Surviving on Hope



Surrounded by stone cold hearts

and thorns spreading like lies,

Hanging in there when all else fails

the tenacity of a Rose to rise,

Folding with Grace, curling in warmth

watching as the last bud dies,

The fragile Rose surviving on Hope

reveals The Father’s design is likewise.


Snagged by Thorns



like a voodoo doll, poking and stabbing

your friend one moment

your frenemy the next

the gossip shared behind another’s back

crushing, slicing through

with endless unknown effects


the Holiest mountain stands just out of reach

while you’re stuck below

snagged by thorns piercing everywhere

your mouth firmly rooted in jealousy

held in place by envious boulders

you never once noticed were there


beguiled into thinking you can climb

past the cruelty

past the unsympathetic crime

a devil of a feat to overcome

this shutting off of evil words

slaying your heart and soul for all time


where blackness is the least of magic

driving up from deep below

your mouth moving in a downward spell

the trick behind gossiping

is you thinking it’s harmless

raising the mountain above your own hell


Psalm 15 A Psalm of David.

LORD, who shall sojourn in Thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell upon Thy holy mountain?

He that hath no slander upon his tongue.


Technically, it’s the commandment stating, “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.” but it seems to get less attention than, thou shalt not murder or thou shalt not lie. But Yeshuah said, all sins are equal.  Like I always say, joking, when someone lies straight to my face and I know it… “You know, you go to hell for lying, same as you do for stealing and murder.”  Just my little way of reminding people… all the commandments are equal!

All demanded by GOD!

Not just one or two….

The Darkness You Anoint

cacti with eyes 2

Lost in a dry desolate life

void of the gentle touch of kindness

tortured by thorns turned inward,

those you may see or not.

Tossed aside for its deeds

and ignorant actions

when you could teach love

instead of disdain

and shame and pain.

For it is you who cast them

into dust and hopelessness

suffering hate, failure and loss

greater than a broken heart

greater than a wounded soul

as they are forgotten and rejected

by all who pass by.

Stepping aside quickly

to avoid apathy and guilt

until these thorns you see pointing

a straight path to love

have grown weary and fall

into the darkness you anoint…

For each soul etched with rain

forms more thorns strengthened

with each drop of pain.

Through the Thorns

rocks crushing tenderness

rods and vines ripping reason

a searching look for peace

a mirror of disbelief

looking through the thorns

at the jealousy and spite

spewing from their eyes

a volcanic flow of baseness

their mouths breeding cruelty

arms flailing at inner loathing

rising misery erupting the horde

outwardly killing to the core

knowingly they slaughter

their souls




Thorns tear at my heart, scratching and ripping

as he walks down that lonely road

pulling the threads farther apart

he needs a knot to hang on to

just a snag in that wore out groove.

Scratching at the welt left behind

swollen and angry stupor

filling every shiver with ache

tangling across the silent trail

tripping him up, holding him down,

torn away too soon,

confused by the rambling brambles.

Too old to ask for help,

too young to admit defeat

spurred on by a point

a burr sticking to the wrong side

the way not a fork or turn.

Briars slashing his dreams,

cutting down his will to tread

drained by bloody barbs,

thistles or roses,

their scent wafts through the closed doors.