Welcome to the most recently updated incarnation of Oil and Flame. My poetry output has been on the wane of late, but hopefully you will find a gem or two here that will make you feel something real, and that will touch your heart of hearts.... "Way down, in my heart of hearts. Way down in my soul of souls.Way down, I know that I am a fortunate man, to have known Divine love... Mark Heard Proverbs 20:27 Improper often thoughts run wild and flame out of control rampant like terror on a grand scale willful sinful dismissing all memory of law or love or light Realization thru time we drift uncaring unknowing til halted by the terror and certainty of age Bored cold numb tick tock tedium awash in the thick dirge of slow monotony and pained by the slurry gelled passage of time All Things New spring again and blooming green lilacs, lilies, tulips. leaves sprout and mask the dead wood like when the fresh airs of forgiveness blow thru these dank, stale caverns of the heart like sackcloth and ashes replaced by royal robes Disobedience mystified at what lies can be believed by one who knows the truth stupified by the rebellion that exists within a servant who wants to obey terrified at the wage that must be paid Waiting For Mom to Die been waiting for mom to die lately for a couple of years or more it seems like she thinks she's Jerry Garcia but the dead aren't grateful and Timothy Leary's ashes are now as hard to find as any living example of his ideology. speed kills you know? and barflys aren't airborne they're grounded. and I'm just waiting for her to die you know? 49 years is nothing but hard time can weather and break even the hardest stone and dull the brightest diamond into jade... 32 years ago ended the wanting the willing drive-bys were unheard of then till a 16 year old groom got brains on her cradling hands... and his last words were unintelligable and she really died there too. it hurts and maybe I'm really waiting for her to live... cause she's killing me too. Josh and Brianna (My Children) Beautiful eyes ears nose strong young bones and hair so soft and sweet I could stare at them forever as they sleep and I with parents pride overwhelm at what is given me... to nurture keep and care a gift too great for words to bear and this hearts feeling this joy serene is what life was meant to be Drought sitting staring thinking cloudy in a glazed over morning malaise cool for a change yet August drought holds firm and the earth is cracking,spreading,gaping gasping for a merciful heavenly saturation creation groans like a sad heart scarlet dry weary from each successive vanishing mirage of cloud and shade and drink So Many Times The Fool So many times the fool so many times apologies are warranted and given and paper promises cement themselves like glue in the shamed dark caverns of my brain only to end up dusted over dry and flaky yellow and peeling like old newspaper wet and dried on a windy highway.... first peels a corner then another then curled like a scroll they blow like lonely tumbleweeds to whatever vortex inhales all our broken promises and offenses toward God and man... Contrition my heart aches groans inwardly aloud like the deep minor chords of a weeping cello... over nothing or some deeply buried something so obscure and denied as to kick in fetal displeasure at my poisoning passions and bitter deceits Carnal weighted to earth it seems forever my leaden ankles ever drawing my eyes to ground no astral thoughts no atmosphere no flight.... Idolatry it's all a drug this hype this hero-worship this culture of tease... we tie off like junkies with our remote controls we cook up and inject new distractions... ride the celluloid mainline sit staring numb entranced by some surrealist commercial jingle that we'll remember long after we've forgotten the name of God... rolling lotteries for golden calves and plunge a knife through Issacs' heart.... heard no angels voice restraining. only noise....... For Interesting Christian Poetry Go To The Link Below...   |