Ok so, I've had some trouble wanting to post some of my most intimate pieces, especially the one's that really come straight from who I am. But it's all about being vulnerable before people and relying solely on His hand for strength. So here are a couple of my most naked pieces.


Cliche

Love poems are so cliché.

Romantics today have lost all originality.
We all seem to whine about love and pain,
beauty that torments,
eyes that are like pools,
or the way your hair smells like lavender.

Well, that’s not necessarily for me,
but i hate to think I would be a bad poet if I wrote about your eyes
and how helpless I feel every time they begin to dance with mine;

or the touch of your hand
and how weak I get every time you leave it in mine longer than just a friendly "hello.”

Or if I wrote of your laugh,
and though it's just a giggle
I am suddenly back at the dentist
floating above the chair
completely high on the laughing gas.


Well, I’m sorry I can’t think of flashy words
or obscure metaphors to tickle your imagination
and make you think I said something more beautiful
than the Northern Lights on a midnight darkness in January

but I have this sickness you see,
I have this terrible habit of telling it exactly like it is

so here it goes...



You are beautiful.


And that’s kinda all I got;
in fact, that’s all I've ever really had
and I dont care how many guys have verbalized, lyricized or scripturalized that to their "girl"
because none of them have ever said it the way my stomach screams it
every time you come around
and i still cant believe you havent heard it yet!

And what if your eyes really are like pools
except yours have become so full of the essence of God i call them OCEANS,
oceans to which i am scared to death to swim in
but i would take a torpedo and sink this broken ship
if it meant i could feel them loving me back for just one sunrise.


Or what if every time i catch a whiff of your hair
my daydreams really become fields of lavender
as i sit behind you staring into your thoughts
and a couple of rich, brown strands leap from the rest
just to dance on my nostrils

or what if i told you that when you smile...
all i have strength for is surrender.
My cares, my hopes, my desires and certainly these very words,
they are all forfeited just for your very beauty...
I cant even lift my arm in revolution when you look at me

And what if every time you laugh
i really can hear the songs of angels not yet fallen
and my future is secured on Eternity’s shores with you at my side, your hand in mine
because your laugh...

your laugh makes me want to die.

So call me cliché,
call me a terrible poet,
buy my book out of pity obligation with your couch change
and throw it on your forgotten shelf for the spiders to flip through as they spin their webs,
but at least their homes will be filled with a love that is real,
and they will know truth from the Holy Spirit dwelling within these pages.

And maybe one day you will decide to read it.
Maybe one day you will take it off that shelf and glance over these words,
and maybe then you will know

that when i say
your laughter is heavenly,
your eyes are greater than oceans,
and your hair is sweeter than rain...


Maybe then you will know...



that it's true.