Battle....

I’m not gonna get in the ring with you tonight

I know you made me and you have the right

But you just squeezed the very last drop of fight

From your girl who can no longer stand in your light

 

Yeah, go ahead and take some more!

Isn’t that what you sent me here for?

To drag me right up to their beautiful faces

And rub my nose in those privileged places

Only to turn me out by my ear

Writhing in pain from my want and my fear

 

While the violins play “Maybe next time, my dear”

Hell yes, I’m angry! And I don’t mind saying

That, tonight I just don’t feel much like praying

And I know that you love me despite how I feel

Sometimes, I just wish that you were not REAL

 

So I could go on feeling bitter self-pity

Without the conviction of being a city

Up high on hill where light can be seen

I just wanna live somewhere safe -  in between

The Heaven and Hell that play catch with my soul

And inquire with knives “Are you half?  Are you whole?”

 

But you love me too much and you won’t let me go

And somehow I lift up my face and I know

That no matter how I may feel at this moment

I will rise up tomorrow and face my opponent

Staring at me in that ugly dark mirror

And your face will shine through, even brighter and clearer

Whispering sweetly “I’ve never been nearer”….

But tonight, you are simply nowhere to be found

I can neither abase, nor can I abound

The best I can do is to utter a sound

From worship’s despair “Once Lost, Now Found”

 

Just another day’s work on life’s battle ground….

 

Hello Again, October...

Hello again, October...
It's good to see your face
Oh how those umber-misted cheeks
They liven up this place!

Your scent of spice and earthen musk
Is magic potpourri
That sifts through all my days gone by
And sets the sweetest free

And how I fancy your caress
Of cool and gentle breezes
You bring relief from summer's heat
With playful winter teases

You're a soothing invitation
To bake a pumpkin pie
And sip on apple cider
By the season's first firelight

And never such a spectacle
Do these "awed" eyes behold
As you breathe new life to foliage
In shades of red and gold

And even as your colors fade
And make their great descent
How graceful they are falling
Like angels Heaven sent

And on your farewell's eve
In the nakedness of day....
Your beauty overwhelms me still...
Oh won't you longer stay?

Deadly Tongue

It’s funny how one little thing
A fellow man can say
Can pierce a heart and thrust it
Into spiritual decay

And most would never fathom
What torture they impose
With words that leave the mouth too fast
Like venom through a hose

She didn’t even know me
But couldn’t hold her tongue
And like a charmed and deadly snake
It slithered out and swung

But poised, I saw it coming
And I, too quick to stay
And wait for her to strike me dead
With what she had to say

One lunge left and one lunge right
And backward paces swift
I dodged those sharp, accusing fangs
Yet stepped right off a cliff

And in a canyon lying
In pieces on the ground
Could not command myself to move
Nor utter slightest sound

Now IRONY is circling in
To feed upon my plight
Where fear and self-preserving flesh
Save not, but paid with life

Hope on its Feet

It was at the peak of chaos in an already tumultuous time in my life and the fiery darts just didn’t seem to stop coming.  I spent years fighting a war with a handful of little stones of Hope and on that day, I felt like I had thrown the last stone…there was nothing left but me and a bloodthirsty war.  And there I sat, in my driveway, head in my hands, tasting my tears of defeat, unloading my cares onto the shoulders of God.  That’s when I saw it…a beetle lying on its back, unable to help himself get on his feet.  He was unquestionably stuck in a deadly predicament, flailing his little extremities about vigorously.  I watched as the motion of panic slowed in his legs and I wondered what was being signified by that fading of movement…the fading of panic or the fading of Hope?  My guess was the latter.  I am ashamed to say it, but before that moment, there was a good chance that I would simply squash that beetle simply because I have defined them as ugly, creepy creatures and I don’t want to share my personal space with all that creepiness.  But that day, I saw myself when I looked at that beetle.  He just needed someone to come along and help him instead of try to squash him because of fear or discomfort or whatever else he might evoke in other creatures.

