Flashback Friday: “Warning!” Poem (Hi My name is Prejudice)

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Here is my obligatory denunciation of racism, and all other forms of prejudice for that matter, left as I first wrote it at sixteen. Note as a teenager I was warning us all to beware of our own prejudices first and foremost. Change begins with ourselves.

Warning!

Hi! My name is prejudice
You better beware of me.
Because I come in every shape
And any size, you see.
You can never be exactly sure
Who I am or where I’ll be.
Red, black, white, or polka dots
It matters not to me.
As long as I’m causing irrational fear
And panic, I’m as happy as can be.
So go ahead and play your games,
All you want with me.
I don’t care, but you best beware.
Because my name is prejudice, you see
And I can be anyone and everyone
No one is safe from me.
Lock your doors & windows, if you dare.
You can’t escape from me.
I’ll find you, all the same
And you’ll never even know it was me.
What I do you want to know?
Fine, but you didn’t here it from me.
I am the king of irrational fear and panic.
I feed off of ignorance and low self esteem.
I fill your head with false truths.
And your heart with fear, you see.
I’ll take away your very soul.
Leaving a lifeless mongrel to replace.
Away I’ll fling your true friends
And leave only the other victims of me.
I’ll turn you into your worst fear.
Just another clone of me.
Hi! My name is Prejudice
And you better beware of me.

[tweetthis remove_twitter_handles=”true”]Flashback Friday: “Warning!” #Poem Hi My name is Prejudice. You’d better beware of me. #racismsucks [/tweetthis]

There Was Light

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photo credit: blavandmaster Light overflow via photopin (license)

There was light in the dawn
Spreading over separating waters,
Sweeping over drying land
As the dust sprouted people and grass.
Chasing dusk with dawn and dawn, dusk,
Life from the word, and the word was “Good,”
The word from the light in the dawn.

There was light on the tree,
Hammered down with nails nine inches long,
Poured out as an offering of love
On the masses and their children,
Wrapped in cloths and lain in a tomb
And left three days before anyone came,
Three days from the light on the cross.

There was light outside the grave
That could not keep him locked inside
But admitted defeat as the boulder
Was shoved aside and the angels
Proclaimed;. the women feared
And the women rejoiced: He has risen!
Rejoiced for the light defeated the grave.

There was light in the followers
Who would not recant the savior
They knew and loved and trusted,
But kneeled down and chose not
life that was death but death
With him that was life eternal
For the light in the followers was life.

There was light in the dusk
When the trumpet sounded
And Hope rode on a white horse
Whisking away in a twinkling eye
Those who believe he would come
And washed away their tears,
For the light in the dawn was the light in the dusk.

[tweetthis remove_twitter_handles=”true” remove_hidden_hashtags=”true” remove_hidden_urls=”true”]There was light on the tree, Hammered down with nails nine inches long, Poured out as an offering of love[/tweetthis]

Home to Glory

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photo credit: MashrikFaiyaz Road to Heaven II via photopin (license)

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away.”

–Rev 21:4

I slipped into my grandpa’s room,
Eyes swollen from crying,
Fear gripping my heart,
Expecting to see a shriveled-up skeleton
With sunken eyes filled with despair.
Imagine to my surprise, I found
Just my grandpa, looking small in the bed,
Shriveled up yes, but my, there’s that same sparkle
In his eyes, and smile on his lips!

“Grandpa,” cried I, “What’s this joy I see?
How can you be so glad?
You’re dying! How can you smile?”

Grandpa laughed and, as he swung his legs to the floor,
He said, “Because there isn’t any loneliness in heaven,
And there isn’t any pain.
When I die, I’ll be free from this body of decay,
I’ll put on Glory and run to my Jesus,
And Jesus will take me up to the mansion he’s built for me,
To live where my Gladys lives and never be alone.”

And again, he cried, “Glory, child, Glory makes me glad.
Come death, as it may,
But I’m going home to glory!
I’ll be with my Jesus forever, by and by
In the place where there is no more sorrow,
and there will be no more pain,
nor any tears, and there will be no more death.
And forever I will cry Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!”

Seeing the disbelieving look in my eyes,
And knowing the doubt in my heart,
Grandpa said to me, “Bring me my walker,
I’d like to take you to see a couple friends of mine.”

When Grandpa had his walker and we were going down the hall,
He said, “Now first is Brother Larry. He was redeemed
Seven years ago from wild, riotous livin’,
But is reaping the fruits of his sin in his flesh still yet,
This is his twelfth trip to the hospital this year,
And it looks like it is gonna be his last.”

“Wow,” said I, “Now he has to be upset.”

Grandpa just smiled at me and introduced me to Larry.
Larry was wasted in the flesh as I’d expected,
But imagine my surprise, instead of fear in his eyes
And a frown etched on his face, there was the same twinkle
In the eye and smile on the lips!

“Larry,” said I, “What’s this joy I see?
How can you be so glad? You’re dying!
Why this cheerful countenance?”

And Larry cried, “Because there ain’t no devil in Heaven!
Nor is there any tempter in Glory,
When I die, I’ll go to heaven and be free from this body of sin.
I’ll run to Jesus and put on His righteousness.
Jesus will take me up to live with him in the mansion he’s built for me,
Free from the tormentor forever in Glory.”

And again, he cried, “Glory, Darlin’, Glory makes me glad.
Come death, as it may,
But I’m going home to glory!
I’ll be with my Jesus forever, by and by
In the place where there is no more sorrow,
and there will be no more pain,
nor any tears, and there will be no more death.
And forever I will cry Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!”

