destined

Dear Daddy,

this man stands 

in my heart,

in my veins,

consumes much

room in my brain

by rain or shine

as the he 

you’ll always say

is the way for me.

Your Stir:

he + He + her.

her is the me

that cannot flee.

these emotions 

are bigger, 

because you 

are the hue

that’s true

and the Creator.

I surrendered and released everything that displeased me. How this man, your son walked, and talked the past two years brought many tears to gear me to see this man permanently flees with the enemy in misery; because of the bondages of fear that death gripped him as a paralyzed hostage. Currently this man, stands in quicksand covered from a woman, in a finished story. All for Your Glory God. This woman was always meant to be this man’s sixth dip in the Jordan River. 

Send Your Power O’ God. 

Thank you God for the covering 

of this man’s anointing dome

he dwells in as you God 

lovingly walk him through the 

talk of the slums of his sins

in such love and sensitivity 

to his hesitancy. 

This pitfall was called to be conquered 

by faithfully surrendering in tender

all to be Your See Godly. 

Thank you God for making it impossible for this woman, to penetrate the connected and protected dome of this man’s covering. The current legal scene, and all acquired meals, sexual seals, traveling deals, and wrong weed seed reels still didn’t make the calculated cheap thrills remove the benediction of the Holy Trinity in the doctoral divinity this man is called to be. The darkness this woman is paralyzed by cannot touch this man, after all this time God says this man is mine. No amount of rewind in time, goofy, or silliness will ever take the sting of the rings that woman will always be as a legalized hit it and quit it misfit. 

this man stands 

in my heart,

in my veins,

consumes much

room in my brain

by rain or shine

as the he 

you’ll always say

is the way for me.

Your Stir:

he + He + her.

her is the me

that cannot flee.

these emotions 

are bigger, 

because you 

are the hue

that’s true

and the Creator.

It was very challenging to see a Christian community: full of the vulgarity of popularity, accumulate a failed duplicate of strands, that stand only in His Kingdom Band as Three Strands. Not the wrong hue of two worldly savage two strand quicksand mix drink beverage.

“Two are better than one; 

because they have a 

good reward for their labour. 

For if they fall, 

the one will lift up his fellow

but woe to him that 

is alone when he falleth; 

for he hath not another 

to help him up. 

Again, if two lie together, 

then they have heat: 

but how can one 

be warm alone? 

And if one prevail 

against him, 

two shall withstand him; 

and a threefold cord 

is not quickly broken.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭4:9-12‬ ‭KJV‬‬

This woman didn’t think highly of this man from the start. This man was a means to an end for her perspective of pretend. This woman felt owned a big reward, and zeroed in on this man at the right time, to leverage a stay in his space no matter what this woman faced, or what was at stake, his vulnerability was the key to never leaving the place she fought hard to dwell in. Before the sixth month of the year two thousand fifteen, this man kept this woman at arms length: when he was in a space of clarity. This woman took advantage of this man’s distracting stress of thinking and sinking loneliness. This man had no time to be still, and slipped into a worldly four month whirlwind that landed at an altar, this man now sees as his down fall to this toxicity. 

Send Your Power O’ God. 

Thank you God for the covering 

of this man’s anointing dome

he dwells in as you God 

lovingly walk him through the 

talk of the slums of his sins

in such love and sensitivity 

to his hesitancy. 

This pitfall was called to be conquered 

by faithfully surrendering in tender

all to be Your See Godly. 

This man was held to no godly accountability, in a community that truly didn’t want to lose his deep pockets, so the space of ungodly disgrace turned a blind eye to this man’s pride and lies he hides inside. Even though, all this man truly wanted was to grow in God. So many humans that don’t belong in this man’s space, were at the time in his ears playing god, on how this man should walk now. 

The talk was pressing play in the decay of pretend, when this man truly wanted godly guidance and biblical alliance. Like me, he secretly wanted to be set free but desperately needed tangibility. Tangibility is actually stagnancy, and absently sleepwalking as a conformed broken societal norm: in the world boldly not coldly. Culturally this man stands in a community full of lukewarm Christianity in a division with no unity that caused this man to flee with the enemy, and current legal company in quicksand. 

Daddy it was hard for me to be blocked from helping this man. God you showed me this storm the moment I laid eyes on him, the tenth month of the year two thousand thirteen, which is far before this woman ever meet or weaseled herself in his space as the broken ungodly disgrace. In the tenth month of the year two thousand thirteen, you told me Daddy that you had a plan for this rushing whirlwind quicksand your son was destined to land in. 

Regardless of keeping me informed, it was still disheartening to see this was the only way, for this man to be reborn and set free biblically. This woman was always destined, and designed to be this man’s sixth dip in the Jordan River: to never look back at the world, by the circumstances of this hissed dissed poisonous legalized kiss of death. This woman who’s truly bitter he’s no longer in the same space of stench wrenching deface. This woman refuses to leave. This woman chooses to deliberately bleed in broken need. You have this man, that woman, and the deceitful humans in his space. Thank you for moving and working. In Jesus name, I pray today amen.

Send Your Power O’ God. 

Thank you God for the covering 

of this man’s anointing dome

he dwells in as you God 

lovingly walk him through the 

talk of the slums of his sins

in such love and sensitivity 

to his hesitancy. 

This pitfall was called to be conquered 

by faithfully surrendering in tender

all to be Your See Godly. 

Thank you King 

for having the final say.

Every knee shall bow

and every tongue shall confess

that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Thank you Jesus.

“That at the name of Jesus 

every knee should bow, 

of things in heaven, 

and things in earth, 

and things under the earth;”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2:10‬ ‭KJV‬‬

I love you King.

Love your daughter.

J

J doesn’t know 

how to choose healthy 

All she sees is the space 

to race for wealthy 

What does healthy look like?

