2 Metaphors (Poem)


Hanging Empty

A broken bird feeder hangs crookedly from a barren tree
Red with clear plastic
             Picked clean or dumped out
                    Taken for what it’s worth
             Leaving it to hang in silence

The image is sullen and sad
      So similar to how many of us treat others
             Even occasionally
             Even without sociopathic intent

The red and clear bird feeder hangs
      Swaying in the light breeze
             That refreshes the lungs of you or I
             But leaving the emptiness of the vessel more apparent
                    For the weightlessness of the plastic container allows for greater manipulation by the wind
                    And for the pull of gravity to be weakened

The truth in metaphor reminds that the empty void of the soul in loneliness and affray
      Opens the vitality of a restful mind to greater
                    And manipulation by the winds
                           And gravity
                           And a capriccio of time

Ducks in a Row..

Ducks in a Row - 2Cor11:19 

To suffer fools gladly is a daunting endeavor,
 And I surely won't do it for long or forever..
 A mistake now and then, or occasional lapse,
 Is human, but keeping it up is for saps!

Everything in its place, and a place for all things..
 Not knowing the Word(s) is what laziness brings!
 Whether giving directions, or singing the song,
Not knowing the Truth is emphatically wrong!

The climb up the Mountain of Learning is tough,
 and the slide down the Valley of Error is rough..
But unless you perspire at least eighty per cent,
 Sound thinking is just what you gave up for Lent!

The computer goes tilt when the info is wrong
 and if you're off key it just ruins the song.
 The Mountain of Logic will certainly grow..
 But for sure you must have your ducks in a row!

Little Bean

Something grows inside of me.

I've read all the books

They tell me how at 10 weeks it now looks.

The size of my thumb

It's not longer than a piece of gum.

30 more weeks a baby you'll be.

I shall become a mommy when this being comes out of me.

What will I do if something goes wrong?

What if my body won't alow me to carry you for so long?

I worry constantly over this little bean like thing.

I have hopes of holding it live and healthy to which I cling.

I'm unhealthy and sick and ill.

What if I can't ever carry you despite all my good will?

If this little bean dies inside of me, so shall I this I know.

If this tiny baby dies, from this world I shall also go.

If you sweet child die,

So must I.

For thumb sized or no,

Already I love you so.


A Little Poison..

    Just a little poison in a pot that once was clean

Is like a broken piston in a modern day machine.

Instead of running smoothly, it will not fly at all!

It violates the flagpole, or drives you up the wall.

    Just a little poison in a pot without a crack

is like misinformation in a sacred almanac..

Separating truth from fiction isn't all that easy..

Wheat & chaff dividing takes place where it is breezy.

    Just a little poison in a pot that doesn't leak,

is like without a paddle when you're up the muddy creek..

Like the fox that's in the coop, or the fly that's in the soup,

Is the lack of knowledge in degrees from Aesop's College.

   Just a little poison in a pot we've grown to trust

Is like a little leaven in a loaf without a crust..

Unless you change the leaven, You've surely sealed your fate,

But then you have to eat it all; Be sure to lick the plate!


Death, your method.

Hello inmates welcome to your cells.

Your heads' buried in the sand,

Incapacitated by your own actions and very own hands.

Welcome to your personally made hells.

I'm sure we'll get to know you all here very well.

Next cell to your right a crackhead sold her own daughter


Forced sex for her cocaine, it seemed a good barter.

She owes the dealer too much money and

her sex won't pay his bills, honey.

He'll shoot her in the head.

She'll make a point to his other slaves to pay up once she's found dead.

And to your left don't worry about him, the blue man they've already tried to resuscitate,

we suppose here that, that booze and handful of pills to take him down was his predestined fate.

Across the hall there's a girl who's pulled out her own feeding tube and I.V.

It's because at 81 pounds she's still so very fat don't you see?

Beside her another girl, don't worry about.

She shoved her finger down her throat too many times, finally her esophagus ruptured and heart gave out.

Don't scream, shout, cry, or pout.

You joined our club willingly didn't you know death is all we are about?

There's a teenaged boy down the hall other direction going nowhere better.

Blood stains the sleeves of his sweater.

We take turns betting how long it'll be 'til he finally gets it right

I lost.

I thought he would have gotten that bleed out artery before last night.

Do you smell the burning hair and skin?

A husband blew his cell up making crank in the bathroom.

Take a bet on the crackhead, girl or boy?

You might win.

It'll matter not your soul and life are already ours.

You've already been.

There's no negotiations, no bail.

This is life until death.

Not a short term jail.

We're already taking numbers gambling on your own last breath.

Just waiting to take you to your own death...

It might have been just the first time you stuck that dope filled needle in

your arm, thinking to cause no harm this very day.

Tonight you might have driven home safely drunk with no crashes on your journey's way.

You might have just had one hit of that crack with your friend, unknowingly starting your end.

You might have lost just a few pounds a little too fast.

It matters not. Your life will soon be past.

It might have been your first time this very day.

This matters not to us we'll first take your soul and then your life eventually anyway.

We've fooled brave men much more intelligent than you many times before.

Words spoken could never be more true.

Honey, there's only one thing you might can do.

Start digging your way out as fast as you can if you're not too deep already.

