The Testimony

I've been searching for the answer,

Since my fading days of youth.

What is wrong and what is right

And what is the truth?

Does it really matter,

In God's universal plan?

If I were to disappear,

Would He miss a grain of sand?

Would He look for me?

He's been waiting for my answer,

Since He made me in His hand.

Would I choose to follow Him

And would I make a stand?

Would I see His love for me

And would I really care?

Would I run into His arm,

If I saw Him standing there?

Would I recognize Him?

So He came down to look for me,

Shed his majesty and power.

And died on the wooden cross,

On the appointed hour.

When I saw the Son who died for me

To bear my sin and shame.

I chose to follow Him

And bear his holy name.

He came to look for me.

Back Alley Stray

She's a back alley stray

Kicked too many times.

She was fed every day

Broken promises and rhymes.

She no longer trusts that love would stay.

When I reach out to her

She instinctively flinches.

Afraid of what will reoccur,

Her right fist clinches.

She's not comforted by anything I say.

Haiku Poetry

One of my on-line friends posted instructions on writing Haiku poetry. I took it as a challenge. So... here it is:

Haiku poetry,

That strange Japanese art form,

Confines my writing.

Verbal symmetry

Forces my words to conform,

Substance / form fighting.

Distorted Vision

Two months ago, I went to the doctor because of a headache that wouldn't go away. After extensive testing, I was diagnosed with cataract.  Evidently, my brain was detecting vision changes before I realized that my sight was impaired.

The doctor told me that, although cataract is usually the result of aging, occasionally, young people get it. After doing some research on the topic, I found out that cataract is caused by overexposure to ultraviolet light and other electro-magnetic waves in that frequency spectrum.

In my case, I suspect that I've spent too much time in the sun without sunglasses and too much time working with microwave transmitters and receivers.

They've scheduled my eye surgery in October and in November.

In the past two weeks, the degradation of my eye sight has accelerated. Now, I can see that my vision is bad. Everything is a bit foggy and none of the colors are quite right. During the night time, I see halos around light sources (lamps, street lights, etc.).

I'm starting to wonder if what I ever saw was ever what it really was. What are the consequences of my misperceptions?  How can I make the right choices if I can not see the choices for what they are?

My eyes can not be trusted to be true.

My heart is colored by shades of grey.

I question the beauties that I pursue

And question the price that I'm willing to pay.

What must I do to discern

Which colors in my pallet are askew?

How many times must the color wheel turn

Before I can see the truth comes through.

Altered Vision

Once, I dated an amazing looking girl,
A life-size Barbie with no physical flaw.
She stands toe to toe with the beauties of the world;
Men and boys would stare at her with awe.

Though she may possess the perfection of woman's form,
Her heart beats the rhythm of an immature child.
Her tantrum erupts like a sudden April storm
With no dissuading the logic of a girl gone wild.

She wants what she wants, with no apologies.
Even if it's something the situation doesn't allow.
"Can't it be fixed with modern technologies?"
She screams, "I want it and I want it, now!"

Cognizant of my distaste for her demeanor,
I took great pain to suck it up day after day.
But failing to change the bag in the vacuum cleaner,
My peeve finally spilled over the other way.

I started to focus on two minor flaws
That normally would not be a deal breaker.
She smokes cigarettes without a pause
And curses like a whore from Hell's half acre.

The beauty, whose match was once unmet,
Is now obstructed by these two specks in my eyes.
I see only her lips holding a cigarette
Between which the flow of profanity never dies.

Spinning Time

Spinning plates on their poles

Line the hours of my day.

My balancing acts take their tolls

My sanity slowly slips away.

Racing from one wobble to another

My life slowly disappears.

More frequently I wonder, "Why bother?"

Quickly, my days turn into years.

Voter Rage

As this legislative session, of the U.S. Congress, drags on, I am, once again, disappointed by democracy.  My blood boils as I watch greed and stupidity running rampant through the bills being considered and passed by this congress. 

How can you call it free election

When you spend tens of millions on a single campaign?

How can you call it unbiased legislation

When you sit, with the lobbyists, sipping champagne?

How can you call it leadership qualities

When you make each decision by taking a poll?

And kept that thief, in your House, with no apologies,

When you found, in his freezer, money that he stole.

How can you call it compassionate virtues

When you divvy out a pittance to those who hunger?

How can you call it family values

When you cheat, on your wife, with someone younger?

I want a veto on this political process!

I want a veto on this political process!