Whats the point.
You were right.

I dont got no more fight.

I really cant go on.
Hide me in a closet.

Take me to the bank deposit.

What good am I, really?
You dont even see me.

You dont wanna be me.

Screw this place.
Never mind, screw it all.

I should just take a fall.

If I ran away... that'd be good.
Some far away place.

Maybe outer space.

Shut that door, slip out the back.
You dont even know Im gone.

You wont find my footprints on the lawn.

Im no good.
Never have been.

Drown me in a bottle of gin.

Stay away from me.
I wont let you get close.

Im not a man...just a ghost.


the other side of the boat

Throughout the night, I search in vain
This net is empty still

But through the cloudless empty skies

My soul is dark and filled

Here, in hiding, I hide my heart

I wont recall His face

But in the quite calm of night

I ache for His embrace

The battered body hanging limp

Upon the cursed tree

While others watched His life depart

I chose to turn and flee

No carpenter can mend this break

No lungs should breath these breaths

The rapid rise of straining sighs

And pain as deep as death

"Cast your net again, my friend

But on the other side"

No man should dare to doubt my strength!

This anger, on my pride!

Exhausted limbs and weary hands

What brashness questions this!

But in His voice, a memory stirs

My jilted choice amiss

Is it...this man, oh can it be
I stare through pooling tears

The man, the One, but no...

Be gone, these mortal fears!

I leave the outline of the man

And quell the rising doubt

"His voice!  No...His voice!"

I stand, but reel in mind

The voice of beauty and of grace

Across the foaming brine!

I cast my net across the bow

Into the silent sea

Then tugs the rope against my hands

What weight! Crushed to bended knee!

Agony, release! I must now know

What man is on the shore

I turn to face the voice of whom

Cruel death could hold no more

The eyes of love are locked with mine

These eyes that could not see

It is the one who beckons still

For everyone like me

John 21:6-7


On my tombstone's written thusly
"one who marked his pathway well"

In the hours of the testing
Darkness came and darkness fell

But just as simply in a moment
freedom over conquered hell.


dancing on my knees

To dance for others,
Or hold you near.

To see the face
Of yours so clear.

In every action,
And every thought.

I am asking
To be taught.

To sing of heights,
To mourn in depths.

To run to you,
With no regrets.

My actions cold,
And my heart bereaved.

Forgive me for
Your Spirit grieved.

To sense direction,
From unseen hands.

To close my mouth,
With holy bands.

Im not what I,
Desire to be.

If you would,
Please set me free.

I weary of my weary state,
And spit I out, myself I hate.

You alone are goodness all,
So to my stubborn knees I fall.


The End of Death~Revelation 1:18

salient bars held in place, resilient, twisted knots
form the window sill that frames an anguished tortured plot

beneath the frame a shadow cast in dim and roughened hue
bequeathed by one in absent joy, boding an eschew

unseen hands writhe in pain, beneath a quilt of shame
lightless eyes closed tight to veil the prisoner from his blame

hope has fled, all traces gone, without a shred of peace
darkened flames and muted cries have spoken, "unreleased"

guilt betrays the captive here, alone and silent mourns
infiltrated sovereignty, divinity he scorned

designed by sin, made firm by choice, held in place by One
for Death ( his name ) will not be freed by Father's favored Son

Blasting light comes through the cell as Jesus walks the hall
toward Deaths domain, in brilliant white, the Son has come to call

Terror grips the conquered one, as steadily He grows nearer
valiant speaks the awesome Lord, and silent sits the hearer

"I hold the keys to every door, forever I am King
your power vexed and vanquished now...Death, where is thy sting?"


Job 18:17-21

on the tombstone written thusly
one who marked his journey well
"in my time I trusted nothing
what lies beneath is now a shell"

desperation, seperation
searching, seeking, never found
foment torment, tattered doormat
broken pieces heaped in mounds

remove the memory of the wicked
perish it from lips and mind
no one speaks the names forgotten
whose enemy was god divine