So I gently flipped him over onto his feet and smiled as I watched him scurry to the next opportunity.  I don’t know what was waiting for him…he could have been some bird’s dinner that very evening or maybe he will outlive me and tell all of his great grand beetles the story about how some creepy-looking giant saved him from peril.  I just know that we all deserve a little help now and then, for no other reason than the fact that we are human beings and we are supposed to help each other.  Sometimes we will be the helper and at other times, we will be the one in need.  I was trying to imagine how silly it would be to hear that beetle say to me “Oh, don’t trouble yourself with all that effort of turning me over…I will be fine.  I got this!”

Yeah……right. 

Yet that’s what I want to do when I can’t seem to get on my feet on my own.  I want to pretend I don’t need help and that it’s too much trouble for others to help me.  The truth is…I don’t like feeling vulnerable and in need.  I don’t want to have to trust people and I don’t want to believe that I just might be worth the support or efforts of those around me…who love me or just want to help because they’ve spent some time panicking on their crunchy backs in someone’s driveway before and they understand that we can’t do LIFE all by ourselves.

That was less than two months ago.  I am still in this storm, but I’m learning how to stand in it and dig into the soil beneath my feet to brace myself when the winds get rough.  And when I get knocked down, I’m getting up quicker and quicker and before I know it, I am smiling…even laughing…knowing this too shall pass and as each day moves into the next, I am getting further and further from the Egypt of my soul and I am less and less of a slave and more and more myself because of what others are doing for me.   We are not self-made people.  We are made by a God who loves and cherishes us no matter what.  And we are here on this earth to give Him glory and we do that by loving others like He loves us.  Despite the fact that we will always fall short of His display of love, we are not off the hook to do our best with whatever and whomever we have to work with.  So I want to humbly thank everyone who has ever helped me or shown me love, friendship, support and kindness.  I would have no strength at all if not for your existence.  Without you, I am bird food at best.

Ten Dollar Girl

Ten dollar girl in a ten dollar skirt
Waving ‘em down on their way out to work
Cuz the freaks don’t just come out at night, you know
You’re always on the clock in The Life of a Ho

A car pulls up
She jumps inside
And takes him for a
Dirty ride
Emerging with
A new fat lip
And fresh belt marks
On legs and hips

But no one sees
And no one cares
She’s just a “Ho”
Who rents her wares

To men
Like her father
And his friends

You see,
If we go back 12 short years before
that day the world pronounced her a
WHORE
You’ll find a baby
Newly born

But 12 years can break a soul with scorn

So perfectly precious
The world at her feet
With so much potential
For a front row seat

But the truth never found its way
Into her heart
About who she was
And all she would impart

On a world that needed her gifts
And her love
But the lies won over
When push came to shove

Her mama never loved her
And made her aware
That if she disappeared
Nobody would care
“Button that lip
While I’m beating your ass!”
And Daddy just stares at the TV

And laughs

“That show sure is funny!”
And the volume is loud
On purpose - He’s chillin’
For cryin’ out loud!

5 years old
She sleeps on the floor
Night time
Brings the sound of a door
Opening
Slowly

A virgin no more

Innocence running down her legs
Never to return again
By 7 miserable years of age
She’s full of fear and captive RAGE
She dreams of dancing on a stage

Naked

For jerks who smell like beer and talk shit
“Come over here, sweetie and show me your tits!”
Her dreams now whittled down to
THIS

But one childhood is all we get
So by the tender age of 10
She’s been with far too many men
But who can call them men anyway?
Cowards are what I would say

But age 11 . . . That was the year
Her night in shining armor appeared
Tall, smooth-talker, singing his song
Three times her age & ten times as strong
He smelled her hunger
From miles away
It won’t take much to make her play
His game . . .

Flowers
Name Brands
And a few fancy meals
She’s loving the way
This guy makes her feel
She’s crippled by his tender
Embrace
Now she’s perfectly groomed
For that hard fall from grace

Not a shot in Hell
Not a hope
Nor prayer
When he tells her
“We need money . . . Dear”

She didn’t plan on this
Surprise!
He sees reluctance in her eyes
And makes her pay
Between her thighs

She won’t make that mistake again
And thus, her new career begins
Her title: “HO”
Her clients: YOU

That’s right,
I said YOU!
The pimps and the Johns
And the lawmakers too

The apathy-stricken
And those who will quicken
To condemn and to judge the used and abused
As though they were begging to be ill-accused
And shun a child who carries a shame
That belongs to a fool of another name

I’m talkin’ ‘bout YOU
The cops on the street
That treat them like a piece of meat

And neighbors on the brothel street
Who don’t report the things they see
And moms and dads who grave neglect
You set them up as first elect
For predators to leave them wrecked
For Life . . .
Is it over yet?

