God
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If I got some fantastic news, my first instinct would be to drop to my knees, throw my hands in the air, and belt out a Hallelujah—all the while saying “Thank you, Jesus!” of course. Now, if I was driving when the news hit, that might get a little tricky (and potentially lead to me
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“The lake still reflects and doubles anything at the water’s edge, making me feel I was there, and the double could shoulder and take all that is wrong with me and carry it away.” The Lake, the Screen, the Void It’s another day. The lake sits there, smug in its stillness, reflecting everything at the
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In this cell, my new pickle,Locked in like a riddle,God’s playin’ games, I’m in the middle,Brought a friend with a sickle. Prayin’ on my knees, beggin’ please,Countin’ sheep, no Zs, just disease,Woke up in this mess, no peace,Dreamt of freedom, but it’s all just tease. Warden’s screamin’, “Time’s up, son!”But I just sat down, just
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armor against the daggers of the world I have these beads, worn smooth, heavy with the weight of grief, prayer beads, perhaps, oiled by the endless rolling through sprocket teeth, like fingertips tracing the edges of a forgotten dream. They lie in wait, recoiled upon a black lacquered table, ready to take their place at
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I am a pillar of salt,frozen in place,looking back on a lifeI cannot retrace. Salt the ground beneath my feet,cast out for lack of taste,a barren void of withered seed,choked by ash and sinful waste. The heavens pour,mercy’s rain falls still—a gift for the righteousand sinners who will.Yet I dissolve, grain by grain,a quiet
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“In the beginning was the Word,” and boy, was it capitalized like it knew it was important! This Word isn’t just any word; it’s a symbol, a stand-in for everything from your coffee mug to your existential dread. Imagine, if you will, this Word was there before the thing it represents even existed. Like, did
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“With every breath, with every silent prayer, I embrace this fall, this existential dare.” In the depths of a void, where shadows stretch long, I speak to you, God, with a heart heavy with song. An emptiness vast, where no light dares to gleam, A place I’ve known before, a recurring dream. Rock bottom, they
BB Grey--musings 