Category: Sometimes I Rhyme

Lord, I don’t like this part of being human. Can you please take it away?
“Is it not enough to know, my child, that Jesus felt the same?
“No, I just can’t take it. I’m tearing them apart.
“Who?” Anyone who has a claim on this fallen, broken heart.
I have so many recent problems, so many grumblings in my soul
“Coming through the fire, love, is a way to make you whole.”
It sure doesn’t feel like fire. Just emotions and pure doubt.
It only seems to hurt him more when I let the feelings out.
I am so sick of crying, I have wet my bed with tears.
How is it that he must not stray, for dozens of coming years?
Why stay when the words from the mouth of his sweet, young bride
Make dangerous the path to share. Why anything but hide?
What benefit is it to him, to be assaulted by my words?
When from his lips he fast declares the thoughts themselves absurd?
How graceless I have been, oh Lord. How uncaring, unkind.
Why, it may be safe to say I am losing my mind.
The salt and water, sorrow comes, it seems most every night.
I clutch my pillow in despair, bemoan the loss of light.
How can I subject those I love to such terrible fate?
How can I, should I, must avoid instilling in him, hate?



Certain things are lost in the bustle of the planning
certain touches dropped
subtle shifting of the handing

certain thoughts are thought in the midst of ceremony
certain words get flopped
subtle feelings are so lonely

certain tears may fall when the tone seems uncaring
certainly hard to stop
subtle tempers get to flaring

certain eyes are lowered when burdens seem inherent
certain comments shock
subtle meaning no deterring

certain ways are bruised when the heavy comes to play
certain minds are rocked
subtle comments kept at bay


I open my eyes and he’s gone

Too startled to be upset

A fear touches me and i panic

unsure of exactly what happens next

I open my eyes and he’s gone

But a memory of what was just real

My core trembles quick

And i am scared to feel, to feel, to Feel.

I open my eyes and he’s gone

I return how i started, alone

And there’s no way he knows

What ways can i show

What absence does to my ozone.

The force

It’s as if you hum along,
and the force blindsides you, right?
Like, first there is no warning,
then bam! without a fight.

Or, you’re talking to a buddy
and they make a sly request
before you can even prepare
the force is on your chest.

Maybe when you’re arguing
you feel a certain tug
lo, behold, see that darn force
had gone and pulled the rug.

Perhaps you are out and about,
remember a lapsed task
and the force declares you must
amend, or face the wrath.

You’re munching, happy, on a meal,
feel the atmosphere change
the force had come and damned your fun
and you don’t even know its name.

The force is sneaky, yes indeed.
It leaves no calling card.
Only the truth that by abuse
your learning will be hard.

Can one understand the force?
Perhaps, with pointed looks.
In the now, we force the bow
and slyly cook the books.

He shows his strength
When he restrains
Harsh words that would replace my name.
When in his eyes
He swaps his fame
And gently seeks me once again.

He shows his strength
When he toils long
In work that keeps him far from home.
When in his hands
He holds a phone
And calls so I am not alone.

He shows his strength
When he thinks hard
To avoid sites previous scarred.
When in his mind
He flips a card
And offers balm to places marred.

He shows his strength
When he responds
To trouble in this obscure pond.
When in his mouth
He seals a bond
And vows never to abscond.

He shows his strength
When he pulls back
Ignores the sting in my attack.
When in his heart
He plays the track
And forgives with the grace I lack.

He shows his strength
When he plots through
All the things we’ve left to do.
When in his pot
He blends the stew
And ensures one and one is two.

He shows his strength
When he stomps out
Some trail a rabbit led about.
When in his boots
He forward scouts
And makes void every trace of doubt.

He shows his strength
When he bows low
To the God he affirms to know.
When in his soul
He bids love grow
And in surrender does strength show.


He loves me with the Truth. Through my foolishness. Even when I think he thinks, “Lord, why is she doing this?”

He loves me with the Truth. Though my tears may hurry down. He lets the salt soak through his sleeve and wraps his arms around.

He loves me with the Truth. And kindly tries to guide. He leads the way in discipline and holds me to his side.

He loves me with the Truth. And wishes for my peace. He lets the light into my mind when fears refuse to cease.

He loves me with the Truth. Teaches that God is best. He grips my hand, kisses my cheek, I press into his chest.

He loves me with the Truth. His praise makes me look away. He says, “Sweetheart, it‘s you”, this woman he portrays.

He loves me with the Truth. Though in God we abide. He wills to push me deeper, even more as his bride.

He loves me with the Truth. My cheeks always in bloom. I pray to love this great man well, my betrothed who’ll be my groom.

He loves me with the Truth. In time, we’ll learn more still. And drawing from the endless Well, we each shall drink our fill.

He loves me with the Truth. I love him back the same. I strive to hear in both their voice, contentment in my name.

He loves me with the Truth. The Truth that never shakes. It’s steady when we both are not. The Truth for both our sakes.

He loves me with the Truth. More Truth I want to see. I want the Truth to live in him. The Truth to live in me.

He loves me with the Truth. The best way to adore. And when we love with the Truth’s force, the world will see what for.

