A Song for the Doubter

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You got people telling you

You don’t know what your doing

You got people telling you

You got no place pursuing

                                                  But they don’t know

              But they don’t know

Just cause something’s never been done

Don’t mean it can’t be done

Illogical (E-Lodge-Ick-Uhl)

Is

Phenomenal (Fee-Nom-N-Uhl)

When the

Impossible (Imp-Pah-Sip-Uhl)

Becomes

Probable (Prah-Bib-Uhl)

Then real (Re-Uhl), then real (Re-Uhl)

You got people telling you

There’s no point in dreaming

You got people telling you

There’s no reason for believing

You got people telling you

There’s no chance at succeeding

     But they don’t know

              But they don’t know

Just cause something’s never been done

Don’t mean it can’t be done

Illogical (E-Lodge-Ick-All)

Is

Phenomenal (Fee-Nom-N-All)

When the

Impossible (Imp-Pah-Sip-Uhl)

Becomes

Probable (Prah-Bib-Uhl)

Then real (Re-Uhl), then real (Re-Uhl)

Always going to be people saying

There’ll always be someone talking

But they’re isn’t ever going to be

Someone like you/Someone like me (Repeat while fading out)

Sense of Home

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You broke through

The walls I’ve built,

Smashed them down,

With fists laced in guilt, allowing

Only silhouettes their rightful place in line

You pushed me away to far withdrawn

After hearing you sing your lonely song

Yet I’d be tethered back to you

But only after you heard me aligning

With some other’s sad refrain

shower in, upon me now

shower down, drench me here

with your light, wash away

my every sense of fear

You took my tears,

You took them all, vialed

Each and capped their lids,

Forever keeping me near,

holding my desires ever closer still

You closed these eyes,

White circles dyed brown,

You closed these lids,

Lest I should frown, seeing

Clearly, all the world’s disturbances

shower in, upon me now

shower down, drench me here

with your light ,wash away

my every sense of fear

But never would you show your face

Always coddling behind those swathing silks,

And never would you speak your name

Only ever speaking through the eyes alone

In which, I’ve finally found a place my own

Therein finding what’s been missing,

That elusive feeling when one wanders stray

That craving urge, the daydreams that steal away

Never fully realized, never truly honed

Until one returns, forever,

to that loving sense of home.

Shared with the great poets over at D'Verse.  OLN is in full effect, stop on by for the best poetry on the internet.  While you're there, share a poem of your own.  We'd all love to read it.  

Heaven's in my Heart (A Devotional)

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A wavering peak of substance

A meriting chasm of hollow will

confronts the siren’s secret trance

that sends the sailor out, upon rocks that kill

Heavens in my heart

and I feel unworthy….yet smile, that you still care

A smothering entanglement

A shackling undulation

enshrouds the every sense

whispering virtuous elations

Heaven’s in my heart

and I feel unworthy…yet smile, that you believe In me

One day, one day you will come

across the sky it is said

you’ll come down, and crush the serpent’s head

and light will shine, shine down from your kingdom

Heavens in my heart

and I feel unworthy….yet smile, that you still care

All will feel, as it never has—we are blessed, we are blessed

each day a lifetime in love’s sweet caress, sweet caress

and then, one will know

the beauty in salvation, to bask forever long in its glow

Heaven’s in my heart

and I feel unworthy…yet smile, that you believe In me

Heavens in my heart

and I feel unworthy….yet smile, that you still care

Heaven’s in my heart

and I feel unworthy…yet smile, that you believe In me

Pine Box

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Sleeping in a pine box

thinking about the other day

sleeping in a pine box

dreaming that this time

it’ll all turn out some other way

It’s sad how fast we deteriorate

breaking free, rotting unto the lost domains

unprepared for what will be claimed

we grow resigned in the mannerisms of loneliness and loss

where stagnating shards fragment and shape our future plots

Sleeping in a pine box

thinking about the others

sleeping in a pine box

all the father’s, daughters, sons and mothers

It’s amazing how things often come down

to the number of correct decisions we make,

the one’s we never would have made

if not for one mistake, often an accidental turn

we, at the time, deemed to be entirely incorrect

And we never would have had the opportunities

to live and to love, to bleed and to sweat

all those intangible emotions that

would not be available now, or

would not be available in the innumerable futures yet to come

But the erroneous turn we did commit

and the flaw will forever be remembered

when necessary, for sensorial exhumation

Sleeping in a pine box

thinking about the other day

sleeping in a pine box

eyes closed yet open, wide as they’ve ever stayed

And in these containers

we hold our cherished mistakes

as one would keepsake any artifact

that holds close the unmeasured meanings

ever available for conjuring crucial memories lost but never forgotten…in a pine box