Note: The photograph that accompanies this work was taken October 15th when God sent the Phoenix, the symbol of rebirth. This photograph is another example of God’s energy. He manipulates the green Orb to reveal His footprint!
Dried-up Noise the voices tingled in my head repeated phrases it said words in condemn words in criticize words in broken malice –bringing my heart to dread I listened for a time put it in rhyme– to draw lines –casting it all aside then pulling it back inside all those words– written and said words people used as led drowning me in their dead –pounding me over the head for those words...out...I bled laying on my bed not kneeling beside laying...in stillness staring out...in semi-light –this blank picture in...did reside wondering about all these lies asking: 'what's the point...why what's the hard...in kind –where folks don't even try' crying my eyes– 'til they were red all that noise...all of it– poundings of syllables over each...my heart– continued in bled –over lost thoughts I became wed pondering the breaded words fed covering me with their heated lead then it began to happen unknown masked covers– I began to shed piece by piece stripping them off of me laying them out on the table– carefully examining them– debating if I wanted to keep this one or that one yelling at some praising others –laughing over the fun of some agreeing with those that led to hard lessons ridiculing those that made me feel silly and dumb across the table– all of them I spread some: kept me above water in tread others: mended brokenness with the tinniest of threads some: out of me...came the best others: made me sit back in rest while still others: seemed only to be a contest lost in a conquest of an enjoyable fest –those brought out the sexiness ending in me being less through all of them– came an abundance of noise shaking up my poise trying to sink in...my voice so I had this choice: picking through each– as they laid there on this simple table– used to wine and dine no, not I...it wasn't the time as I looked at each– I slowly awakened from blind moving from this carefree feline to something more magnificent –not a lioness falling in line but more of the spectrum of a roaring lion –taking that dried-up byline 'I am fine' to something closer to divine each little façade that set up a moment's drive– I began to divide 'til the table was full of times overflowing...actually –moments of self I didn't recognize a little...I cried I over-indulged at times in what I ate adding a bit of weight –trying hard to saturate what drove each mask to sedate –what invited in the noise but that was it– I wondered in surprise there was no drinking it away there was no sexting in obliviate– that led to sex in fake there was no desiring need to get high or even serious moments of wanting to die I sat...laid...stood– all in unchartered wonder asking myself: why –I pondered this mystify from the bedroom to the bathroom from the living room to the kitchen even the spaces in between reading social media on the bed binging out on the sofa sitting at the table– smoking cloves, drinking sodas fixing coffee in the kitchen staring at empty space staring at all I possess singing along to my favorite tunes talking it out with myself talking it out...to the air talking it out with God† asking over and over: 'what had changed' wondering, searching as I starred down at the table then the questions stopped! each piece...I began to shred as each piece met its death– its destructive words...fled like a menacing rodent– they just up and left something began to happen: the table's clutter began to become less each mask staring back at me each tiny piece of each whole saddened its face– and just up and left the weight.... that laid heavy on me in rest became less and less 'what is happening' I kept asking– without trying to answer in guess words just didn't come instead...something unknown: in self...less and less I wasn't anymore feeling– like a guest the words that once tingled my head the words that I pondered –brought me to dead just left without...anymore...contest over which ones– I dreaded...would be next not anymore came a need to call came a need to text came a need...up...sex came a need...words in fed –sit around and dread empty...the table– bare and neat all that laid on it –without fighting I let go: shred I looked in my bathroom mirror –there she was the one...behind...I'd left on my face...added lines in my hair...a silver shine oh my! all that time –my she was always waiting inside I stood there...listening nothing just memories of dried-up voices –all that...with me...toiled finally became soil beneath my feet! out of blind.... there's nothing in front of me but time unknown, undiscovered but...still...time –a newness in divine that I didn't know was mine!
(January 1, 2020)―I was led to Ezekiel this morning. The Parable of the Cooking Pot caught my eye. (I will explain it below.) I read it, then asked, ‘What to write, my Lord?’, but I was empty for a while. ‘The heart’…were words that kept coming through. I sat there for a while…still empty, then ‘Dried-up Noise’ bled on the page. It’s truth. Yes, the continuing story of my own life being used as a symbol of life in a way. And…God: After writing this and typing in the parable, I was led to read more, then type in the rest of the Scripture under the two titles: ‘Siege of Jerusalem’ and ‘Siege Announced to Ezekiel’. It gets even more interesting: I’m directed to read the explanations by my Bible’s commentarians. I’ve read all of them once back in 2007, and since then, I’m not compelled to read them over often or include them in my commentaries. Today, was different. For good reason. God is answering me in a very big way!
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