Friday night you and your boys went out to eat

Then they hung out, but you came home around three
If six of y'all went out
Then four of you were really cheap
'Cause only two of you had dinner
I found your credit card receipt

It's not right but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Pack your bags up and leave
And don't you dare come running back to me

It's not right but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Close the door behind you leave your key
I'd rather be alone than unhappy

I pack your bags so you can leave town for a week (yes I am)
The phone rings and then you look at me (Why'd you turn and look at me)
You said it was one of your friends, down on 54th Street (boy)
So why did 213 show up on your caller ID

I've been through all this before
So how could you think
That I would stand around and take some more
Things are gonna change
'Cause I won't be your fool anymore
That's why you have to leave
So don't turn around to see my face
There's no more tears left here for you to see

Was it really worth you going out like that
See I'm moving on and I refuse to turn back
See all of this time I thought I had somebody down for Whitney
It turns out, you were making a fool of me

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Pack your bags up and leave
And don't you dare come running back to me

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Close the door behind you leave your key
I'd rather be alone than unhappy

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Pack your bags up and leave
And don't you dare come running back to me

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Close the door behind you leave your key
I'd rather be alone than unhappy

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Pack your bags up and leave
And don't you dare come running back to me

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Close the door behind you leave your key
I'd rather be alone than unhappy

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Pack your bags up and leave
And don't you dare come running back to me

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Close the door behind you leave your key
I'd rather be alone than unhappy

It's not right, but it's okay
I'm gonna make it anyway
Pack your bags up and leave

Take me to my Nineveh

 

The heart is tired, the body too.

…Spirit has been thoroughly decimated

All of me is finished, tired & dead

Let me listen with bated attention,

To the wilful nonsense of the saints,

Open will you,

Divinely so,

my unwilling ears,

 to hear against the tide of my emotions,

the power, glory, & the sermons of the saints…

 

I am a bystander,

 wishing to ascend with the lightest yoke on my back,

Yours is an easy one to carry,

Lift my head

You glorious on from Nazareth…

 

The vision ahead is a murky one,

And I was told your presence is a faint one

I dare seek it anyway

 

Take me to my Nineveh

Like the tentative heartbeat of a new beginning,
I’m fearful but ready for launch,
On the brink of my tattered mortality,

Loving the embrace of your spirit, Lord,
 I don’t mind outpacing time
To depart earth and launch for heaven, please call for me.

I sing & I pray & long to see
 the full consequence of my hallelujahs
I think I’m okay.

I’ve rescinded  the other path,
I’m in this for the long haul,
The road ahead is a mighty one,

I’m still finding my way,
I’m ready to live...
guide your child.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoC1ec-lYps

Holy thunder of very gentle disposition,
I stand, a happy moral outcast,
Known & loved at my core,
saved by the meek lamb from Nazareth,

As a lonely sojourner he’s carried my yoke,
Relieving me of the wrath of the prudish gods,
He is a special God, a lovely one
Quietly reigning over coherent minions...

Worthy is this carpenter,
who rummaged through the
debris of earnest churchmen & beautiful virgins,
Loving them in their hidden unloveliness,

He is the one,
Worthy of my expedition here on earth,
He is the one worth knowing, through scripture, prayer & song.
He is the one worth finding,

He quiets the longing in my heart,
& cleans out the germs of my soul’s unrest.
I stand a happy outcast with many many sins,
adorned graciously by a heavy cross & a Loving God.

...this is amazing grace.
thank you.

                               
 

a new year,

a new decade,

a new chapter on the open canvass

Let God draw his finest on this one,

Let it be beautiful even in the trenches,

May the anguish of the saints be tended to in the secret place

May the blissful abandon of heretics be laid down in the dust

Whatever rises, whatever emerges from the onslaught of this new era,

May we wrestle against it with sweet angels on our side.

On the sick beds of departing souls

Even there, may we toil against the enemy.

And dodge that celestial exile

And launch into the eternal galaxies we prayed for,

Where the heavenly ones reside with Gods of menacing & holy rage

May the saint’s conscience rest from feigned motives

Of nobility, holiness and other falsified canonizations,

May the heart withstand the litigation of the heavenly council

With nothing grandeur to qualify itself for release…

A new year

A new decade

Authentic sinners on the canvass

The souls of misbegotten children

Let God decide what he will,

Let it be ugly, horrendous, torturous,

Whatever…as He wills,

a new year,

a new decade

a new era…

whatever…

where is the eternal one?

neurons have been dragged down that
parched course of 
pregnant thought but barren ideas..
one minute the brain feels the coming of a new understanding
the next thing, the glorious genius leaves with her muted revelations...

and where is God
 when there is poverty of
meaning and purpose in my blood
i am trying to understand the moral of my own life so far
stripping out of a broken heart some romantic comprehension
of at least why He'd harbor such struggles for me, this child-like woman...

i am not arriving at any resolution
the more i ask the more the head is dealt with nothing but inconvenient rhetorics
& i am not saying i am sad...
but my heart, my blood and this of course my melanin
need divine answers...
...to continue like Apostle Paul, on the narrow path
and to hold on to  the encumbering faith of the saints.

 abstracts & lousy rhetorics,
Feeding my mind with exciting drivel from  realists
I hear what they say, it makes sense especially when I’m desperate,

heaven remains quiet 
leaving me to the science & reasoning of brainy unbelievers,
They talk, they reason ~ supreme perceptions all round,
impressive if you’re smart.
Their genius  confined to the sufficiency of the 6 human senses...


The body is enough and my neurons are tired
arguing  about things...
I stay doubting my doubts & beliefs alike,
I’m no longer imploding from
Within the limits of my own understanding,

I’ve realesed that tension to the mercy of Him,
For too long my faculties have toiled within
The limits of my manufactured reality,

Now I sit with my tiny head
Waiting to receive an understanding
of the sort of stuff that resides outside the boundaries of science,

I am not fighting anyone,
I just want to listen to the silence of the other side...