Embarking now to solitude,
I’m left with one intent,
To establish lasting fortitude,
And seek to implement,
A demeanor of grace and kindness,
Devoid of expectation,
In their faults submit to blindness,
Without any hesitation.
Yet while lovely this may seem,
It does incur a loss,
For I do abandon a dream,
Unfulfilled and left to dross.
I’d hoped for association,
And a journey to the end,
With companions of inspiration,
Rightly vulnerable and genuine,
But alas it is not to be,
I am to venture forth alone,
Passionately free,
While marching towards my home.
I am hopeful for tomorrow,
In the light of Heaven’s promise,
There will surely be no sorrow,
Despair or loneliness.
Category: Poetry
The Repentant Narcissist
Quite mistaken and living a lie,
A heart-wrenching truth I cannot deny.
I have lived these years upon a path,
Certain of vision, certain to last.
But such confidence not properly ground,
Caused me to fly and live in the clouds.
And this narcissism infecting the mass,
Is the thorn in my side, my burden, alas.
Like fuel to the fire of my sin within,
Self-interest permeates and I give in.
I was living with lenses warped and skewed,
Where I was the lead, while others construed,
As mere characters of foes and friends,
Objects of plot and means to an end.
Yet don’t get me wrong, though villain I am,
Not all of my efforts were so vilely planned.
The pain that is deepest and now in plain view,
Is the miserable fact that I never knew.
T’was my running thought and subtle intent,
To rise as a victor with benevolence.
But there lies the tell of my sinful disease,
Grace not mine to bestow, hearts not mine to ease.
And so I lay down my plight at the feet of the cross,
Self-interest condemned and my success a loss,
Knowing now full-well the best course for me:
Surrender my dreams and let You intercede,
Deciding the course, sustaining Your glory,
And me a mere character in Your magnificent story.
Broken Jack
Broken Jack, an unknown man,
Sits at the tavern table.
A weathered sage of former tale,
With memory unstable.
The revelers who drink and play,
About the tavern’s locus,
Know not our seasoned broken Jack,
Quite undeterred in focus.
Broken Jack has no intention,
To make a friend or foe.
His mind is caught in recollection,
Of an unforgivable woe.
He cannot recall his father’s name,
Nor the dwelling of his youth.
He remembers not the catechisms,
Or how many he once knew.
And yet one thing permeates,
And recycles o’er again.
‘Tis a choice he made with Clara Belle,
His love, his life, his friend.
It occurred too many years before,
No way to be exact,
Moot details by comparison,
With how he chose to act.
It came down to him or her,
Built on bricks of good intent.
His ambition, her attention,
Two forces incongruent.
He lost her to malady,
Faint heart succumbed to fever.
Yet in his heart he knew it.
T’was a broken spirit that killed her.
In her last breath it was later told him,
She spoke his name intently.
Upon report he buckled and fell,
Ne’er to recover sanity.
Thus now he stammers from place to place,
Heart toiling in bitter strife,
Recalling the fateful precipice,
Of choice that took her life.
Christ in Christmas (Poem)
Christmas makes us feel emotional,
It may inspire thoughts devotional,
But only if it’s viewed with love.
It’s not just for Santa, presents, brothers,
Eggnog, dads, or even mothers,
The focus needs to be above.
Ho Ho Ho, how I love the snow!
But the joy it brings,
Comes from the King of Kings.
We’ve gotta look past,
Those earthly things.
It’s time for all of us,
To put Christ back in Christmas
You know Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen.
Who’s that One that I’ve been missing?
I guarantee He’s not a reindeer.
I’ve looked to Bing and Danny Kaye,
To brighten up my holiday,
But White Christmases don’t bring the most cheer.
Ho Ho Ho, how I love the snow!
But the joy it brings,
Comes from the King of Kings.
We’ve gotta look past,
Those earthly things.
It’s time for all of us,
To put Christ back in Christmas.
Pursuing Wisdom (Poem)
It is clear to me upon my thought,
An element which I have sought,
I can only relate it with poetry,
The language of dreamers, eloquently.
For those of you who, as I, have sought,
The peace of mind with purpose-filled thought,
And for those of you who have been entangled,
In contradiction with action/emotion strangled,
With determination set to accomplish,
But action fruitless and hope undistinguished,
I ask: Do you run the race just as I,
With a wish and a mission reaching up to the sky?
Do you sense your potential could power the earth,
But the fruit of your efforts diminish your worth?
Then let me relate this lesson to you,
So we both may be strengthened with purpose renewed.
In pursuit of wisdom you must, with constants, stay strong
And seek out igniters that will help you belong,
To the fellowship of dreamers, the council of discovery.
And your Lord, your love, your life will be,
That which you hope for, that which you pursue.
Let all others, unhealthy, with conviction be through.
Do you see it is simple? Ignite perspective.
With principles in place you’ll become reflective,
On direction, guidance, peace, and purpose,
Because a life without these is utterly worthless.
Lighthouse of my Heart
My Father from above,
Right now I call on You,
To share Your endless love,
So I may be renewed.
Lord, You’ve taught me the love,
Through fellowship, the Word, and prayer.
When I took You into my heart,
I found that love everywhere.
You are a lighthouse in my heart,
To guide the way,
And You always do Your part,
To bless my day.
Praise God! Now I can see,
That Your love resides in me.
I will keep the faith,
And You will keep on shining.
An Object of Virtue
Around my neck,
And close to my heart,
Is an object of virtue,
The tangible part.
For this cross is a token,
A symbol of faith,
A reminder for comfort,
While running this race.
When burdens come to rest,
On my shoulders heavily,
I feel upon me the cross,
It’s then that I’m free.
With my object of virtue,
All is made clear.
Christ takes up my troubles,
And I abandon my fears.
Ship on the Sea
A wandering vessel,
Made artistically,
Set off on a voyage,
A ship on the sea.
Set adrift by currents,
Crashing waves all in view,
Such pressing disaster,
For humanity’s crew.
But deep in the heart,
Of these people in need,
Is a Captain who conquers,
Even calms the sea.
For though waves of burden,
Look never to cease,
With Christ as the Captain,
There’s a voyage of peace.
Hands of Providence
I clasp them together,
And hold them real tight,
These hands of providence,
These tools of my might.
For all my accomplishments,
That any can see,
Were formed by these hands,
That I hold up to Thee.
For nothing I’ve made,
Or venture to do,
Could ever compare,
To what You make anew.
So I offer them up,
To use as You please,
These tools that You’ve given,
To bring this world ease.
My Focus
My focus…. my focus is abstract.
I am like a bird underwater.
I flap my wings, trying for heaven,
Yet I am restricted.
The only reason I am in this sea,
Of sin and society,
Is because I flew down into it.
This water is cold.
I have been down here so long….,
I almost forgot,
What the freedom of air felt like.
Now that I remember,
I cannot flap hard enough,
To get back up.
This cold water stings,
More when I remember,
The warm air I once flew through.
I am not drowning.
The air that once filled my lungs,
Has not and will not be exhaled,
Until I can once agian,
Breath in its pureness.
How can I reach the surface?
I feel suspened,
By my flaps in this deep void!
Must I stop flapping to float up?
But this temperature,
And this darkness,
Almost attacks my wings,
Into violent submission.
Only the Sun gives me hope.
I can barely see Him in this darkness.
Only the Sun can make me float up.
I must keep my eyes,
On this faint glimmer above me.
I must trust that I will rise.
Even now I can feel my ascent.
My focus…. my focus is clear.
Landon Metts – Writer, Reader, Enthusiast 