Doing “Life” at 12 years old
In ruthless heat
And bitter cold
When she should be goin’ to birthday parties
Doing homework and playing with Barbies

But she fell in love with a hustlin’ monster
Who did what good people don’t seem to want to
He told her nice things
And made her feel loved
And showered her with
Kisses and hugs
And gave her the things
Her poor heart dreamed of
Then

BAM!

It was over
Honeymoon no more
One day a child
Next day a whore
More lost and empty
Than ever before

Promises
Promises
She believes
She can’t afford to hurt
Or grieve
Last trick of the night and then she’s done
This makes number 21

Night falls on the busy street
Where friends and lovers come to meet
She watches as they walk on past
And hears a whisper . . .
“Free at Last!”

And Hope comes rising in her throat
Maybe one day
I can be like those people
Who walk past every night
And see no evil

But unfriendly eyes
Feed her lies
She swallows them whole
And they poison her soul

Those hypocrite eyes tell her
“Girl, get real!
You’re trash and nobody cares how you feel!”
They’re right, she thinks
I’m a Ho and so what?
At least I get paid for being a slut!
These squares on the street,
With their big fancy jobs and their big, fancy suits
They’re just big, fancy snobs!

They can keep their square-ass livin’
The street is where I wanna be chillin’
I don’t want to be no stupid bride
Having babies and jobs . . . and pride

She no longer feels human
Just a shell to be used
By an endless line of dirty old men
Just like her father
And his dirty old friends

Who use her up like a 50 cent condom
Then they go home and kiss the cheek of their daughters
One gets a kiss, the other ten dollars
“If that’s who they are, I don’t need no dam father”

Yes this is the glamorous, high-living world
Of a scandalous, criminal 12-year old girl...

FLY . . . .

O Firefly, Bright Firefly

Please let me join your flight     

And cheat that bitter darkness

On the wings of Truth & Light

O Bluebird, Lovely Bluebird
When you perch so near to soul
I long to wear your cobalt shade
And sing in colors bold

O Butterfly, Sweet Butterfly
Don’t leave me far behind
Calling out in agony
To a world that’s deaf and blind

Just take me when the evening light
First shows her lovely face
Into the mystery of night
And leave no sign or trace

Of anything I ever was

And what little that remains

And dance me into vapor

Slipping softly from my chains

Praying Over “The Incident”

To the young man in the parking lot who sat in his car doing something highly inappropriate while my daughter and I were getting back in the car:

You are very fortunate that my 10-year old daughter did not see what you were doing in your car because it would’ve taken all I had not to drag you out of your seat and go  Chuck Norris on you in public with your pants down.  That being said, I am thankful for all of us, but mostly my daughter, that she will grow another day closer to adulthood without having been scarred by things children should never have to see.  

I want you to know that even though it made me angry and I did not hesitate to call the cops on you, I know you will most likely not be caught for your actions and that makes my heart heavy.  Not because I want to see you punished, but because I want to see you healed.  I don’t know your story.  I don’t know why you did what you did today or how long you have been doing things like this or what other types of inappropriate things you may do now or in the future if something doesn’t stop you in your tracks.  I just know that punishment alone will not heal it.  So my prayer for you is this:

“Father, I saw one of your beloved children struggling today and you saw it too.  What he did hurt himself and others and I ask you to reveal that to him and give him the courage to seek the help he needs to overcome his struggle.  People think it’s funny, God.  But you are not laughing.  You see the pain and terror behind it.  Please show this man how much you love him and that he matters in this world and that you had more planned for him than THIS.  Please allow him to look at his own face in the mirror and see Jesus looking back at him.  Give him your glory in place of his shame and send him out into the world to help others who struggle in similar ways because Lord, you and I both know, there are FAR TOO MANY JUST JUST LIKE HIM.”

AMEN.