment known as?"

II:
Clothed in black, I see only your eyes and hands
Yet, through your veil I see your smiling eyes
I notice the little, carefully sewn sparkles and beads that distinguish your burka from others
A woman in her 40s or 50s passes by
She speaks not a word, her hands covered with gloves
Others come through wearing saris, modern and conservative,
The mixture continues
More women walk past clothed by religion
While their husbands and children dress to blend with the rest of society
Can I enter your sexistly segregated world over many cups of tea?

III:
She stands at the door, head bent low, eyes to the ground, while you enter our shop.
You've been here many times, bought from us before.
"I'm shopping for what she likes," you say.  Are you really?
Is it truly her that desires this minuscule, sheer, flaming red thong for sexual pleasures?
Do you control every aspect of her life or can she speak out devoid of fear?
Now you stand before us saying you need to return them.
You say she didn't like them.  My mind wonders as to the reason.
Did she reject you sexually, or is it simply your gift she rejected?
Will you cause her harm if those be the reasons?

IV:
Little children passing by,
sometimes answering back when I say "hi"
Modern dress, they blend in with others
Contrasting sharply with their religiously dressed mothers
I notice the fathers dressed either way
No time for asking why, they all leave without delay

From Whence Does My Help Come From? (Song)

From whence does my help come from?

My help comes from you

You are my light, my guide, my hope

You are my king, my love, my strength


From whence does my victory come?

My victory comes from you

You are my light, my guide, my hope

You are my king, my love, my strength


When the mighty tides rise against me

When they seek to overwhelm me

I will trust You, my faith shall not be moved

Because You are love, You are hope, You are strength


You are my light, my guide, my hope

You are my king, my love, my strength

For Easter 2012

I have risen from the ashes
Not in my power or my own strength
But through Your blood and the Hope you spoke into my life

You made manifest Your presence and shook off the Devil's lies
When You reached down into my pit and scooped me into Your arms
Nursing me to health with merciful grace

The enemy fled because You said, "No more! He is mine.
I have bought him. I have forgiven her.
They are my children, my righteous beloveds."

Though the enemy fled, he returns with enchanting vices time and time again
I look down upon my arms and see the visible scars
The memories of past pains rise to the surface

And in these dark nights of the soul, these times of doubt
You compel my mind to see my scars upon Your Son Jesus
His painful stripes piercing to the bone, unrecognizable to mankind,
    blood pouring forth showering humanity with forgiveness and love

Exchanged wounds, I live in You, live because of You
My never-ending liberty paid on the cross, my life anew
Rising up like Your body was revived in three days time

Oh Jesus, be our hope eternal, unconditional, and fill us with Your love
Let our humbled, repentant hearts walk forward in You
    loosing shackled brothers and sisters
We cry out for humanity's resuscitation and well-being. Amen.

When I Think of Jesus

LOVE, oh how unfathomable it is to consider it moved you into our midst as Immanuel.

DEATH eventually came to you as you purposed to lavish unspeakable depths of love upon us even in your final moments.

MERCY arose like quickened umption long before buried. And so, we became undeserved but beloved benefactors of forgiveness and kindness.

STRONG. How infinitely strong you are, you've always been! Creator of the universe with a mere word and yet He who gently comforts us in darkest of times

Like yours upon the CROSS. You let yourself be slaughtered that we may live freely and fully.

You returned to us through the RESURRECTION embodying within your very bones

LIFE.

Now NEWNESS arises within us, surging in our blood and DNA because it is mingled with yours.

What can we do except give you ALL AUTHORITY, the full authority that has always belonged to you but that you did not force upon us.

We rise up to give you CELEBRATION both now in who we are and who we'll become as we reign with you in Heaven.

Hell

There is a different kind of Hell,
a pain I know not yet of
It is the pain of a mother separated from her children
a sadness that rend the heart until it beats not and kills the soul
Yet in this moment, I am the dunce,
my ignorance in plain view
My heart breaks as I recognize that I am void
of more empathy to comfort my dear hurting friend standing before me now
Thus Hell births Hell as I listen
motionless like a mannequin
Desiring to help but held captive
by my lifeless, plastic skin