Category Archives: errors

Daily Target Practive

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I believe in a love greater than myself.
One that passes all understanding.
It cuts deep and reveals truth.
It shines a light upon my successes and failures.

A Spirit comes to defend my mind.
A hope that has decided to love me despite my doubts.
It moves through my body and soul.
And guides my words when I am in need.

Anxiety is a way of life.
One that has gripped me for years.
But one that I can overcome,
By the love that gives me peace when my head is fighting.

A glance to the left as I hear a bang.
Target practice on my heart takes place daily.
Love protects it, even when it hurts.
Love is there even when nothing seems to be going right.

So what do we do when the tides are coming to overtake?
When the water floods our supports?
We take heart and rely on Love.
We rely on the truth the Spirit has brought upon our lives.

For peace can come even in the storm.
It brings joy when no joy should be found.
Our supports get rebuilt, and then the sun comes back.
And we pray and thank God for another day.

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Turbulence and Plane Rides

Hello. How are you?
I am wondering if it is okay to enter into this interaction?
To be honest and blunt.
To bring out a little bit of the bitter instead of covering it up with the nice?

You walk into a room and glance my way.
Never smiling always in disarray.
No, matter my words only half listening to what I have to say.
I thought we could be over this petty little game?

Snapping words when simple questions are asked.
Glares that come whenever I seem to laugh.
I am not sure you want to play this game,
But here you are deciding to do so for both of us.

Turbulence and plane rides.
Train tracks sputtering along.
Tight turns at high speeds.
Breakneck acceleration on country roads.

Slowing down to scowl.
Merging when to many cars are coming.
Try to be happy even if it isn’t your day.
Jut drive and do your best to stay in a place to pray.

Of course I am not perfect.
I let it get under my skin more than I should.
A bit passive aggressive to a fault.
But don’t worry…I’m working on it.

Hello. How are you?
Is it too much to ask that you understand some facial self control.
Reading you like a book.
But you know…I could be wrong.

Morning Sickness

“Every lament is a love song.” ~Switchfoot

He stands on the edge of his mind and his heart.
Largely distracted by what is going on around him, and what is going on inside. 
Which one will win?
He knows, but he doesn't feel like telling and one. 

A morning sickness that has nothing to do with pregnancy.
A sickness developed from opening his eyes and realizing he is alive.
Stricken to his sheets, the ones that feel like home.
For the floor is lava and o scary to venture into alone.

Ducking and diving in and out.
Avoiding the fire that's coming from all around him.
The gun sight is set to his heart and others to his head.
One good shot and everything goes away, from them or even from the one he is carrying.

But the truth is he doesn't want this to be the case.
I don't think any of us really do.
But sometimes this world seems to be too much, and all he wants is to be somewhere else.
With someone who will never forsake him.

He sits alone on the porch that looks out into the yard.
A storm is brewing and the lightening is coming at regular intervals.
The wind picks up and the trees start to sway to the beat.
Clap clap, bang bang, flash flash...boom. 

His funeral is tomorrow and not an eye is dry.
Closed casket in the morning and sandwiches with aunts in the afternoon.
"We should get together more often." They will say.
"What an awful way to get the family together."

Leaving behind the mother and the father.
A part of the world ripped away by one single act.
Friends that loved  him, now on the floor wondering what they could have done better.
Wondering what they could have done to help him fly...

She’s in Love with Chaos

“She was a wreck. but he loved her. She was a wreck, but so was he.” ~Copeland

 

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It looks like a heartache waiting to happen.
When the phone hits the floor and she is left alone.
The other line dead and the voice has stopped.
And the drumming from her head is working harder than her heart.

She’s in love with chaos.
The ups and the downs.
The lefts that are actually rights, her mind begging to be found.
She’s in love with chaos.
The unknown, is the start of her disorganization alone.

Picking up the pieces and moving one.
Going from one phone to another waiting to belong.
Not trying to hard to sing a better song.
All she does is wait for heartache, to become her white and black swan.

She’s in love with chaos.
The deaf tones of awkward lies.
The messed up deliveries of sought after lines.
She’s in love with chaos.
With her mind, taking deep breaths and taking names that she must find.

Sectioned off and in the crowd.
Determined for more than a sour sound.
But not giving it enough effort or follow through.
The choice is hers, even though she’ll never limit herself to a few.

She’s in love with chaos.
The ups and the downs.
The lefts that are actually rights, marked with hearts waiting to be found.
She’s in love with chaos.
Heartbreak brought on, by late night phone calls and luck based falls.

She’s in love with chaos.
And the Lord knows…
That one day maybe her eyes will see the light being shown.
She’s in love with chaos and the rest.
For one moment she breaks and finally passes a test.

My Personal Perception Personified By Convictions

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“I was a pharisee. I never saw the need for grace. Then your love came to me, stood next to mine and I saw that I was poor. Show me I was poor, show us we are…glorious. We are glorious not from what good we have done, but from being the least.”  ~As Cities Burn

 

Sunlight hits your cheek, and the glimmer awakens something deep inside of me.
A longing that I never knew existed before.
Well, that is not entirely true.
I have known, and I have seen but I have never believed.

