Samaritans Guise

We're all the rap-chattle of the world

The odds and ends of broken finger bones

and type-cast surfaces. 

Men and women from every walk of life

Welcome here to the ragged masquerade.

Poets and bleeders, and ballers and readers

Scrapped and trapped in a lonely loop,

The rule here is

hush hush.

Behind poetry we hide

The wide windows of our eyes

Obscured tentatively

Behind computer screens.

Lo behold like a dream,

You wake an recall what you've forgotten.

Here we stand

the whole world wide yawning before us.

All creation claps its hands

The Creator longs to restore us.

How many stories to be told?

Just one, all I have, I know

The glory does not belong to me

I long to tell, of Him, you see.

Just what the Master means to me.

You see we're all skittish poets

From the master Poet's hand

Forged of clay and copper

Broken doll limbs, life and-

All the merry breakers of this world demand-

But we stand on the Master's hands.

I am a skittish poet bleedings schisms of skittish color

Born the undertakers daughter

and twice shy of death before three.

I became the snarling hopeless

In the wake of broken family.

There is nothing redeemable in me,

Nothing redeeming in me either

I get the first row glimpse of my self

Front row, I spit in Christ's face daily

God, but my God is it a crowd pleaser.

Why do I tell you this?

The MAster-Man guised as a Samaritan

-Good?  Certainly, robed in majesty-

Walked down the road to pick up my ragged bleeding form

When all others passed me by.

But I being myself loved the dirt and the anger

Cleansed myself with filth and made myself dirtier.

Be realistic now, don't we all?

He reached for me and I swung at Him.

He picked me up and I pissed on Him,

He cleansed my wounds,

I reopened them,

No end to my spite it seems.

But He opened me eyes

And it was wonderful

He opened my ears

I finally could see,

He opened my heart,

It was agony

And clarity.

I finally see,

Nothing good in me.

Despairing but hopeful,

Because you see...

 

Christ was good.

As I could never be.

And He gave His rightness.

To me.

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