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Poems

Precious Guest
The Call
A New Creation
Fear of Man
The Unsearchable Ways of God
The Desert
Humility
War Games
Grabbing
City Dwellers
Evolution – A Poem of Tact, Diplomacy, and Gentle Persuasion
Abortion
The Specter of Fear
Atheists Cry
Judging
The Rest of God
We Are Branches, We Are One
The Wild
Have You Any Idea?
Desolation
Uncertainty
Resilience
Eggs
Money
All You Religious
The Sword
Delay
Bellyache, Bellyache
Friend, Are You?
Pioneers
Ode to a Harlot
The Higher Plane
Water Does Not Always Find the Lowest Level
The Chameleon
The Frenzy of Life
The Twice Dead
The Child of Evil
Terrible Good
Truth
The Vices’ Voices
A Sunset Seen
Help in Disguise
Help
Rools Four Inglish Spelling
I See a Boy
The Fire of God
Mystery
Immaturity
Periphery
God Reigns Supreme
Alone
Emptiness Within
I, The Wealthy Outcast
Day of Jubilee
My Boy
Come with Me
Two Adams
Bitterness
Stoning the Mirror

Related posts:

Friend, Are You?
The concept and definition of friendship the world has pales in comparison to what the Lord calls it. In fact, there is only contrast and no comparison. Friendship in the world means to receive, to have those who are an advantage. It is a self-centered thing. “I have a lot of friends.” And those friends are there to receive too. True friendship lays down the life in wisdom and understanding. True friendship is founded on truth, justice, righteousness (right doing and being). It is more interested in giving than receiving. More, I say, because there needs to be both. The only good friend is a dead one, dead to self and to the world, but alive unto God, our One True Friend. Friend, where will you be when I fall? Can you tell what you have? Do you know who I am? Take your hand and reach down deep within yourself, As deep as you can go. See what you come up with. Do you know why I am here? Have you known the price? Have you known there is a price? Have you known that the price quite consumes the goods? There is no time to muse and play; Death and life are as night and day. Choose to live and you cannot die But choose to die and you will live; There is no life but in death. There is no friend but one who knows The price of life. Can I introduce you to the Friend? Are you able to come to where He is? Which do you choose, to stay or come? We are ready to receive; Are you ready to be received? When the fire falls next week, Where will you be? The lines are...
The Child of Evil
While servants of the prince of darkness present themselves as angels of love and goodness, they grant their victims in part those things the flesh desires to have without cost of life. Souls are thus ensnared in their own selfishness. "I gave my child all it wanted. I spared nothing. What more could I have done?" laments the parent whose child is now on drugs or in prison or dead. How ironic that the sure path to destruction is receiving at request all that one could ask for! How ironic that our way to peace and fulfillment is in denial, hardship and deprivation until the final day! The epitome of selfishness: "I want," it declares; "I want it all," it demands; "I want it all now," it screams. It loves to be pampered and cuddled. It has no notion of cost to another, No care for one's needs or desires Other than its own. When not obliged, Its world stands still, Its heart bound in the thing it wants. A thousand things a day it wants. "My way!" it cries, Not for reason's sake nor truth, Not for right nor even good, But for self, and when denied, It pouts; Sullen and resentful, It eats itself And those around Unless it gets its way. The child of evil is ruled By its passions And its whims, By its ignorance And its needs so perceived. At every turn it cries Unless it gets its way; It clings to itself to live, Held in the grip of death.   But deliverance comes As an enemy, In the form of a rod, The rod of chastening, of discipline, ...
Help
We are all in need of help. But is it the noun or the verb we need?   Woe is me! How can this be? Where is that help I have sought? Nothing but wretched know-it-alls Come to disturb my thought - and my peace.   Peace? What peace? What am I saying? Who am I trying to kid? If this is peace then give me war And I shall rest and sleep and snore.   Time passed on and matters grew worse. I soon lost all that I had. My friends had gone their merry old ways, My family too was gone. My business failed, uncertainty prevailed; I slowly began to wrestle with myself For a change.   What's this? A knock? A tiny knock? I haven't had a knock since that beggar came by! I wonder who it might be? Eh? A whimper? A sniffing? A sobbing? More trouble! Add fuel to the fire! Is there no rest for the wicked?!   I opened the door and there stood a boy, One hand over his eyes and one on his knee, From where trickled blood to my doorstep! Sir! the lad cried with tear-stained face, I stumbled and fell just in front of your place. I have nobody to help me. Are you a doctor or someone to bind my wound?   Angered at first at the gory mess, I nearly chased him away. But though I knew I was only a laborer, He had flattered me with his question.   Fancy me a doctor!? “Lad, you have saved your knee,” I thought. “Oh, very well, come in, come in. We'll see what to do with your wound.”   I bound up his leg and sent him away, Not...
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