Never look back.

When you stop forgetting to fear us, that's when we will attack.

This is your last chance.

Get out now if you can.

Otherwise, it is until death we shall dance.

It's not a long duet, a very short dance indeed.

You've already planted seeds to a parasitic weed.

Run, Run, Run as fast as you can.

But if you're not fast and properly scared we shall catch you again.

You see, we are the method man.

The fallen angel.

The prince of the earth.

And with us if you can't escape you'll soon smolder in the bottom of our hearth.

Make your choices wisely and give them lots of thought.

You won't be very difficult.

We've got you already mostly caught.



Sailing. 1Tim1:19, Jn6:21

If the storms of life have rocked your boat
 and turned you all but loose,
 And you're upset and mad at those
 who've helped to cook your goose..
 Remember you're a vessel too
 Don't get shipwrecked in your mind,
Listen to some sound advice,
 and to your ears be kind.

Your boat won't sink or even founder
 If the Lord is there with you..
 And you can choose!..He won't refuse
 to join your motley crew..
 The minute Peace gets in the boat,
 you'll be on the Other Side..
 Your sails of fortune soon will fill,
 So you'll enjoy the ride!

John 6:21 tells us "they willingly received [Jesus] into the ship; and immediately the ship was at the land whither they went."  Can't you just picture the rooster-tail on that ship! 


Lot's Wife

Lot's Wife - Genesis 19:26

If you would become a Pillar of  Salt,
Repent! Look back, and consider your fault.
 Then follow the teachings of Jesus,
 believing He's who he said..
 Forgetting the things that are past..
 Reaching forward to what's ahead.

If you would become a Pillar of Salt,
Your wicked old ways must come to a halt.
 Die to that old way of life!
 Leave Sodom forever behind!
 Get yoked together with Jesus
(Don't look back!)
 It's the Way to get straight in your mind! 

  • Current Mood
    optimistic optimistic



That’s the amount of bills in my wallet and bank account

Now I’m searching purses for change I can count

I need money for a hit, what I crave what I need

I just needle a little for my veins to water Satan’s seed

Then I’ll be calm and happy my worries far away

Perhaps in the future I won’t love you need you one day

For now in my body, veins, heart and mind heroin will stay

I scrounge around looking for cash

I desperately try to find some remnants from an old stash

Desperation, exasperperation, prespiration

Just take me down the rabbit hole

Submerge me like a warm ocean, take me whole

Heroin.. I fucking need you.

  • Current Music
    farmhouse- Phish

Road to Damascus


Have you been on the road to Damascus? Have you asserted your right to protest?
I don't fault you for not believing it all, but why haven't you taken the test?
"DO IT YOURSELF, IF YOU WANT IT DONE RIGHT", is advice my father gave me..
and anything as important as eternal life should be given a high priority.

So finally I've taken the bull by the horns, and set out to see for myself,
If this book called the Bible is at all reliable, or is it better left on the shelf?
My studies have ranged from the Hebrew to Greek, and to begin with was utter confusion..
But little-by-little the Light came through, until now it's a great profusion!

Were they saying it like this all along, and I just didn't have ears to hear?
I don't recall it making any sense at all--their point was just not clear.
I'd always thought it was the Preacher's job; Isn't that what we paid him for?
Though I never agreed that his word was for me, and I slept 'cause I was so bored.

He claimed that the things he preached were from the Holy Bible..
and I had enough sense not to argue with him--he might be infallible.
So I tried to read The Book for myself--the words from the Book of Life;
It was in my mind to do what it said, but I only got over in strife.

The things I read in Genesis didn't make good sense at all..
If God wrote this book, I decided, He just did it to get my gall!
But now that I've come to know Jesus, and the terms of the New Covenant,
I've seen that a veil was over the Old; that those ways were not permanent.

If God were real, I once reasoned, Would anything be too tough for Him?
No! So why doesn't he just announce his presence, and convict me of my sin?
I'm ready to take my punishment, or at least I thought I was...
Why did he wait till it got so great, and I became a lost cause?

The answers to these questions are now made clear to me,
And I'll tried to spell them out for you--for your benefit, you see.
If your beliefs are like concrete: thoroughly mixed up and firmly set,
Then give this poem to a friend who hasn't been saved as yet.

Paul's trip on the Road to Damascus was for the purpose of exposing a lie...
But when that Great Light shined on him, he knew it was do-or-die.
It turned his life around, and set his feet on the street called "Straight",
and when the scales came off his eyes, he knew it was "Fish, or cut bait".

These days the Capital of Syria is still Damascus, and is in the news lately because of the revolution in that Moslem nation.. -- Isaiah 17 has prophesied concerning how Damascus would no longer be a city, but instead 'a ruinous heap'.   Shades of Hiroshima, you think?

My closet

Disclaimer:This is original work under an alias. All materials, content and forms contained under my alias (beth_7891) are my intellectual property and may not be copied, reproduced, distributed or displayed without my express written permission.

Opening the closet
I get a glimpse of my desire for you
Begging to be worn
I touch it briefly with my fingers
And it coats my skin thoroughly
With a fervent heat

I hear your keys on the door
And the greeting on your tongue

I am already dressed