Sunlight graces the edge of a cliff.
The shadow it creates is more beautiful than the light…to me.
It is signifies the stretch of time between then and now.
Before your glimmer equaled more than an anxious feeling.

Take a chance on me and one day God I will fully be more.
Take a chance on me Lord and I will fail you.
Take a chance on me King and I will disappoint.
But if you take a chance on me, I swear I will believe.

Sunlight hits another.
That ends before it even began.
Not a chance to truly develop because I effed that up.
I let the pain of the past come in and take what may.

Sunlight decides to shine on me, and I hate the way it looks me in the eye.
I prefer to be held in a lie.
To take it and nurture it so I can hide from the truth.
The truth that I am worth it, that grace has set me free.

Take a chance on me friend and I will fail you.
Take a chance on me girl and maybe we can help one another.
Take a chance on me good sir and our friendship might blossom into perfect chaos.
But if you take a chance on me know I am all in, and every chance I get I wish to do something for you…not for me.

I sing for my sins.
I sing for my false religion.
I tantalize my being with a song that is not from the One who gave it all.
I am an idolater when I need a bit of a pick me up.

But Jesus I beg of thee…take a chance on me.
Let me be an offering when I run away.
Let my knees buckle when the sunlight reveals the flaws.
Have me weep in an apartment on a Sunday afternoon when it is just you and me.

Sunlight is my enemy, it is my best friend, it is my lover, and my guide.
I run from the sunlight just as much as I run to it.
Comfort from my own understanding, depression caused from my way of thinking.
Sinning and believing, doubting and worshiping.

Baptizing the inter sanctum of my mind’s eye.
A world view taking root before the very nature of life even starts.
I take the wine and the bread to partake in my belief.
And then I look to the ground and try to do it my own way.

Will I ever get a chance to pick a side.
Will the struggle be made plain, so I can actually reach up to Heaven and be wiped clean?
This world is a mine filled travesty, made into a sin woven tapestry.
I do not belong in this place and my body fights that fact every day.

Do you know who I am?!
Do you think I am this mess of a man?
Do you think I have zero intelligence on the subject of my Savior?
Do you know who I am?!

Do I know who I am?!
Do I think I am worth the very air I breathe?
Do I think that there is something better after death?
Do I know who I am?!

I am a man…and this is my personal perception personified by my convictions.
A sin filled life from the start, and a longing to keep on doing it.
When I know that my vices will never let me win.
Yet, I struggle and I call out day after day.
For I am a man, that does not like to go outside when the sun is shining and hoping to play.

I am a man… broken, bitter, loved, saved.
I am just a man…one that has no control, ever since I went down on my knees.
I am not a savior…but I do look to one.
I am a man…flawed, hurt, depressed, anxious.
Yet hope is still there…

The sunlight hits a cheek far away from where I am today.
One day I think I will see.
If I want to be a better me…
I need to answer prayer with prayer and know there is hope that never goes away.

“Burning out my sins until there’s nothing but dust. Holding me with care into your cigarette. Cause the God I believe in never worked on a campaign trail.”    ~Brand New519048855_1280x720

Take These Errors

“Drowning Just As Fast As I Can, But Do Not Throw Me A Line Do Not Reach Out Your Hand Because I Am On The Brink Of Something Beautiful And I Want To Sing About. But I Do Not Know Where To Begin.”
~ MAE

~ Take These Errors ~



I do not think these errors will devour what it means to be alive.
It seems that it will only fuel my desire to be more than a fool.
Making these choices even if it is not the popular opinion.
Like when so called friends tell me I am not what they want me to be.

But let me entertain this for a few more moments.
The thought that if I went along with the crowd I would be happier?
Or do I stick to my guns and not conform to the drivers driving on the wrong side of the road?
Choices that define the outcome of any given situation.

They may arrive before me, but I was not heading there anyway.
My end goal is one of clarity.
My end goal takes the errors away.
A place where I can sing and everyone knows the song.

Is it okay to make assumptions about yourself?
Is it okay to ask questions when searching for an answer?
Is doubt allowed to entertain my brain?
Or is it frowned upon by those that claim they have it all figured out? 

Do I really know myself,
When I error in the way of self indulgent drivel?
Pushing and shoving through the crowds who do not care if I live or die.
To feel alive at an intersection with no lull in the traffic. 

Invisible buttons fill my soul. 
This haptic feedback is not a real.
Just like Jon Foreman sings, “A warm body does not mean I’m alive.” 
I strive to be more than my errors inside.

These false illusions of joy and happiness, mean nothing with the coming tide.
Trusting in Love more than trusting in doubt, will store true treasure.
Looking past the ways of those who sit by and do nothing while at your side.
I drive to drive, and someday I will arrive. 
And on that day it will be because of Love and not what I happened to contrive.