Too Loud To Listen

Belgien - not tuscanyKnowitalls live in every corner of the land

With words they punch and kick at you the sand

They think they understand your mother home

That is when you realize your all alone

What can I do but listen to more

Though my fist may want to settle the score

Shut up why don’t you with all your pride

You’re blind being led by a blind guide

It is love for why I was sent

You may find the Holy of Holies inside the tent

But your darkness keeps you lost

You don’t believe the man who paid the cost

So just wander about your way

“Follow Me” are the words He would say

But how can you hear when you are deaf

Carry on lost, without Him nothings left

Photo Credit

Life Problems

To all my pretend fans, my computer crashed last week and I haven’t been able to write lately.  My wife and I are moving across the pond in a couple of weeks so posts will be sporadic.  Hope to see you soon.

He Has Risen!

Passion of the Christ

They brought the spices prepared for that day

But to their suprise they found the stone rolled away!

Inspired by Luke 24:1-7

I Might Be Dead

I'll Be Snoring

It is now time to go to bed
Awake much longer I might be dead
It is near four in the morning
Soon I’ll be snoring
Bugging my wife once the pillow hits my head.

Roller Coaster Poetry

ImmergrünI’m kinda digging this poetry thing.  I like the creation process of it.  It can be difficult (maybe when I get better it will be much more difficult) but seeing my thoughts end up on the screen is great.  After I complete a poem I have a sense of accomplishment.

Then about an hour later I feel a little down.  It’s kind of like a mini roller coaster.  It’s no big deal really but I wonder if I will be able to write again.  Will I have new thoughts that form a poem?

A day or so later I do.

Do you go through similar feelings?  Do you get a little drained from writing a poem or do you always have tons of ideas pouring out of your mind?

Showcase: Photographer Publik Oberberg

The following photos are taken by one of my favorite photographers who goes by the name of Publik Oberberg.  I hope you enjoy his photos also.  Below the photos is a link that leads to his flickr page with 100’s of his beautiful captures.

nach Hause - walking backHeimweg im Nebel - back homeWald oder Kathedrale - forest or cathedralLofotenmorgens im Nebel - a foggy morningSchweiz 2006 - blue morning in Switzerland

See all Publik Oberberg Photos

Little Boy Who Is Loved

This is written for a little boy my wife and I watch.  His parents didn’t understand his disorder and left him alone to die.  He is now safe and in a good home.

Little Boy Who Is Loved

Steel bars separated you from the world.
They had no idea the blessing you are.

Sustenance tossed next to your feet,
But nothing that would help you grow.

Highs and lows, head in the clouds,
Their dirty habits left you alone.

The house condemned and your soft sobs,
The curse had ended because you are loved.

Now there is laughter, sounds of hope.
Smiles abound from little boy who is loved.