It eats to the core; it devours the shell that it lives in. Gossip is a murderer, a killer, an enemy. Swooping in, unannounced, it steals the innocence; its victims.
Draining the life of its users; gossip wins on both ends. It grows when used, and mocks the life of all; a destroyer that answers the call.
Gossiping is similar to washing your face with the same towel you’ve cleaned the toilet with. Germs around the toilet are to be done away with, cleaned and sanitized.
Gossiping is like taking bacteria and spreading it on
everyone that you’ve come into contact with.
Rumors; hearsay, slander; let them die never to
surface again. Kill the strain; be the antibiotic,
stop spreading germs, it’s psychotic.
At an angle,
from a corner,
in a box,
a separate city and
different zip code;
may be, love at a distance; even your baby.
In a hospital bed,
in a house,
in a closet,
a separate room and
Heal from a distance or
it will drive you crazy.
Lord, you are so dear to me, you have loved me through the years.
Each time I stray, you search for me, you ask why have I run from thee.
You place my sin behind you and tell me, I am loved.
You pressed and squeezed me with your Potter’s glove.
I understand that you continually cleanse me, and only want me to follow you.
You even chase me, to show me that you’re true. I don’t know what
gets into me and causes me to buck, when I stray, I get severely stuck.
Lord, you are so dear to me, and I have treated you poorly. I have taken
advantage of your Son’s glory. I confess I have run after trash. Today, I
will stay within the borders, the parameters, you have set in order.
I understand that you continually cleanse me, to make me fit for your use. I pray
that you continually come get me when I get loose. I fall not because
I want to, but I walk sometimes in the enemies shoes. Forgive me for
my rebellion, I hope that I’m praying within the parameter.
Raw and rich, it’s amazing. Pure and sweet, it’s a dream.
High and low, it’s charming. Deep and shallow, it’s alarming.
A realness that opens the innermost truths, it says something about you.
Natural and calm, it’s fresh. Humble and thankful, it’s a gift.
Quiet and peaceful, it’s sober. Royal and regal, it’s meaningful.
A powerful truth that displays, good, bad and in between, they are all a team.
Ugly and clean, it’s nice. Beautiful and dirty it’s mean.
Nice and kind, it’s divine. Mean and snobbish, it’s vomit.
An energy that’s a statement of truth, all this is in the basement of you.
A life with norms, ugly is beauty in a storm.
A stroke of ink is nice, and it is tempting. It gives you all the reasons for living. The ink determines your name, your age, your birth, your death, and your weight. It eludes your state of being, but reveals your heart’s meaning. The ink is bold and daring. It takes you places that are scary. Helping to stabilize you, ink does its job, because your mind it robs.
The pen holds the ink tight and steady. The pen dishes the ink out when it is ready. Keeping track of its moments of truth, the pen does what it wants to. It releases jumbled jargon, letters and phrases, the pen dances in phases. Hopping, running, zigzagging and jumping, perfection is its dumping. The pen tiptoes and drops colorful messes, it never hides or keep you guessing.
A sheet of paper is pure and has a clean space. It was created for display. It is a platform of beauty, and a canvas with a view, paper invites you. It is a mirror that reflects the bottom of your heart, paper pulls all the damage out of the deepest parts. Shaking out your strength and squeezing wisdom out of your mind, paper helps you live and keep hope alive.
Intense sometimes with a mighty aggression
Longing for a strong intercession
Deep within, powerful emotions, desire, devotion
Keen, witty, starving for more…
Urgent, erratic, sometimes deathly tragic
Griping, protesting and seeking revenge
Ecstatic, happy and smiling
Hungry, tired, weak and growling…
No limits, no reasoning, and no truths
Some arguing, some fighting, and some news
No time, no understanding, and no facts
Some chaos, some anarchy, and some packs…
The heart pants and grieves for what it wants
The eye dreams and sees what it wants
The ear is in tune and hears what it wants
The Mind of Passion always haunts!
It’s beautiful, delicate, and sweet; sometimes deceitful, but always a treat. Can keep you guessing, also sometimes it’s messy. It loves to help, master a plan or dissolve and disband. It’s full of ideas, and looks to the future; it may get ahead of you.
They are a pair, and if it wasn’t for the large amount of matter between them they would be identical. They stretch the farthest when there’s a noise. They’re counted on to make a sound choice. They must decide what to take in and what to let go. Sometimes they get clogged and at other times they may ache. One thing for sure they must stay awake. Up close or at a distance they have no resistance.
A symbol, a movement, life and foolishness; brave and staggering; it may even be flattering. Takes you places you have never been, and brings you back to ask “What happened?” Can be innocent, but yet harsh; cold and soft. Loving, tender and kind, it’s a loaded life line. It understands, creates and beats, but it must be cleaned out, restored and at peace.
Something in my soul is elevating me to the house of the Lord. It has wrapped my soul around its hand, and is pulling me in a strong and hurried way. I can’t break it my flesh is fighting and screaming, “LET ME GO, I’M NOT THROUGH YET.”
This thing, so strong and loving, pulls harder saying, “I WON’T LET YOU GO, YOU BELONG TO ME. NOW STRAIGHTEN UP, AND LOOK TO THE FUTURE. I HAVE PLANS FOR YOU AND THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL.”
Something in my soul is raising me to have faith. It has wrapped my beliefs in its own, and has taken over in my soul. Buckets of faith fill me here and there, they fashion my mind to understand and not be scared. The power that this something has deposited in me, takes over and scares the enemy. It’s pleasant, relaxed and confident, it’s making me want to hold on to it. The light is stunning and pure, I’m being molded by it for sure.
Something in my soul is teaching me righteousness. It has wrapped my sins daily, in forgiveness. It washes my soul then claims me. Infusing truth and righteous living, it oozes into my nerve endings. Creating in me a foundation of hope and obedience, the thing to do is be courteous. It’s all a process; prepared, cleansed and dressed. Meticulously building my soul, similar to an architect, the very best is what this something wants.
Something in my soul is talking to me in prayer. It has wrapped my thoughts into its own heart. Creating in my soul a path to commune, it took the lead and made room. Concerned about me, spending time with me and helping me; this something really loves me. Doing its job with grace, ease and strength, giving way for me to repent. The best at what it does, and it keeps on giving, and it’s winning. The crevices of my soul it fills, I can’t hardly keep still. Brought out of the dirt and made new, you are mine, I CLAIM YOU!
It cleanses away dirt, some bacteria and grime, it even dissolves grease multiple drops at a time. Steaming hot, it shoots from the spout, it can burn flesh to the bone, ouch. Hot water is used to make coffee and tea.
Suds, fragrance and squeaky clean; different aromas and it also has sheen. Slippery bubbles and colorful bars, shapes and sizes ,some like the moon and the stars. It helps to wash away filth and odor, soap has power, it’s the motor.
Put them together to; wash, steam and make things clean. Together they rid the smells and tackle hygiene. Hot water and soap, it’s used to clean the skin, but even together they can’t wash away our sin.