14 May 2011

daring

it's like a heartbeat
when you've run too hard
it pounds in your ear
i can barely hear
Where are You?
i come up for air sometimes
convincing myself all's well
all shall be well
and manner of things
but then the roar begins
Where are You?
and i gasp wondering
how i ended up here
Never doubt. Never
ever doubt He's working.
someday i'll see
Right here.
find You
breathe free

2 comments:

  1. Just saw your blog today.

    I have been hitchhiking the United States for most of 15 years.

    Just thought you would like to read this poem:

    Goodbye, Las Vegas
    By Tim Shey

    “Unreal City,
    Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
    A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
    I had not thought death had undone so many.”

    “He who was living is now dead
    We who were living are now dying”

    “Falling towers
    Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
    Vienna London
    Unreal”

    --T.S. Eliot
    “The Waste Land”



    Desert jackals
    Run to their destruction
    Hollow eyes see nothing
    Behind shades of glass
    Painted Jezebel faces
    Unrecognized by man
    Mourning becomes electric
    As piercing city lights
    Rape the virgin night

    This place never sleeps
    And never awakes from death
    Black Jack table bait
    Roll-the-dice breath
    Throw your money down
    This is casino heaven
    Idolatry never felt so good

    This harlot language doesn’t speak
    Straw fires always burn fast
    I see the Prophet Jeremiah weeping
    Over a people brought down to bankruptcy
    By a Queen, a King and three Aces

    A hitchhiker wanders hardened streets
    With his burden on his back
    This is the heart of darkness
    Lifeless buildings built with foolish gold

    I see Sodom burning
    And bodies turned to ash
    They were very fluent
    In arrogance, pride, adultery
    And enviropaganspeak

    You have sold your soul to Satan
    Do you remember Noah’s Flood?
    The City of David was sacked by Romans
    And America by Marxist-Darwin thugs

    The Stranger leaves the graveyard
    And the stench of Vegas Past
    And hitches a ride to Barstow
    Across the relentless Mohave
    On Interstate Fifteen

    ReplyDelete
  2. thanks for sharing, those are good! happy wanderings!

    ReplyDelete