Potential Energy

I am a ten ton hammer poised to fall.
Force equals mass times acceleration due to gravity.
So, I am a ten ton force existing on the brink.
Potential energy existing within my spring like limbs,
My limber limbs lack luster, but are not lackluster.
My strength of body exists simply as an example for strength of mind.
A blueprint for the future set upon the foundation of the heretofore.
It’s pen inked with the solace of my spirit.
That tenuous force that guides the wayward
And brings remedy to the stricken and downtrodden.

So I am a ten ton force.
And I am driving piles into the swamp of self.
Pumping out water to make space for the edification
Of this human race.
It all starts within myself.
So I take this hammer and raise it up to the heavans.
With one switch of the mind,
I bring it crashing down—
Forcing order on entropy.
Divinity and the other half,
And building calluses from my bloodied hands.
Can’t nobody tell me what a dollars worth,
I know the exact amount of blood and sweat
It takes to dig a ditch with a pickaxe.
And though I know the flow of blood slows,
Coagulates and grows into scabs that show
The world for what it truly is,
I have no fear that fear can disappear,
And love can clear the clouds of confusion.
Replacing them with that clear vision—
I am a ten ton force
And can’t no man keep me down,
But the one standing before you.

Whats worst?
To be held down,
Or to have never tried to rise?
To have stared at the dirt ones whole life?
Or to have gazed at the skies?
I am not even a broken winged bird,
I am a groveling dung beetle,
Making my life on the refuse and waste of others,
On the land that no other wanted.
I welcome constraints and limitations,
Confusions and upheaval.
Give me pain and frustrations,
Anger and tears.
Lord knows if I didn’t have them,
I’d have made them on my own.
Give me the higher path,
Or give me a mountain and a walking stick.
Show me the highest mountain peak,
And it will be my next step.

These lines are not enough
To sacrifice for love.
This language is not enough
To sacrifice for love.
There is not enough breath in my lungs,
Nor Blood in my veins,
To sacrifice for my love.
And if I sundered every part of my body,
Atom by atom.
Molecule by molecule.
That pain would not be enough of a sacrifice for my love.
Since my death cannot be a sacrifice to thee,
I offer thee my life, my dance, my laughter, my hope and my joy
As a sacrifice to thee my love.
That I may drive piles into this last,
Until all that exists,
Is this ten ton hammer,
And these two callused hands,
Service in sacrifice,
A potentiality of love.
And nothing more.

I am a ten ton hammer,
But it takes a ten ton soul
To set me free.

An actually finished peice - Evening Tides

I set out each eventide,
Walking the path through scent laden allies,
And noise filled tenement blocks.
I look up at the buildings as if to determine
Which windows are gateways to new worlds?
And which are simply empty.
Those vacant memories warm me with their sunshine--
They are a vapid tendril of some truth I am yet to know.
I am ever hopeful that the new homeowners
Might have better luck then their neighbors.
These vacant windows-
They are the placeholders at some great meal,
At some great judgment,
Of which I bring myself to account each day—
Hoping to take the edge off of consequences
Of the inhabitants of these tenement blocks.
Hoping to save them from a little bit of that misery they already know.

The streets are still swimming with meandering scenes
Waiting to be fulfilled
By the everyday players
Of this—our greatest play.
Or to rephrase:
The only play showing in town.
As this walk turns into a trot,
And this trot into a canter,
And this canter races the very waves of the
Moonlit tide which wash away the transgressions
Of the day.
I grab my surfboard and go for a ride among the stars.
Ever mindful of the Orion and his nasty temper.
As I take a drink from the Big Dipper,
I return to places long forgotten:
Simultaneously the events reenact themselves
As my hands begin trembling,
And my heart starts to pound.
This eventide comes with a terrifying truth:
The shark is lurking.
His teeth pearly white,
His eyes a placid grey,
And his smile--
His smile is ever enticing.
Fear is always inviting.
Especially when one is running.
And as he lunges through black steely water,
With the terrifying speed of thought,
I can do nothing but turn around and leap toward him,
With naught but a smile on my face,
And love in my heart.
That city of mind, heart and soul is to large.
Its foundations set too deeply into the blood my palms,
And the sweat of my brow.
I am too much to be devoured by
The darkness lurking in the shadows of the glassy blue night.
For I am fueled by the light of The Word.
I cannot be devoured,
For my soul belongs to He.

Not done as usual.

Oh God guide me,
Protect me from the things I cannot see,
And the things that I cannot be.
And set me on a line so straight,
That I can win over the hearts of this human race.
And make me a fire so hot
That I may set flame to mankind and their thoughts.
Well if these thoughts are one fire,
Maybe,
This is the funeral pyre,
Maybe,
This is the crux of my desire.
Maybe,
I'll do more than just perspire,
If I shine like an arrow of God
With my entire.
And maybe,
This is the inflection of time,
Words rhyme, the sea shines,
Telling me sunshine,
Is so kind.
So kindly we go,
To change words into action,
Stoicism to flows.
Till this world just explodes,
In a rainbow of sunshine.
Colored with the races of God,
And his design.