broken record.

repetition of my sin--
--grows old
this broken record
repeats itself--
daily.
as the record spins
i grow numb.
numb to this song.
numb.
grace trickles down--
still
--this record spins
round and round.


broken.

piece of pearl

oh this white nothing
nothing!
i have come to understand
why i am here
not for myself
not for her
not for him
not for you
for something far greater
--than flesh
piece by piece
i meet grace
with depth and awe
a pureness overwhelms me--
pureness like a pearl
--and piece by piece
i.
am.
broken.
for His glory.


praise.

Heavy Heart

 I wrote this from the perspective of a 4^th grade inner city student.

 Heavy Heart

What my teacher don’t know bout me:

I hate going to school. 

When I get home from school everyday I take care 

of my two baby sisters while mom works at two different jobs. 

She gets home real late every night. 

I cook, clean, try and get the lil ones to bed, then try and do my homework. 

I usually don’t though. I am too tired. 

My dad left me when I was two. 

Never seen him again. 

I miss him. 

My moms new boyfriend comes 

over sometimes and spends the night. 

he always drinkin though and it makes him real mad. 

Usually at mom, sometimes at me. 

I am hungry. 

Mom cant afford that much food. 

I don’t ask her for lunch money--

I know she don’t got none. 

Maybe that is why I am always tired--

because I am always hungry.

I am stupid. 

The teachers at school know I cant read right. 

They make me feel--

like I cant do nothin right. 

I feel stupid so I stop trying. 

I give up on school. 

I want to learn though. 

I do. 

School just is boring. 

I don’t got time to do homework at home. 

So I always miss recess--

because I have to do it. 

That makes me look stupid to other kids. 

They make fun of me. 

I am tired. 

I am hungry. 

I miss my dad. 

I hate school. 

I am stupid.

-I want to teach the kids with hearts that are so willing to learn but too heavy to show it. Deep down there is a yearning to learn in all children. As teachers we just have to dig deep and find it. Look past their schoolwork, what is going on at home? Be understanding. Love them. Be positive. Make lessons fun, not boring. Show them how smart they really are. Help them to believe that daily. I want to show these kids that my classroom can be a place for them to get away and learn new things. A place where they feel welcomed, loved, safe, and smart. I pray for the students with heavy hearts, who are going through things I myself cannot imagine. I pray that do not feel trapped and inclined to this life. I pray that they walk through my classroom door one day, and walk out free.

soul scripts

these words--
painted on her heart
these letters arise--
from the tips of her fingers
--as she lets go of this existence
leaving behind a sweet, sweet mystery
astounding is your zeal--
your angelic adoration
--writes scripts on her soul--
creating liberation
leaving behind a sweet, sweet mystery

numb

numb
numb is me
numb to you
pain-i feel you no
love-i feel you no
numb is me
numb to you
numb

lost

what is lost shall be found
i am walking in circles
round and round-

this road is new
what once was lost::

was never really lost at all.

Hidden

Vulnerability has captured me-

I have danced in these shoes before

expressing what it is hidden

I must dance around this room

revealing secrets in every corner

reveling in this sweet mystery of depth