Broken gleams.
Broken dreams.
Broken boys.
Unspoken screams.
Cries behind eyes.
Washing away lies.
On knees,
a dream redeemed.
Retrained unchained.
Rises with surprises.
Dreaming. Balanced. Beaming.
Viewing entries in
Poetry
SPONTANEOUS
Stripped of the script,
Embraced by the unscripted,
My lip zipped till my mind,
Sifted, then lifted
Feeling the shift
From what was said
To the unsaid
Without dread of
What is to be said
So others can be led
Upstairs from despair
Nothing erroneous
About spontaneous.
Deep calls to deep
revealing everything is related
as is everyone being
made from the same clay
so it is stated.
As deep calls to deep
as faith calls forth more faith
as Ancient calls youth
since the days of old
answering the question
"What is Truth?"
based on what was told.
There's nothing new under the sun,
yet all becomes new by My Son.
For the truth, way, and life is My Son.
Truth becomes a lived reality
by commitment to Him, the One.
As deep calls to deep
I, the Lord, do all these things.
Hear me, your Father, as I sing.
I, the Ancient, call you my off-spring.
There's nothing new under the sun,
yet you grow newer by My Son.
Deep calls to deep as
I create prosperity
and create disaster.
So which above
is the Jar of Alabaster?
What seemed as waste
by one summation,
was transformed by Grace
into worship and adoration.
The Lord is sovereign.
I'm in his keep.
That's what I hear when deep sings to deep.
George Landolt
12/05/2004
What is doubt about?
It feels round about.
Do I doubt myself?
Put myself on the shelf?
Do I cast my shadow
a bit more shallow?
Creating a fallow
where growth has
something to follow.
What seems true about you
may be less true than is true.
Doubting one's wisdom is
to hear the voice that is true.
Truth, too good not to be true,
you can truly know through
which you truly know you.
One-upping too
It’s all about you
while stepping over me
thought you were through
one-upping me
how was I
when you were
one-upping me
I was stopped so I
could make it about you
There once was a boy who was a man who stood next to a man who was a boy.
The boy ask the man who he was.
The man began to talk about himself
until the boy interrupted and asked again
who he was. The man became irritated
and continued talking about himself.
The boy again asked who he was.
The man walked away angry that the boy
seemed to ignore everything he said.
Then, standing alone, the boy heard
a gentle voice inside of him saying
“Son, you are mine and thanks for asking”.
No way there is no way.
Come, Follow, Abide, Obey
I hear Him say.
No way there is no way
if you hear His voice today.
At work I say to pray for work.
Work is a way to say what I pray.
So work your way this day I say
to know the way so you can say
no way there is no way.
A tick without a tock an act without a knock
counter the block
blood on my sock
proverbs in stock
psalms to rock
know to unlock
sail from the dock
join the flock
around the clock
Come dance with me. Psalm 30:10-12 But before we dance, laugh with me. Job 8:20-21 If you can’t laugh, you might be a good dancer but you can’t follow as a leader because you take yourself too seriously(self-absorbed). Joy is the strength leading us out of the old song and dance routine of a life of mediocrity. Nehemiah 8:10-11
The Well of Grief where the troubles end well
while wounded and feeling the death grip of hell.
But my wounds drawing from the well of grief,
my brokeness, my anger, sense no relief.
Are these from the Father or the thief?
My heart? Dead, buried, or just broken?
Depending, is my reaction to what is spoken.
Or is the fact that I in the past would react,
when instead by faith I can now just act.
Shame distorts the well of grief
denying it to be the Mercy-seat,
a man of sorrows who washes our feet,
this holy affair where anger, we don’t meet.
The cross, Psalm 85:10, doubly sweet.
There once was a boy who was a man who stood next to a man who was a boy.
The boy ask the man who he was.
The man began to talk about himself
until the boy interrupted and asked again
who he was. The man became irritated
and continued talking about himself.
The boy again asked who he was.
The man walked away angry that the boy
seemed to ignore everything he said.
Then, standing alone, the boy heard
a gentle voice inside of him saying
"Son, you are mine and thanks for asking".
The Mat is where it's at!
Unfolding of the mat gives light to purpose and prize
as unfolding of God's Word gives light, making the simple wise.
The mat is protection to the athlete from the fall.
It softens the blow when you give it your all.
It's boundaries are there to guide and to direct
as well as determine the fullness of effect
which is the grace of God for the elect.
On it flow tears of joy and celebration
as well as suffering and false accusation.
Limiting experience to it's presence by rules of law
it's the Spirit of such that removes the flaw.
To win and not lose seems the task,
The crown of victory is the mask.
Guidance by the eye of the Father
through which to trust and obey.
It's not to win or lose
but Grace to be able to play.
To be "Pro Wrestling",
you're "For the Struggle"
now limiting other choices
that were hard to juggle.
Whether and how you endure
with a spiritual and/or physical limp
It's God's strength that makes the weaknesses and temptations exempt. 11/27/2003
Not a power play but empowering others. It is violent but with redemption. Not a laughing matter but a serious joy. Authoritative but tender. Craftsmanship but with personal depth. Idealistic but practical. Dancing the one step but for two or more. Rocking without declining. Speaking without freaking. Quietly opening without creaking. Running without streaking.
Echoing imagery. Noticing performance through spiritual significance.
Wooing the wow in the ordinary.
Making extraordinary dreams come true.
Living in amazement but often in the basement.
Ascending the descent into freedom from self-hatred.
Eyebrowsing rather than brow beating.
I hear the roar of the twenties. The engines are starting. The teens are parting. The flame burned the old frame.
Bring in the new. The new catalogue of creativity.
Not idly stting by, but waiting to be revealed
as high-flooten and well-heeled.
Watch out drama junkies! Drama mama is energized.
No longer pragmatized. No longer flower child
but bloomin freaking girl gone wild!
I wrote this for my daughter Sarah on her 20th birthday in 2005. Reading her blog http://sarahhartsu.blogspot.com/ today and seeing her fresh burst of creativity brought this to mind.