Satan Cracks Me Up

I’ve tuned into a Jesus Devotee this year. He’s taken over all of my social media, and the rest of my life. I got saved as a child but after a life of trials had come to the conclusion that we were probably all right.

Then all the stuff earlier this year (see blog)and now I’m a Jesus freak, so, whatever. Anyway, back to Satan. He doesn’t like me because I’m so into Jesus, even though I love Satan too, in some ways.

God and me love everyone. Anyway, the other day he started messing with my ears. Now they ring all the time.

He thinks he can make me forget to tell everyone that Satan exists only in your head. It is hard, and I can’t do it while writing this because I’m looking at a screen.

When I’m done being my head to write, I’m going to tell my brain to shut up and to quit being such a narcissist. Then I’m going to close my eyes and be my body and soul. You can too.

What’s going on?

I’m kind of at a loss

Wondering why my life You’d toss

I’m sure You’ve got some plan

But I’d like to understand

Exactly what’s going on

You want me to get strong

But the method is so tough

I doubt I’m strong enough

To handle it this way

What I’m trying now to say

Is that I’m feeling scared

I don’t think I’m prepared

To handle life this way

What my heart keeps trying to say

Is that even though I’m confused

I’m sure I’m being used

But how and in what ways?

And for how many days?

I’ll try to make it through

I know I can trust You

Even when it hurts

The bad times come in spurts

Good things are around the bend

The pain will one day end

Until I understand

Please Savior, hold my hand.

Some nights…

 Like tonight, 

I stay awake.

Wondering

About you.

If you are out there

Somewhere

Real.

More than my imagination.

More than my daydream.

More than your words

On a screen

In my hand

And in my heart.

I love the fantasy I have of you.

I love that you don’t actually see me.

There is something so beautiful about a world freed from reality.

I can be myself, without being my total self.

It is beautiful

Until

Some nights

Like tonight…

Suspension of disability

   Sometimes in my dreams I can run. Like any normal person, playing in the sun. I wake up feeling stiff and sore, And for a moment I believe it’s nothing more Than all that running from last night. Then …

Prisoner

Prisoner A prisoner to no man. To no woman. My body is my sadistic captor. It thrives on my humiliation. It writhes in ecstasy as I languish with pain. It forces me to acknowledge the chains it binds me with. …

To be free

Today I chose to be free.

I shed my comforting skin for the exhilarating rush of the unknown.

I laughed at my fears and blew them away like a puff of smoke.

I decided I’d rather regret the chances I didn’t take than those I did.

I took a chance.

Sometimes taking risks pays off.

Sometimes it doesn’t. 

Today, I choose to be free.

I will take the moment and cling to it. 

I will savor each heartache and each victory, knowing they are neither good, or bad.

I will unburden myself from the expectations of others.

From the expectations of myself.

Today I choose to be free.

Good night, Sleep tight

 My friend, and man of many talents, Richard Thomas, has an exciting thing going on with his online magazine Gamut.

He mentioned that his site will even have some dark poetry, which inspired this rhyme. Go check his powerhouse, Gamut out after reading! By the way, he’ll be offering some great opportunities for writers (which most of us bloggers aspire to be).

What is it now, you frightened child,

With tousled hair and eyes so wild?

The bed bug monsters in your head

Grow when you get out of bed.

Staying in bed keeps them so small,

They might not even bite at all.

In fact, your fear makes them more strong

So hush now child, and run along

Be careful not to make too much noise

Bed bugs love the taste of girls and boys

If you start to cry, they’ll make you scream.

You’ll wish it was only a bad dream.

They’ll rip you open, and eat your heart

They’ll tear your little body apart.

So you’d better get right back in bed,

Before the morning finds you dead.

Good night my child, hope you sleep tight

Don’t let all the bed bugs bite!

What if…

What if the beliefs you’ve been taught we’re simply beliefs you’ve been taught?

What if you did what you wish the world do?

What if today was the day you became you?

What if you stopped being your past or your future, and you started to be?

What if you were not your thoughts, or your mood, or your parents?

What if you were the person you were made to be?

  

Funny: A bedtime story

 
He had never been popular. Tod was a normal looking kid who got average grades in his typical middle school. 

He wasn’t very athletic, nor one of those “bad boy” types who seemed to always be sneaking around with a cigarette or a girl.

The fact that girls seemed to go for guys like that, was almost enough to bring him back to the “girls are stupid” phase, except for her. Julie.

She had everything a 14 year old boy could long for and more. The only problem was that Julie was popular, aka blind to the rest of humanity, especially nobodies like him.

So Tod daydreamed about doing something amazing.

When the news segment was about a school shooting in Florida, he fantasized about being the kid who took the gunman down and saved the class.

If the weatherman mentioned the possibility of strong storms, he fantasized about leading Julie’s class out of a damaged school.

Even his dreams were about giving Julie the Heimleich maneuver or saving her from a distracted driver at the crosswalk.

He’d be the hero somehow. It felt like his destiny.

One year. 

In one year he’d gone from being unpopular to the most popular kid in school, and now, here he was reading a note from Julie, and she’s calling him her hero.

One year of tests, diagnoses, medications and hospitals was all it took to be a hero. Well, that and his life. 

He’d never imagined dying in a hospital bed before he turned 16, but he could feel it coming. Funny, he thought to himself.

Censorship

There simply is a time and place

To show the sides of your writer’s face.

I tend to post it all too quick

From beautiful to really sick

But sometimes I need a gentle remind 

That some of it should be held behind

The doors that only a few people see

Some might be better only for me.

That doesn’t mean I’m being fake

There’s only so much the world can take.

So I will try to keep a lid

On the writings that are better hid

Behind the public social wall

The view available to all.

Self-censorship is something I can do

Whether the piece is fake or true. 

I’ll have a secret writing mind

And leave the controversy behind.