My goodness

My goodness, you are handsome
And your eyes make mine light up
Your face is mine to memorize
Your love is in my cup.
My goodness, you are charming
And your smile like no one else
Your words, they leave me speechless
Your voice makes my heart melt.
My goodness, you are loving
And your gifts cause me to blush
Your touch gives me the tingles
Your thoughts convey so much.
My goodness, you are funny
And your lines make my side ache
Your laugh gives me the giggles
Your jokes for both our sakes.
My goodness, you are gentle
And your handle ever soothing
Your approach oh so tender
Your verses wisely choosing.
My goodness, you are holy
And your leading just so straight
Your desire is to serve Him
Your goal to make Him great.
My goodness, you are diligent
And your ethic very strong
Your planning makes me smile
Your vision for us long.
My goodness, you are something
And you make or break the line
Your arms my home forever
Your heart is none but mine.


Understanding’s such a fickle thing
That, even with all facts declared
Sometimes stronger minds are still afloat
And none involved’s feelings are spared.

So long as you’ve stated facts
And logic’s on your side
Little matter how I feel
Go on, stroke your pride.

Defend your stance!
I mean, you’re right.
Surely, I see that clear.
Flit away
Your conscience free
Have a good one, my dear.

“I think your thoughts ridiculous
It really does astound
How a bright girl, so strong, so sweet
Can get SO turned around.

Sound thinking sure has failed you now
And time will muddle through
All the items I’ve no time for.
Ick. Somewhere in that puddle is you.”

Well, yes, that’s fair, I will accept
That tears come through unbid.
That even in my explaining
I feel like a foolish kid.

But I explain, and try to show
That my reality is not yours
And it hurts, it really scars
That they’re considered a chore.

I didn’t ask. You signed right up
Though signs before forebode
That a good cook, and laundress
Does not quite make a home.

Understanding’s such a fickle thing.
Words come until blue in the face
Sometimes the clock can work wonders
Sometimes time does not erase.

Understanding’s such a fickle thing
It delights in perplexing.
It blinds the keen with simple words
To show it’s muscle flexing.

Understanding’s such a fickle thing.
It woos with verses short
It invites, gently, sarcasm
As a ready, sharp retort.

Understanding’s such a fickle thing
Sometimes it’s never found
And when the fickle gets the nod
There is no common ground.

Understanding’s such a fickle thing.
A fickle, fickle master.
If you reach too hard to grasp
You never get what you’re after.

Understanding’s such a fickle thing.
It’s such a fickle thing.

The knife

Sometimes I think too much
Much too much about some things
In trying to weigh my words
And know what my motives bring.

And sometimes I dissect so hard
Sparing nothing from the scalpel
That each feeling has a dissertation
Not thorough? Hm. Doubtful.

And other times I let things go
Take the value of it’s face
And WHAM! I’m hit with a reality
Not knowing what’s at stake.

You see, sometimes, detailed is a curse
And yes, I know many things in this world are worse
But who can know the rocky-ness that uncertainty drags?
And who will shudder with me now when exact packs its bags?
And what is there to gather from a field awash in snow
When searching, when delving for clues, the response is, “You know.”
‘Not so,’ puffs breath in harshest air, confused on where to look
For unsure are the letters, sounds and meaning of the book.
‘Just yesterday I knew the name, the name this story holds.
Yet now I merely see the dregs as the tale slightly unfolds.’

Sometimes I get so tired
Of being so forthright
Of keeping most my thinks in check
And pining for the night.

Sometimes the things you seldom see
Fight the roughest war in me
And, boy, their struggle has a fee
Upside down thoughts in every tree.

Sometimes I feel so tired
And the tears come, ‘Steady. March.’
And I feel a deepened burning
In a softly burdened heart.

How now, you tell me by piecemeal
The changes you will like
And deftly you turn away
Once again, slide me the knife.

I have lots of feels
And these feels, let me tell you, these feels are for real(s)
They make me feel crazy, these fields full of feels
And they pull and they sway me, even bringing forth meals
And the feels are so ornery,
They struggle to win, til the feels spread their power they fester deep in
The feels give me sickness, and desire to sin
But I can’t let the feels feel the quiver within
Sometimes feels are easy
They pass like a breeze, or just a tickle from a phantom sneeze
And sometimes they strike me and throw me from trees
Their ears are sealed shut, ignoring my pleas
Damn the feels!
Damn them all! I’ve no cause to fall
Because the feels are so big and my heart is so small
And the world won’t stop spinning, won’t stop sending them here
Yet my eyes still stay open and me ears stretch to hear
All the words and emotions and meanings running wild
And soon I am cowered in a corner, a child
These feels make me pull back
Make me leave a cold space
Make me want to start over
Make me try to erase
But they’ve nowhere to go, they are trapped in my mind
And I can’t help but see them, they’re so apt to find
You know, at times, the feels stay away
I can go blissful hours, all passion at bay
And the over-stimulated, heart strings heave a sigh
And remember times past when the eyes could just lie
And the hands be held still
And the mouth in a line
And the mind ignores signs
While the pulse beats a drill
And the peace that comes ready when chaos is the norm
And each feel is shut, behind the door in its dorm
But along comes a ‘something’, and it yanks that alarm
And though there’s no fire, the panic’s the charm
There’s screaming and fighting and gnashing of teeth
There’s feels on the ceilings and feels underneath
And feels run the town, they’ve no fear of the law
The law preaches patience, the feels hold a saw
They wear on the RA, the poor tired soul
They war against order, cause tears in the whole
These feels break my re-solve
Make breathing a chore
They bow to no master, they honor no king
They walk about proudly, my heart in their cling
I have lots of feels, not many police
Only when they’re ready, is my mind released.
The feels wear me empty, they burden my spirit
Lo! If you’ve love, then don’t let me near it.