Now that was impressive, but Grandpa had still another friend
To introduce me to.

“Now, next we have Sister Lisa. She’s about your age.
Never had a boyfriend.
Never been kissed.
There’s a tumor in her brain,
Which is slowly snuffing out her light.”

Having not yet learned my lesson, I entered Lisa’s room
Expecting to see a pain-wracked body,
Filled with anger and hate,
Trying to mask the fear in her eyes,
This time I was still yet more surprised
To find yet again the exact same twinkle
In the eye and smile on the lips!

“Lisa,” said I, “How can you be so glad? You’re dying!
Before you’ve even had a chance to live!”
What’s this joy I see?

Lisa clapped her hands and said, “Because there ain’t no pain in Heaven!
Nor is there any Sorrow in Glory,
When I die, I’ll go to heaven and be free from this body of death,
I’ll put on my bridal gown and go meet the Bridegroom,
Jesus will be my escort to the Great Wedding Feast,
Where I will live life abundantly, forever in Glory.”

And again, she cried, “Glory, Friend, Glory makes me glad.
Come death, as it may,
But I’m going home to glory!
I’ll be with my Jesus forever, by and by
In the place where there is no more sorrow,
and there will be no more pain,
nor any tears, and there will be no more death.
And forever I will cry Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!”

This time, my heart too welled up,
Having been moved by these three testimonies,
And the Hope Grandpa and his friends had in Jesus,
I went down on my knees,
And choose this Christ who gives joy in the face of death.
So now someday I shall also sing:

Glory, child, Glory makes me glad.
Come death, as it may,
But I’m going home to glory!
I’ll be with my Jesus forever, by and by
In the place where there is no more sorrow,
and there will be no more pain,
nor any tears, and there will be no more death.
And forever I will cry Glory, Glory Hallelujah!”

—Andrea J. Graham

[tweetthis]“Glory, Friend, Glory makes me glad. Come death, as it may, But I’m going home to glory!”[/tweetthis]

 

Flashback Friday: Sheol

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I wrote this in college at eighteen or nineteen years old. Note Sheol is the place of the dead in ancient Hebrew.

Sheol

CristiYor / Pixabay

There used to be others here, once.
But that was a long time ago.
They told me pretty stories, fables,
Things I have never felt,
Touched, heard, or tasted.
She, I think she was my mother,
Spoke of color and light,
She spoke of stars above,
A world without pain so constant
You forget it is there,
But it was all a lie.
There is no light,
Just this suffocating darkness.
I trip and stumble,
My fingers are oozing again.
I place them in my mouth,
And taste salt, metal, grime.
I am down to the wiggly long
Slimy creatures since the carcasses
Are stripped to the hard parts.
Once again I fling myself upward,
Toward the alleged stars,
My claws are outstretched, ready
To tear down anything they grasp.
I fall back to the wet, black ooze;
I hear a crack and feel a pain
Intense enough for me to notice.
I run a hand down my leg. Yes.
Tensing, I snap the hard part
Back into place. It is agony,
But I am used to agony,
What else is there?
Then IT comes,
This nameless thing I
Cannot describe with any
Of my four senses.
It burns my eyes and melts
The comforting darkness,
As I realize, too late
That maybe, just maybe
The myths were true after all.
I retreat on hand and knee,
Stumbling back, trying
To escape this brightness
But even behind my eyes it seeps
Finally, my darkness shelters me
Again; yet IT is still there.
A voice calls from IT,
“Come child, come
Come to me, and face yourself,
Surrender to me
And I will cleanse you
Believe, and I will save you.
Come, child, come,
Come serve me and be free.”
I cry out, ragged, “NO!”
And it vanishes with a sigh
But my pounding heart tells me
It will be back.
For me.
For you.

[tweetthis display_mode=”box”]”It was all a lie. There is no light, Just this suffocating darkness.” #free #poetry “Sheol”[/tweetthis]

Pair this with: 1 Peter 2:9 – But you are a chosen race [people], a royal priesthood, a dedicated [holy] nation, [God’s] own purchased, special people, that you may set forth [declare] the wonderful deeds and display the virtues and perfections of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.

Flashback Friday: There is much too haste in City life

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Wrote this as a teenager, 15-17 years old probably, during my introvert days. Capitol-s “Sun” is a punny metaphor for the Son, i.e. Jesus Christ our Lord. In some ways, this almost advocates for a prayer closet/ war room years before it became popular, my favorite one then was outdoors. I always found it easier to concentrate on things like seeking the Lord in prayer outdoors, especially amongst trees. Anyway, hope this blesses you.

gewa / Pixabay

Tower of Refuge and Strength

There is much too haste in City life

No solace to be found, only strife’s dirge

Constantly and that of protest and lust all around

Society has forgotten the wisdom and the song in silence found

For she has cast off the Sun and built her own way

With a heavy and faint heart I ran from city strife

In search of the Sun, which not but dreams remembered

In the wooden clove I found my rest, my solace

No dirge here, my companion was but the song of silence

And reflected in the pool was the bright eye of the sun

I glanced up then, foolishly seeking the Sun’s own face

I was astounded by the brilliance of his glory

And all but blinded by his striking radiance

As the rainbow of his aura pierced with unknown peace

And filled me with such strength that I was unafraid

Many times when I am down I journey now to this quiet place

I eat of the gifts the Sun blesses within me

As I drink of the song found waiting in silence,

The joyful song spills forth from me, joining the solace

And I know, even with the ills of Society, I can remain free

[tweetthis]Flashback Friday: There is much too haste in City life#Poem #nature #sonshine #prayer[/tweetthis]