All J sees is vitals that spike

J hikes to fight 

for the limelight

J won’t grow or 

go in this toxic show

There’s a thirty second delay

in the decay of yesterday 

with the kool-aid kids 

that are walking a broken

token talking in an ugly

backwards hat spat

by the mystified lie

misfit legalized-lusting

dusting and combusting in

radiation hesitation dedication 

as a wildfire rusting

in 131 worldly winds

as wrong she’s kinetic tailspins

shows the sinning in no winning 

J doesn’t know 

how to choose healthy 

All she sees is the space 

to race for wealthy 

What does healthy look like?

All J sees is vitals that spike

J hikes to fight 

for the limelight

J won’t grow or 

go in this toxic show

J picks up the chaotic hiccups

in the any day now shake ups

no one will make up

many will break up

two strand marriages 

will always be 

wrong hue quicksand savages

J sees the fast track 

of wrong she  

wedding rings sting attacks

with this he who will always see

being mr. & mrs. empty 

is a legalized-lust lie

& not meant to be 

His Fly

wrong she’s not 

the fiscal jackpot

or this he’s physical hot, 

just the mrs. pending boycott  

because this he mentally flew

this he sees God isn’t in 

this 131 matrimonial sin

131 matrimonial sin 

will never 

be better

together 

or winning 

J sees this he needed 

to walk the talk 

of his ugly

money was 

this he’s drugged honey

this he’s west was a detest 

of bloody, clumsy, and rusty

this he came 

to gain fiscal fame

in vain with growing pain 

hiding the lies 

deep inside 

of shame, 

lame,

same day, 

different way,

pitfalls of delays,

and benchmark dismays 

this he meets

the east in a she

that this he didn’t foresee 

a she that God says is me

was never apart of the plan 

this he believes in 

tangible sins 

is the key to fiscal wins

only God,

not this he’s 

current facades in flesh, 

with no confess 

just 131 distress in 

this wrong she mess

Only God is this he’s linchpin

J doesn’t know 

how to choose healthy 

All she sees is the space 

to race for wealthy 

What does healthy look like?

All J sees is vitals that spike

J hikes to fight 

for the limelight

J won’t grow or 

go in this toxic show

Neither will this he,

who God says is for me

as a she who no longer 

is stronger in flee 

Now decides 

to eject the reject lies

to be revived from 

consistent persistent dies

hidden behind the lines 

of smiles and lifestyles 

east is she and me: the yin

west is this he: the yang 

131 is designed to align 

this west and east 

in this season reasoned 

God- Ordained Boomerang

will always lead this he

to be His Stir in

he + He + her

three strands

will always be

His Kingdom Band

J sees unhealthy

this he is wealthy 

both choke 

in an evoke of 

worldly provoke stealthy 

coldly not boldly 

extremely lonely 

their confetti 

never replaced the space 

or disgrace of empty 

only God can clear 

the decay to make the way

of the gift in the switch 

in today from yesterday 

so they both need to let go

of the hallow swallow 

in sorrow of no tomorrow 

by the wrong seed 

weed toxic show

of saying no 

to finally glow and grow 

In God’s Kowtow

Respect & Let Go(d.)

God will always be 

Bigger in this

sinning no winning 

multiple gunshot trigger(s)

choose to lose the ruse

of fearful refuse 

and defuse the muse 

by grabbing His Gills

in Being Still 

to break the stake 

in fake to take 

His Key

and be set free, finally 

Addiction(s)

Flesh is the greatest addiction

that blocks the forward clock

of His Convictions

Flesh is the greatest scale 

that kisses the hiss 

in the poisonous diss 

to make the stake in fake 

prevail to be with the enemy 

Flesh is chaotic,

robotic and toxic

that makes man stand

in cyanotic quicksand 

Flesh is the cheap thrills

that blocks the forward clock 

for man to be still 

confetti will never be better 

together or ever replace 

the space of empty 

wrong she concealed 

in a pale scale 

that temporarily prevailed

as mrs. flesh distressing miasma 

to this he’s plasma

as a stanza story 

wrong she forgotten 

lust can’t be 

the godly see boughten 

wrong she is this he’s stanza story

designed to align 

this he for His Glory

Flesh is the greatest addiction 

that blocks the forward clock

of His Convictions

Flesh is the greatest scale 

that kisses the hiss 

in the poisonous diss

to make the stake in fake 

prevail to be with the enemy 

Flesh is chaotic,

robotic and toxic

that makes man stand

in cyanotic quicksand

these wrong hues

were never true 

no matter what the two execute

like the 131 diluted salute 

Flesh is a suffocating mess

that hides the lies 

of frustrating distress 

in captivating yet calculating 

professions to silence 

His alliance confessions 

repentance is acceptance 

in His Kingdom Band

to withstand the enemy

to be fleeing in quicksand confetti 

quicksand confetti is unhealthy 

like fattening life sucking cappelletti

sounds fancy but truly nasty

like flesh kinetic in thresh 

and 131 wrong wedding rings 

that sting and will forever 

be the lust to combust

in radiated rust 

only God transports the abort 

of a flesh stone & dry bones 

to all things New 

for He will always be True

The Holy Bible 

is biblical and protective Proof

to hawk the sleepwalking

talking and walking in aloof 

and be unapologetic aligned

to His Prophetic Designs

Flesh is a decay of yesterday 

to desire the wire to disobey

and fuse the ruse of refuse 

to abuse the rejecting neglecting 

like wrong she with this he

wrong she is a Jezebel 

that many knew to be true

but didn’t tell this he 

so many can see this he grim

dim, and trim to sink

in drinking drunkenness 

drugs was this wrong she’s plug 

to disengage this he 

from developmental age

in the 131 cancerous show

Flesh is the greatest addiction 

that blocks the forward clock

of His Convictions

Flesh is the greatest scale 

that kisses the hiss 

in the poisonous diss

to make the stake in fake 

prevail to be with the enemy 

Flesh is chaotic,

robotic and toxic

that makes man stand

in cyanotic quicksand

God is the assuage 

for this he to be set free 

and flee from this wrong she

singing was the ringing 

backstage gauge to feed 

the seed that’s a weed 

for this he to bleed in 131 assembly

with chaotic, and robotic need 

to only be lonely with wrong she 

Flesh will never be His See

God calls a rib to his ribcage 

not false prophets 

who make it hobbit 

or manipulations with stipulations 

like the forced source 131 operations 

God created the man in Genesis

then put him to sleep,

not pressed up 

in a hiccup 

by an aggressive creep

or lustful wrong drinking bows

that lead to flesh god allows

in the 131 hallow swallow

with wrong wedding rings 

that will continue to sting 

for he who findeth not she

Only God can set this he free

as man, we must be still 

to choose to lose flesh

to confess and be free from distress

and breathe with His Gills

Flesh will never be today

Flesh will always be 

a decay of yesterday 

the gift in the switch 

is called obey  

we are blessed 

with this prospect 

by neglecting and rejecting 

the addiction of flesh

Cloak

her is the me

for this he.

her heart is warm.

the heat in the beats, 

will never conform,

to this wrong she’s storm. 

her heart is near 

not far or apart

from her King,

that makes her stake

in fake break. 

to glow and grow, 

for her sake. 

her King is He  

& holds her key.

this he now sees

he is free: finally.

from this flesh meshed,

poisonous land of 

matrimonial quicksand. 

in this two strand hue,

that will never be: His True;

both this he, and wrong she 

walk a talk in a 

building with no 

godly wings, truly sting. 

BUT

not much as their 

wrong wedding rings.

131 was the enforced course, 

to transition the position,

of these two wrong hues: 

hit it and quit it; 

and an ungodly misfit.

supported when this 

should be a see of aborted

in a building 

with no godly wings.

these two were misguided, 

to hide their two ungodly hues,

in a flesh god facade 

legal matrimonial ungodly committee.

ungodly is sinning. 

sinning is not winning.

forced wedding rings,

will always sting &

will never be His See;  

or have godly winning wings.

these two wrong hues, is 

just a gritty sinning worldly ruse; 

with wrong she as a cheap creep, 

that took a multiple year 

calculated leap,

law of averages 

was wrong she’s savage 

this he is jar six.

this he is in dip six.

wrong she believed,

playing on this he’s fears,

would be a forever gear,

in a worldly crown,

disguised as the lie of godly,

coldly not boldly 

falling flat-face, 

in a space of planned disgrace. 

to the ground

on knees with lustful need.

wrong she believes,

and received the wrong bow.

this he could not see, and 

allowed suffocating 

by wrong she’s manipulating scree.

131 is a barren seed,

known as decaying

disobeying, dismaying, 

by delaying today weed.

diving in lies,

hiding well swelling inside,

off His Cliff 

to worldly drunkenness. 

wrong she’s mission, 

by this he’s omission permission, 

is to spread poisonous lead &

dread fire engine red sinning. 

this she thinks and sinks. 

this he winks and drinks.

wrong she’s intoxication

was this he’s deflation, 

and manly castration:  

whiff whiff 

drip drip 

sniff sniff 

drugs were wrong she’s plug. 

used as a ruse to abuse 

& clog a fog for this he,

to be confused; so wrong she 

can make moves.

in this he’s space 

to replace He.

wrong she doesn’t want He.

wrong she’s plan 

is worldly quicksand with this he.

wrong she didn’t want he,  

to be set free or see.

singing was wrong she’s cloak,

as a flesh god facade provoke.

this he’s growing pale scales prevailed: 

the sixth month of the year twenty-fifteen,

due to the hue that’s NOT true.

wrong she was happy.

wrong she paused His Cause.

slowly showing choking cunctation, 

BUT God is bigger 

than flesh god facades.

God says to this he,

who is for only me: evoke 

and walk the talk 

of what He Spoke. 

wrong she’s sage eyes 

were a falsely flesh isolated lie, 

in the strong wronged throng,

of this 131 poisonous song. 

wrong she’s fleshly 

confetti confessions 

will always be the see

of temporary recessions.

this he suggestions,  

in the ruse 

of this abused fused,

will never replace 

the space of this he’s 

empty fearful defuse disgrace.

even with this 131 assembly, 

wrong she never got godly entente.

he + He + her 

will always be God’s Stir. 

her is the me only for this he.

this is month twenty + one without me.

mystified aged lies, 

caged this he’s violent cries. 

workout mode was this he’s code, 

to post-traumatic internal eroded roads. 

131 is no longer stronger in fun.

the drone cloned 

still has lies that 

cannot die or hide inside. 

this wrong hue of two, 

will never be God’s True. 

the seven-aged difference 

was the fleshly staged inference,

in that night community,

that will never have godly unity.

131 is a locust focus. 

that was once fun;

but there’s NO godly sun.

131 is really a rewind 

find in time,

that presses play

in an ugly backwards hat 

of decay in yesterday. 

of a sorrow in no tomorrow 

hallow swallow.

take a bow & be undone son.

pause the cause 

of worldly credibility. 

it will never be better together, 

or His Destiny. 

wrong she’s singing is a cloak,

that is no longer is stronger, 

as wrong she’s choke 

to provoke 

this he to see or 

to reject the prospect of godly; 

and live combative 

and active in wrong she’s toxicity. 

131 is a worldly path, 

that will never be 

His Math or Craft.

this he will thrive 

and only be revived, 

to arrive and come alive: 

with His Hue of one flesh:

blue times two with me,

not wrong she. 

take a bow 

only God can allow: 

he + He + her. 

so let go of this 

cancerous 131 show. 

follow His Bow

give all in this 131 pitfall,

for His Refresh & Stir.

to achieve and receive: 

he + He + her 

be done with 131 son.

aimez vos côtes bleu 

Bamboo

Bamboo is a hue 

that God says is true.

From me to you.

I am the vessel 

used to cover you.

Bamboo is a prophetic 

holographic prism

to protect your reject

in the worldly prospect.

God will always 

protect you

through me

not the she

you see to be

in this fleshly flee.

this she will

never be better

or apart of your together.

this she is not true.

this she causes 

the pause of His All for you.

this she is the ruse

that fuses your refuses

and accelerates 

your drunkenness pitfalls.

this she is the wrong

throng song 

singing as the stinging hue 

in wrong rings you clung to.

this she will never 

be for you, 

this she is NOT your virtue,

because I am the blue hue

made just for you 

because you are blue too. 

this she is worldly prospects

that presses the play in 

disobey,

decay,

delay,

and dismay.

this she as worldly prospects 

was your sleepwalking 

talking in a worldly schism.

this she is a worldly schism.

this she is a fleshly prison. 

A worldly schism 

will never be His Prism,

it’s just the lust 

filled rusty combust

distrusting fleshly prison.

You(r) is the he 

that God says 

is for me,

she is not me

and never will be.

God never said go

in this he’s she show.

God said he + He + her

biblically found bound

from Above 

in His Sacred Dove

of the book of Genesis

to make His Stir

he + He + her.

I & me are the her 

in His Stir

he + He + her.

God says we

are better together 

in His Kingdom Band

interwoven as 

His Chosen

in three strands.

Cognoscenti in 

month twenty (+ one)

is a talk,

that was the choice

as the voice

to walk in this 

hiss and diss 

of your poisonous 

kiss with this she

that is not me, 

is just a pain 

with no gain 

and all in vain.

The tears in 

the years I’ve 

cried and lied

silently made me die.

God revived me

to thrive not 

just survive and see.

131 is the SOS 

to my progress.

Tangibly you 

did not see

it was me.

Or wanted it to be.

God supernaturally 

made us three.

How can that be

when you’re united 

in an expedited 

benighted quicksand. 

You should 

be evicted

from my heart 

you’re a part 

of a no unity

night community

in a building

with no godly wings

wearing rings that sting.

Stinging in the sin

you fight with no light 

to see as a win,

Sinning will never be winning.

Winning is only His Destiny.

The fourth month

of the two thousand 

fifteen response 

was my ensconce 

to grow in that no

away from your show

you were determined

to not let go of.

Love not lust

is found bound 

from Above,

but you see 

tangibly,

with this she 

that is not me. 

But God 

keeps saying 

your tangibility

is a facade 

of irascibility.

At first it hurt 

but God made 

your cheap lemonade

with this she

that doesn’t follow

God as His Renegade

made this confetti 

hurt have worth

this pain all had gain.

I’ve been set free

to finally see 

I’m loved, 

forgiven,

and His Chosen.

I’m at ease in peace

with what you do 

regardless if it’s His true.

God is what I choose to lose in.

Bamboo is your prophetic 

parabolic assignment

for your supernatural alignment; 

just like Harper 

was your sharper sign.

That your pitfalls 

are a vow to make you bow

and allow Him to 

take your stake in fake

and break you into new.

Both Bamboo and Harper 

were told boldly not coldly: 

Three years ago. 

Before this she

who is not me

drunkenly,

dragged you in 

this wrong hue

of two strands 

emotional blues.

Legalizing a lie

will never be 

what God decides.

That blue is

not what God has

for you.

Apart of me 

wants this strand three

but it’s like 

a bad joke

that feels 

like an ongoing 

choke and stroke 

because this she 

who’s not me

makes you look

like a hooked, line,

and sinker thinker 

now-sobering drinker bloke. 

This toxic,

chaotic,

and robotic 

fuse you pressed 

play in the decay

of yesterday in 

a ruse you clung to

stung and wrung me

to the core, where

I was on my knees

face down to the floor.

I didn’t know 

how else to grow

or what to do in

this pending cancerous show

you didn’t want to lose

your facade or 

stop the clock in playing god.

Since God’s truths 

didn’t match that

ugly backwards hat

that made you stagnant 

by this she as a maggot,

in this quicksand. 

Allow this show 

to cancel and 

for this quicksand 

to run its course.

Grab His saddlebag

and ride His Horse,

not your worldly 

version of jet lagged 

cheap thrills 

with this she

who’s not me

or for you.

Bamboo is a hue 

that God says is true.

From me to you.

I am the vessel 

used to cover you.

Bamboo is a prophetic 

holographic prism

to protect your reject

in the worldly prospect.

God will always protect you

through me

because I’m blue

and you are too. 

God makes all things new.

I’m new, so you will be too.

If God says 

you are bamboo 

then I say that too.

If God says 

you are Harper sharper

then I say that too.

If God says 

Trust me.

& Be Still.

Then I say that 

I too grab His Gills [with you.]

The foolishness of God

will never be a facade.

I say yes to the signs,

designed to biblically 

align us as three,

regardless of time

what I see,

or what you believe.

His Stir will always be: 

he + He + her.

They will always be 

better together in 

His Kingdom Band.

That’s how it was 

for the (wo)man 

and the man

in the beginning of time.

That’s the only way

to obey in the 

gift of today

for two flesh 

to become one.

Il n’y a pas d’amour 

perdu entre nous. 

Divine amour grandit. 

Aimez vos côtes bleu.

Mountain 

This he is my mountain.

I don’t want this mountain to be moved by a mustard seed of faith.

This he is my mountain.

The mountain that crushed my faith.

This he ignored what’s at stake. 

The mountain that bruised my love.

This he ignored His Dove.

The mountain that spat in his ugly hat at you God.

This he that chose his flesh god facade.

The mountain that turned a hit it and quit it to a legal legit.

This he that’s in a yesterday not today stance in his misfit dance.

The mountain that’s in a counterfeit transit, because he’s a selfish bandit.

This he that’s caged in a man made stage, just full of rage.

The mountain that created his flesh god facade that he walks his talk in now.

The mountain that keeps running in his drumming of never taking a bow.

The mountain that allows the hallow swallow to be his poisonous choice. 

The mountain that won’t press play in today to hear His Voice.

This he that won’t flee in the decay of yesterday.

This he is my mountain.

This he is not a fountain of youth.

This he is just a broken boy that abused truth.

This he is just a broken boy that played refuse and ruse Your Proof.

This he is my mountain.

I don’t want this mountain to be moved by a mistress seed of faith. 

I don’t want my heart to no longer be at stake.

All this he does is break and take.

All this he does is passively aggressively leave pale scales of failed hearts and a lot of ache.

This he is just a broken boy that rants in his pants.

This he is just a broken boy toy that makes fun of biblical ants.

Because of their size. 

This mountain thinks that’s a way to play hypnotize. 

Ants store and prepare.

Ants are very aware.

This he is just a broken boy walking through fogged unaware.

I am the she that is just a broken girl talking through clogged ears.

I am the she that is just a broken girl crying from hidden tears.

I am the she that is just a broken girl lying through my fears.

I am the she that’s a broken girl that doesn’t want to see I can no longer be in this sea.

I am the she that’s  a broken girl that cannot breathe.

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that cannot believe.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that doesn’t want to achieve.

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that wants to keep hiding what’s inside.

This he is my mountain. 

God you keep showing me it’s time to grow and be set free.

God you keep showing me he + He + her is Your Stir.

God I want a new he.

God a new he would see me.

I am the she that cannot believe that this mountain is a part of my path to correct math.

After all that went down in this frown crowned pitfall.

I am the she that is just a broken girl with so much rage.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that feels stuck in a cage.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that never wants to step on a stage.

Ever again.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that wants to play delay in pretend.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that wants to fade in a daze.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that feels crazed.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that moved with time but choose to press play in the stress of rewind in my mind.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that tries to replace the space of dying and empty with lying confetti.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that sees her King heals her stings. 

I am the she that is just a broken girl that needs her ready ring to stay on His Wing because that pain has gain.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that only believes in this He. 

I am the she that is just a broken girl that doesn’t want to receive the other he, in my equation. 

I am the she that’s scared of this he’s abilities over me.

I am the she that sees from this he and who he chooses to be, makes me want to flee in hesitation. 

I am the she that sees this he doesn’t want me. 

So let him be. 

It’s okay, today I say, the Obey in just You and Me. 

That’s my math.

That’s my path.

This is all according to me as she.

God will never be a facade.

He’s the He I freely believe.

God will never be cheap lemonade.

He’s the He I freely receive.

God will always be my fighting Renegade.

He’s the He I freely achieve.

God will always make me believe.

God will never hurt this she who is me. 

This he made the voice of man, lead his bleed in his wrong seed weed choice.

This he made man bigger than God.

This he pressed play in decaying fading lust.

This he is silently, and violently pouting in his sometimes shouting.

This he sees his now makes him want to take a bow.

This he hides behind his pride.

This he legalized a cheap thrill, and snuffed out His Breathing Gills.

This he deleted free, and played flee from God to choose the lose in this chaotic and robotic facade. 

This he deeply hurt me as this she who is me.

This he didn’t see my worth, and decided to lie, which made me as she who is me cry and die.

This he should not have what he didn’t want: my heart. 

This he is my mountain that doesn’t want the worth of she who is me. 

This he made me see he wanted to flee, when he stressed what he confessed to me.

So then let this he be, in his mess with muted diluted protests.

Because this he sees his legalized misfit is no longer stronger as a hit it and quit it.

So then let this he be crying out for help, and no one listens.

This he keeps being whimsical glisten to man, especially to his wrong she.

This he chooses to lose in a night no unity community. 

This he has a hard time with humility.

No one sees what this he needs except, who wanted to love and protect him.

This he decided to neglect, and reject me as his she. 

This he decided to neglect, and reject He to be grim, slim, and trim. 

No one sees this he needs to stop the bleed and Be Still. 

No one sees this he needs someone to throw him His Gills.

So the let this he believe the lies that make me cry and die on the inside.

According to me who is she, he doesn’t want me.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that’s tired, and wired from the sleep I avoid, so God and I can’t meet. 

I am the she that is just a broken girl, tired and wired from hearing this he is coming to me.

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that’s tried of stillness. 

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that doesn’t want to let go of my fear to fully love and forgive this he who belongs to me, no matter what I see. According to God.

According to me who is she, that’s a flesh god facade. 

According to me who is she, that’s a flesh god mirage. 

According to God, it’s year three and it’s still me who is she.

According to God, He makes all things new, so it’s going to be blue times two. 

According to God, this he’s neglect in his reject to she was God’s Protect for me.

I am the she that still sees the need to be set free from this he.

I am the see that still accepts this he’s neglect to protect me, because of the pause in his cause with his reject of me as she. 

This he started his fabels to choose man’s labels in the month of April. 

2015 was the year my fears started mr. mean, lean, glean featuring a very tired and wired ms. 17.

I am the she that decided to set myself free, after the April showers caused me to fall into this current pitfall. 

I am the she that sees this he doesn’t want my all. 

I am the she that’s also not God.

Neither is this he.

I am the she that’s no longer stronger in my facade.

Neither is this he.

I am the she that has to be still.

So does this he.

I am the she that no matter what I choose His Gills.

Eventually, so will this he.

I am the she that never wants any cheap thrills like this he willed as his forever be.

Eventually, this he will no longer flee from me as his she. 

I am the she that no matter what, fights to choose to lose in His See.

Eventually, so will this he.

I am the she that no matter what, I will never stop choosing God above all.

This he will learn to earn this space, will never replace the confetti of his empty.

Only God can set this he free, not his current wrong she and not his night no unity community.

I am the she that no matter what I say yes in my deep distress of this unknown pitfall. 

Eventually, this he will give his all to His Call.

I am the she that no matter what I choose God over any self-made facade.

I am the she that sees I’m a saint on many assignments. 

I am the she that believes I’m truly in His Alignment.

I am the she that received that I’m no longer in solitary confinement. 

I am the she that deeply loves He.

Eventually, so will this he will truly see and be set free.

Aimez vos côtes bleu.

Silence 

Silence is an alliance in 

defiance to the world

coldly muting boldly 

saluting as a scaled troop 

prevailing the lies of 

ailing ties to diluted loops 

pressing play in delay

forgoing today to 

be the dead lead 

seeing only yesterday 

words of affirmation 

is 

mans confirmation 

to be a ruse in

the refuse to obey 

rejecting the confess 

to the yes of today 

mans confirmation 

is flesh god penetration 

to feed the bleed 

of fables and labels 

titles are provocative tales

designed to make us 

combust to prevail in fail 

and delay

to say okay by

His Obey 

so the cries in dies

become louder and louder 

and dead in dread 

pressing play to 

the caressing stressing 

in yesterday 

peeling away the feeling 

from the healing to the

purpose of His Focus

but

popularity is the worldly reality 

it’s toxicity in the mockery 

of bereaved repercussions 

to missed mark of dark 

silent no spark discussions 

the fight by no light 

is a scaled galaxy 

from His Reality

faded lay in lust

rusting decay of His Delay

is truly a denial 

in these dark files

designed by His Trials

to show the true go of

no accountability attributes 

to dilute from maturity 

so press play 

to the faze with 

blind kool-aid isolation 

is a daze of hesitation 

flesh god facades 

are never going to be of God

instead it’s dead lead to gaze 

in worldly night community

rejecting His Unity

through pruning 

fine tuning humility 

so press play in

muting the penetration 

of God 

however 

silence is also guidance 

it’s His Grace

in our race 

words can be a disguise 

to hide the lies inside 

the prevention of His Intervention

to the hearing in the clearing 

God is a God of

prosperity in alignment of truth

not 

solitary in confinement of aloof

God is a God of 

Glory to glory 

not

the incorrect math 

of our flesh god path

only He writes

the light of Our Story

let Him take us 

from ashes to ashes

and dust to dust 

from aloof to 

His Proof

from cheap lemonade to 

His Renegade 

unsatisfactory silent extortion of lust

is the violent abortion of unjust 

radiated dedicated rust 

will never be the see 

in

ashes to ashes 

and dust to dust 

Only God is our Be

and will always set us free 

so decide to deny

the neglect to His Reject

and see the worldly rust 

once and for all 

press play to His Call

yet 

the fears in the tears 

of hidden years 

is the rage in the caged 

gauge of alienation

because 

the choice is still 

the suffocation of no Gills

lead to His Still

the choice is not His Voice 

the pause in His Cause 

plays the delays

madly in sadly 

Silence is an alliance 

in 

defiance to the world

coldly muting boldly 

saluting as a scaled troop 

prevailing the lies of 

ailing diluted loops 

pressing play in delay

forgoing today to 

be the dead lead 

see in yesterday 

Be Still choose

lose in free fall

by giving Him Your All

press play in the Obey 

of His Call

aimez vos côtes bleu

Poets Note: I was lead to this song by this artist. I never heard of him, before I landed on Sho Baraka. I’ve been replaying Words, 2006. I’ve discovered this artist in an unconventional way. I’ve also been avoiding writing a specific post, that will just wreck me; and it’s not poetry like this. I love writing poetry now, because I’ve allowed God through my submission, His complete access to my gift of words. This blog and how it’s ran, is all His doing. I fought God on this website too, before it finally went up almost three years ago. I put this blog up, when I finally mustered up the courage to leave my toxic relationship with my ex boyfriend. And four months later, I left the world completely behind 4.4.14, by surrendering my life to God. I never looked back since that day. 

There was no backsliding of buffeting this walk for me, because I came out the womb with full knowledge of this walk. God has been speaking to me the same way all of my life. I’m just now bold enough to no longer walk as the worlds cold conceptualize lie. If that makes me an outlaw for God? Then I say let’s go, my sword isn’t going anywhere. Not anymore. Speaking for the longest was so hard for me. Words paralyzed me, in a lot of ways, speaking now is still hard. I learned I had the gift to write through my hidden fears. It was the greatest hidden blessing to date. 

I realized I was being set up, for these moments I walk now. I fell in love with writing at the age of 12/13. That era for me was 1996. Originally I calculated being 12/13 for the year 2006. It’s interesting I made the connection my math was looped. This timeframe for me in real life stayed the same for 10 years. In 2006 I was 22/23. My twenties were very hard to walk through. Very hard, so it doesn’t surprise me that I reverted back to times of when I was 12/13. Speaking felt impossible for me in my early 20s. I always got so much anxiety. That is not a coincidence. 

I was always discouraged with my writing growing up, with those outside of my bloodlines. I had this theory, that family had to okay and support you, because genetic connections are similar. I realize being lead to this lyrical writer was bigger than me, and my suspicions of what the leading really means, is also bigger than me. I need healing, and releasing still. Writing will always be healing for me, as well as being a tool for God’s chosen.  

God you win. I say yes, and I’ll write the other piece too, because this piece called silence is bigger than me. This note is proof of that. Especially showing me no hint this was coming, which you don’t have to do God. But sometimes you do warn me about poetry pieces, and I got spoiled by that. You keep showing out God, go on and show out. Go on and keep blowing my mind, like you are at work and what’s coming on Monday, 10/31. I see you God. I just say yes to all these circumstances, that are truly bigger than me.

I’m tough but I’m not tougher than God. The last three months of this insanity called my life, drew me to an even higher intimacy with God. Reflecting back now!? I wouldn’t change anything. I would do the last three years all over again, if it meant I am in this space with God. And these glimmers of blueprints you keep showing me?! I’m with you God all the way, because I choose to obey. I say okay everyday and reject the neglect of yesterday, to push the discomfort of evolving in the solving of Your Today, by my Obey in you God. I’ll keep pushing through and choosing to fight for truth. I will always choose you God, no matter what the world tells me or throws at me. 

I rise higher and stronger because of you God. Keep sharpening my speed in worldly bleeding, because it’s truly healing and freeing. I love you forever my King. God loves you world, and so do I, because he teaches me to be a reach His way not mine. My unforgiving rewind is a bind that will never tie his correct math nor walk me to his path. So I reject the lending of pain to see Your Gain and allow all to fall in my hallow swallow. So trust your process, saints regardless of the setbacks; they will always lead to set ups. I pray for higher alignment for all beautiful souls on this planet God, especially those stuck in a reel of looped solitary confinement. In Jesus name I pray, amen. Love your sister Crysta.

Hero

her soul sets to sing 

You are her lifting wing

You hold her ready ring

You protect with reject 

her triggered sting

You taught her feet to dance 

In this paralyzing stance 

Your love strokes 

Painting analyzing actions 

In no waiting fleshly satisfactions 

her upward falling 

Is Your calling

her stomping to be free

Is Your prompting to be

he is ready to see

You are making all things new

The missing ingredients in their illustration

Is Your correction in their soulful demonstration 

You are always true

Three strands are he + You + her

You’ve halted her stir 

You taught her to rest

In her Cornerstone Best

You taught her to withstand 

The lack of linkage

In Your sanded land

You’ve halted her sinkage 

You’ve sparked her to rejuvenate

In Your Radiated Illuminate 

she wants to still in stay 

Gleaming in Your Protected Ray

You are enforcing truth

That rejects her aloof

With Your Streaming Proof 

her soul sets to sing 

You are her lifting wing

You hold the ready ring

You protect with reject 

her triggered sting

You taught her feet to dance 

In this paralyzing stance 

Your love strokes 

Painting analyzing actions 

In no waiting fleshly satisfactions 

her upward falling 

Is Your calling

In her stillness 

You are her Kinetic Williness

She doesn’t agree 

With her spiritual seeing 

he is becoming a revive being

her survive is all things new

Your Illustrations are always true 

Three strands are he + You + her

You’ve halted her stir 

Their level of frenzied flesh is zero

You are their interwoven Hero 

You are the linkage in their sinkage 

You elaborate on their sinful evaporate 

There’s Your Security 

In their pending purity 

You push them to trust Your Mystery

And halt the reel of the passing history 

her soul sets to sing 

You are her lifting wing

You hold the ready ring

You protect with reject 

her triggered sting

You taught her feet to dance 

In this paralyzing stance 

Your love strokes 

Painting analyzing actions 

In no waiting fleshly satisfactions 

her upward falling 

Is Your calling

she feeds the wrong

It feels safe 

That’s no longer her song

her heart is being chafe 

her multiple fears

Is surfacing after years 

Your Purpose is lovingly releasing

The tears of her displeasing

You block her desired cocoon 

It is no longer her go to strewn

she is Your Catapulted Butterfly 

she upward falls 

soaring in Your Sky

In her roaring resistance 

she’s Your Ready persistence 

You dismantled all walls

For three strands he + You + her

You’ve halted her stir 

Regardless of her stance 

she will waltz in Your Dance

Until you pass her to Your he

For three strands he + You + her 

To finally be

Creating what You’ve seen and always will see

he + You + her

Together they will stir

Poet’s Note: Dearest Constant One is beyond pushing me. I can’t stand it, but the risk of not being intimate with Him is a far more greater risk, than my discomfort. So He leads me to artistically project the stirring emotions that rise to my surface His way. Even my delusional theory of one day having my cloak of invisibility, is no longer working. Every single day, as I’m blessed to breathe, and choose my King, He shows me a different side of the daughter He’s painting me to be. Stroke by stroke.  Because I’d rather my King be my personal artist. He has purpose for everything. And my determination to chase Him will never slow down, no matter what. That’s a consistency I’m humbled with, and sit in great gratitude of possessing. So I will keep confessing His way. I’ll keep chasing His Rays. It’s the greatest adventure ever. Don’t take my word for it, take His hand and discover the gift of the uncover all for yourself. You won’t regret it. Blessings my fellow chosen. 

Ribcage 

she just wants to numb 

But he’s the beat to her drum

The heat that keeps her seat

she hides in pride satisfied 

He loves her mystified 

she stutters at her flutters 

her key is safe 

Hidden in its rightful place 

Until the time to link their chime

He says he’s coming

she’s just humming 

Harmonizing her rhyme to the rage 

But only he reveals her true gauge

she’s waiting for his stage 

The calling of her rib to her ribcage 

Only three strands connects His land 

he’s towering not cowering 

To His link that prevents his sink 

He molds the sand

He’s holding his hand

she just wants to numb 

But he’s the heat to her drum

she inhales he exhales 

she’s troubled he’s bubbled 

Tick tock tick tock 

The clock stopped 

Time popped 

It doesn’t click

There’s no stick

It doesn’t sting

There’s no string

Only three strands connect His land 

he’s passive in His massive 

He says he’s coming

she’s just humming 

she yearns to feed numbing 

But he’s the heat to her drumming 

There’s no more running 

No more sliding 

He’s pulling her out of hiding 

Only he can reveal her true gauge 

she’s waiting for his stage 

A calling of a rib to her ribcage

her key is ready to be free 

she waits for him to be 

The ribcage that’s one flesh to his rib 

Then he will see

Poet’s note: Such a discomforting journey, and I definitely avoided this piece. The longer I avoided, the more my peace was becoming shuffled. I’m the type of daughter to my King, that’s a brat. I am truly smitten by the love of my life. Yet this naked vulnerability is a tussle I go back and forth with my Constant One on. He taught me how to love myself, through showing me how He loves me. I can’t go back, and I won’t go back to who I used to be. I’m upward falling, and walking through a fire with Him ahead. My key is safe with Him, until He is ready to give it to the man He says gets it. I just keep dancing and growing with my King in the meantime; because the highs and lows, and through the sink or swim, I’m all in. He’s always going to be worth it to me. He is my prince of peace. He is my Lord of Lords. He made the light go on in my darkness. He takes my breath away. So I just say yes no matter what. I encourage you to just say yes no matter what as well. Blessings my fellow chosen.

Strands

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

Evenly yolked is godly love: Him, him, and her, the only way to find your rib. There’s no negotiating this truth. Any other union, in marriage does not have the Him, that makes this true, “he and she become one flesh.” Two strands of just him, and her that aren’t rooted in Him individually. God will never ever allow us, to become one flesh, with another human in a marriage, if we are not anchored to Him. Because that marriage, will become your god. It’s all over the bible, how God shows us, what He does when man has a self made god. 

Especially, shown in Daniel 3, involving Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. These three men refused to worship, a man made god. They were willing to die for our one true God, our Alpha and Omega. Outside of these three men, everyone around them were caught up in the worldly whirlwind of going ahead of God. Did God know this? Of course, He did. He’s God. And was God able to stop King Nebuchadnezzar? Absolutely, Abba is a jealous, and possessive God, but He’s also a deliberate genius, with unlimited amount of grace for us. 

When he is lead by He, he can be the appropriate head, of the household, as the book of Esther, hints in her undertones; of the man being the head of their wife. And how this biblical truth, is found in Esphesians 5. That blueprint, specifically breakdowns what our godly husbands need, to be the man He needs, and what we as their wife need to do. A rib is more than the protector, of their husbands heart; they are the chief encouraging officer, that keeps their partner in Christ chasing Him. As they co-run His purpose together as one flesh.

This preparation for both the man and the woman, starts before being lead to your godly marriage. A Lady in Waiting. It doesn’t start after that blessing happens. At least that’s not what God designed. For instance, when He created Adam and Eve, He specifically designed for us to be in unison, and fellowship as one accord. After Eve, ate the forbidden fruit, Adam was there the whole time. Silent. Passive. Operating as a thermometer, when God made Adam to be the thermostat. Setting the thermometer, instead of Adam falling for the worldly whirlwind, and getting swept up in the deceit of the highs and lows.

When the aftermath, of man going ahead of Him happened, after chapter 3 of Genesis, God asked where was Adam, and there was no mention of Eve. God is God, He knew where Adam was. That question wasn’t asked, based off of the literal sense. God was asking where was Adam spiritually. Adam was sleepwalking. Had Adam been alert, and spiritually sound, He would have been able to follow God’s lead, in covering Eve. The same way God, covered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, in Daniel 3. 

Dad, is always giving us examples, in love all throughout the bible, of how to walk like Him. How the sons of God through the sacrifice of the Son of Man, should be walking in their true purpose. Not caught up in distractions, because that’s what the enemy wants: the flesh in control, so that His purpose isn’t fulfilled. It’s interesting how we easily forget that God controls the enemy as well. 

He gave us so much grace, throughout our disobedient moments of the past, and continues to give us grace, through any current season that is not abiding in Him. That’s why the bible is just so amazing! That’s why He is so amazing! 

But when he is lead by one’s flesh then he leads himself in a direction without Him, like a marriage. That self-lead union doesn’t have the covering of God. Jesus said, what God puts together let no man separate, found in Matthew 19:6. What God ordains is sanctified, and armored with an unbreakable shield. God has to put a man and a woman together to receive that unbreakable strand. And God is very clear. Very very very clear. Plus God makes no mistakes. We make the mistakes. 

Specifically, when we go ahead of Him. Like Jonah did. We’ve all done it. I lost count, how many times I did this. Just because God, didn’t stop us, in those moments, from being swallowed up, like a Jonah season, there’s a reason, for the alliance of disobedience. It doesn’t mean He approved, of our deliberate disobedience. God allows us to walk, into our self-made pits, if it means that our heart, gets broken enough for wholehearted surrender. Ultimately, God allows all that ends up glorifying Him. Like allowing King Nebuchadnezzar, to worship an idol. God allowed that. Because He, was glorified in the end. King Nebuchadnezzar, became a believer, through the unwavering faith, of those three men. For when two or three gather together…. Matthew 18:20.

Only then will the burden break us enough, and evolve us from being deliberately disobedient to absurdly obedient to His spirit. You’ll know you’re at this place when you see that mans words, must be aligned with His voice. If it isn’t, then we must boldly dismiss man. Imagine if Abraham, the father of faith didn’t trust how God spoke to Him, where would we all be? Or what if Noah, and Moses ignored how He spoke to them, just because it went against everything and everyone around them? Those men kept themselves boldly HIGH in His vein, no matter what they saw or heard. No one understood these men or their callings. But they still trusted His voice, and followed Him. 

He talks to all of us, once you trust and accept how He speaks to you, then and only then you’ll be ready and unstoppable. Until then, it’s breaking time, because your heart is not broken enough. But when we go ahead of God, we aren’t covered by Him, just walking in our flesh, covered in those scales of lies, and confusion, that’s well disguised, and well orchestrated, on this pit stop called Earth. 

Just like God enters anyone, the enemy can as well. We must combat that worldly seduction, by denying our flesh by any means necessary. We must be boldly high in His vein. Our flesh that feels so good is the most catastrophic navigator. And that feel good execution of flesh has an expiration date. “Doing you,” in your flesh has an expiration date. 

God must be the third strand in your marriage. That is the only way that union will be unbreakable. But Abba, must also be the third strand in our friendships as well. Otherwise they’re not godly, or fruitful. Our flesh produces barren fruits, and barren fruits must be removed. Because they’re not of Him. All of our relationships must have a purpose that magnifies Him. For He only bears fruitful fruits. The Holy Spirit is a spirit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Galatians 5:22-23. Outside of the Holy Spirit we can do nothing of Him, or nothing without Him.

Prayer: May your children always walk in your discerning truth Dad. May they see their weakness as your opportunities to show how strong You are. As You will always go ahead of us as our protective shield, and as You did with those three absurdly obedient men in Daniel 3; when You appeared as the 4th man in the fire. May we always be challenged in our trails, to look at only You. May we always find our way back to You, when we stumble. And may You always make our mercies new every morning. We praise You Highest King, love always, Your Chosen. Amen.