Harlequin (Bondage)

Smiling is easy

Smiling takes very few muscles

So smile for them all

with every muscle in your face

Smile so they won't think to look

for the scars on your wrists and legs,

the razor in your purse

Smile so the won't bother to ask

when was the last time you ate

the last time you threw up

Smile so they won't know how much you hate the mirror

and the girl it holds

Dancing is simple, too

Right foot, left hand

One-step, two-step

Move the arms, move the legs

in rythm with the gossamer chains

Dance around the subject

Dance around the problem

Motion is all they're looking for

Dance for them to see

I will show you how.

Smile and dance

my little harlequin

Let me help you play the game

I can tug the strings and i can pull the lines

Force the smile, work the rythm

you know you should

it's what they're expecting of you

Happiness, Contentment

Perfection

You know you can't live up to that

my little pet

so let me help you fool them all

Smile so they won't suspect

Dance so they won't look

even if that's what you really want

Wear your porcelain grin

and dance your lonely waltz, my poppet

I will be here, whispering

always

CONTINUE? BOOYA!! YES!!!

The potery continues!!!!! Yaaaayyy for God's gift of the written and spoken words!!! and the written and spoken Word too. in fact that one is better, but i still like the gift He gives me in poetry. I also love how He's given me a class (creative writing II) that gives me a grade for writing poetry for Him. I know its been a while since i posted poetry, but ive been writing all the same. and im on route now to publishing my poetry alongside short, memoirish excerpts of my testimony (if i can ever get that one finished). There are some poems coming about pain, some about bondage, and a whole lot about Jesus and His amaizing merciful powerful wonderful just beautiful awesomeness!!!! PRAISE JESUS FOR HE ALONE IS GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To anyone who might actually be a fan of my poetry

it's editing time! im not sure if any of you know this, but the poems you see posted here are pure poetic vomit, with a few exceptions. there was little editing involved, just pure zach spilling onto a page. Now some things are going to change, some majorly, some minorly. and yes, i know that majorly and minorly are probably not words, but i dont care. im a poet and this is my blog, so im allowed to make up words! Although strangely enough, the ones im changing the most havent made it here, yet, so i guess im just writing this for the sake of writing something cause i do so enjoy writing. None of them will be re-posted, unless someone wants me to, to compare and contrast. i was simply planning on changing them, using this as the only warning any of you will ever get, but oh well, im babbling now. anyway, hello poetry! here comes the editing scalpel!

Demoniac (revised)

They speak with razors,
aiming to flense,
hungrily seeking fresh meat.
Their words fly into the evening,
flying yet bound
to that wooden porch
of the Kansas camp,
barred from escaping
into the woods.

They twist her voice,
already brackish from
the nicotine of decades,
into a feral growl.
A violent animal
in a corner;
an animal
in a cage of Blood.

The Calvary advances,
warriors armed to the teeth,
shields burning golden in the perverse darkness,
rendering the creatures' blades useless;
their breastplates shining as the dawn,
breaking through the despairing cold;
wielding swords to demolish fortresses.
The army moves to war.

The watchmen utter;

the darkness convulses in the night.
The warriors advance,
the horn is sounded,
and the battle begins,
for the Bride has gone to war.

Logos(revised)

object:book

cover:hardback

page count: 2248 with appendices

page 3: Voice shatters silence,

the formless congeals,

hardens, transforms.

light and dark

are oil and water in the sky,

each to its place.

The seas pulls away from land

as sheets pull from the bed.

Life begins with a simple Word,

and it is good.

page 432: His enemies are trampled

underfoot.

the belly of the earth is ripped asunder;

He rends the fortresses

as tissue paper.

the blood of thousands

waters the earth;

poured out by a donkey's jawbone.

page 1713: the Word was with Him before,

the Word was with Him

and the Word became flesh.

He mended the bleeding,

opened up sight to those without,

restored the withered limbs,

was destroyed by man,

so the Word could

destroy the grave,

rebuild the Temple,

undo His enemy.

page 2059: the Word returns in power;

the Sword of His Tongue

flensing and tearing

the dragon to nothingness.

His robes made scarlet

by its blood

and all proclaim

"Worthy is the Lamb who was slain!"

object: Savior

name:Logos, the Word made flesh.

Random Muse #2

Waiting is not my favorite thing to do. most people who know me know this. But lately im finding that waiting is all that i can do. I mean, I know that i cannot function without the Spirit, and i try not to walk outside of His promptings, but He likes giving me things that i can't do ANYTHING with on my own. It's like, "Here zach, feel this. I'm not going to tell you why right now, but there is a reason." and i'm like "uh...okay" its not like i can truly say no. But what to do when you're discerning things for the first time; what to do when you're feeling something with almost complete understanding of everything about it ASIDE from what to do with it? The only thing left to do is wait, and ask God what He's doing. I don't know why found it surprising that the main reason i had no idea what was going on was because i never asked Him. I feel like i relearn old lessons again, cause something small just slips out in the midst of the chaos and the Lord wants to remind me. Sometimes it feels like the only way i'll get to understand these things is if i run and jump out there and make mistakes, which i would rather not have to make (once again, those of you who know me know this). but there's also a strange peace that comes with waiting on Him. a peace that's like "I know what You've shown me, and went where You sent me, and did what You told me to do. I got nothing else." It's liberating when the standard is lowered from being superman to being someone who simply does what is commanded of him. am i making sense here? i know I'm kinda rambling, but this is a blog, so deal with it.

Words from a Heart on the Battlefield

voices in the dark,

calling, crying,

condemning.

"Why do you even try?"

"You know you don't really want this."

"If you did, things would be different."

"You'd be doing something"

"Wouldn't you?"

The enemy's barrage of barbed arrows

piercing, rending,

aimed at the sorest of spots,

the ones that have bled

many times before.

"He doesn't even really care about you."

"They don't even know you, do they."

"If they did, they would understand."

"Things would be different."

Thousands of voices,

screaming, taunting

echoing, mocking

piercing through my heart.

but through them all

a Voice is heard

quiet, but steady

calm, but firm.

"you are My child,"

"and I love you."

"I made you"

"with great thought and care"

"you are mine"

"and mine alone."

"why would you want anything different?"

Words of Love,

the Voice of Love,

cleansing water over wounds,

igniting fire in my heart.

the Face of Perfect Love,

casting out all fear
strengthening my hands to work,

my feet to move.

my eyes fixed upon

this Brilliant Love,

all else fades before

the brilliant glory.

My mind and heart

now echoing

with a simple yet beautiful truth:

I am His, and He is mine,

and I wouldn't ask for anything different.