When I Look in the Mirror

When I look in the mirror, Lord do you see
The face of a man or the eyes of a beast?
The blood I have shed or the blood shed for me?
The internal war or an eternal peace?

When I look in the mirror, Lord do you see
A bride or a whore, a goat or a sheep?
A word from above can set captives free
I wait while you dance on the edge of the deep

I never shall fear while the Lord looks on me
For the eyes of my God are the lamps of my feet
I live in the dark but through you I see
The love and the light from eternity

[not sure when this turned into a poetry blog]

Lost and Lonely Girl

I may fall asleep
But I'll never change
I'll just dream a stor-y
Of an endless sage

Who held up the world
Though he pierced his hands
On the point-ed edge-es
Of its thorny lands

When he walked the waste
When he calmed the waves
All of nature list-ened
For it knew its place

When we shut our ears
When we closed our doors
He just brushed his shoes off
And he fed the poor

So we took his clothes
Beat his back with blows
'Till the flesh was strips and curls
And he paid the wage
Of his Father's rage
For his rare beloved pearl
As the blood flowed down
Not to gain a crown
But a lost and lonely girl
He hung like leaves
On a splintered tree
And died

I may fall apart
Tumble in the grave
Like a jigsaw puzzle
Being put away

You can fall from grace
You can fall in line
You can leave your family
Or get left behind

So we'll march with pride
And our heads held high
With our swords strapped to our belts
Stirring up like sheep
Waking up from sleep
As he calls us to himself
Though we might not know
How this all will go
We can follow no one else
When the call goes out
With a might shout
We will die, we'll die, we'll die, we'll die
We will die, we'll die, we'll die, we'll die

From the deepest grave
All our souls were saved
There is nowhere left to hide
Though the mountains fall
Under rocks we crawl
He will call us to His side
When the trumpet sounds
From the broken ground
We will fly, we'll fly we'll fly
We will fly, we'll fly we'll fly

With apologies to Connor

American Flag Blues

Looking for the blue sky, and boy, it's got me feeling blue
'Cause when I see that big flag I'm having trouble seeing through
It's blocking out the big sky and got me feeling that it's true
That this land don't belong to me and it don't belong to you

It's waving on the prairies, yeah they got it waving on the seas
It's stuck on bumper stickers and sewn onto the soldier's sleeve
It's air-brushed on the bombers with the lady liberty
And if you're on the wrong side they'll be the last thing that you see

When I see those red stripes I wonder how they didn't bleed
Wash onto the white bars, stain their perfect purity
The lady wipes her mouth off, smiles and says "It wasn't me"
Here's to the martyrs and civilians who have died to keep me free

Oh, my country 'tis of thee
Sweet land of liberty
Of thee I sing
Of thee I sing

Well let me tell you bout a country where everybody can be free
Where everybody's happy and everybody is at peace
Dressed in all the best clothes, lying by their family
Sleeping in a pine box where no prying eyes can see

(This is the way of an adulteress: she eats and wipes her mouth and says, “I have done no wrong")

Without Comment

Motherfucking Footsteps In The Motherfucking Sand

I'm actually completely okay with Footprints In The Sand. The only bad thing about it is the thing that's bad about any inspirational poem or verse or story or whatever: someone is going to hit you over the head with it when you're at your lowest. Because when you actually do feel abandoned, having some jackass bust this gem out makes you want to throttle them with a WWJD bracelet.

Remembering what it's like to actually have God turn His back on you is a lot more comforting for me than having my experiences marginalized by some trite quotation.

Anyway:



Does anyone else remember Phil Driscoll? Because he is a damn funky man.

Quickie

A re-drawing of an old comic. New comics on the way.

Modern Love

How I long for the days when what was tearing us apart was literally tearing us apart. Not that the Church back then didn't have its own divisions and whatnot, but now we fight just for the hell of it. 90% of the theological bitch-fests I've seen in my own denomination have been less about serious differences in doctrine and more about people liking the sound of their own voice.

And oh, how we love the sound of our own voices.

So Jennifer Knapp came out of the closet, and I'm not going to say anything about that except that I didn't know who she was before that, and I listened to some of her old music, and I like it. Especially "Kansas."

Also, she's touring with Derek Webb, who is my favorite flavor of ice cream: