Innocence

Something I learned through writing school is a very important key to life. At least I think it is. Just because you don't understand something, doesn't make it stupid or worthless. Poetry is definately that way. Literature classes are full of speculation to what the author was trying to say in his/her story or poem. I have always found the Bible to be an amazing book for many reasons: one, being that it is perfect (I have tried to find errors, but can't (neither has any pip-squeak professor), and though there are many other reasons I can say, this other reason will be sufficient to help you to understand what I really wanted to say in the first place. The other reason the Bible is simply amazing to me is because we have the author of it to explain every detail if we would just go to him, study the words he gave us, and trust Him for the truth of it in utter perfection.

The benefit you have to this blog is that some poems may cause you to scratch your head, but you have the creator of the writings right here if you need me.

In this case, I will give you the poem today, and then tomorrow I will try to explain what was going through my pee-sized head when I wrote it. Please don't look at this as the only way it can be interpreted. As a writer, this can be just as much of a hinderance as a benefit. Please don't make that statement to be true. I know this is not a poem about God, but something about it always makes me smile.
Please enjoy...


Innocence

You, soarin’
in the yard
on my swing,
flyin’ away
ripping in-
to a pile of
yellow and
reds. Your
blank eyes
soar broad,
faintly in
the clouds
and back in
view again.
Stop flyin’
on my swing-
it’s my turn
to shatter
this sound
barrier. Do
you see the
changes in
the sky? I am
twinkling
now under a
star as it’s
flashed in
as I squint,
throwing a
blackness
to the back
of my brain,
forcing me
to reach in-
to deas it’s
flashed in
as I squint,
throwing a
blackness
to the back
of my brain,
forcing me
to reach in-
to deep dry
grass as my
sight goes
dim, waking
up, lying on
this Earth,
flat with a
deafening
laugh thru
the ground.

Welcomed

This poem is for all those who have been in a church, and felt it was nicer going than coming. So many people boast of having a friendly assembly, but if everyone was like them, you would never know it. Props to those who actually try to show people that being a Christian should be evidenced in a friedly face, a smile, and a 'better than what the world can offer' type attitude. To those people who have been in church for years and still have the same 'who cares about you' attitude, may this poem be a warning of how annoying you are to other Christians. Please stop hurting the cause of Christ. Love Daniel:)

WELCOMED

I walk to the door
of your less-than-graceful assembly;
no greetings satisfy my ears;
only the stinging sound
of the nearby church bell in the corridor
as is smacks the sides of my brain
in a fluid left and right motion,
yelling for me to distance myself from the premises.
It’s screams open my pores,
howling through the fog
and the dripping
coming from the overhanging roof.
As I enter, eyes grimace for me to leave.
The organ flouts out a sound
of condescending discrimination.
The seat I take has scurrying lunatics
who file to the other side.
The tiny girl’s eyes grow big
as I plop down next to her mommy.
Shoulders turn away from me;
heads, from in front, glaze back
to see what has just intruded.
The usher walks to the opening of the pew,
stops and gestures
for me to take the packet from his hand,
never saying a word.
I open it and read:
Welcome to our friendly church…

Thanks taken

I wrote this poem yesterday, following the great food and time with Esther's family. I am so thankful for Esther. I love her very much. I have so much to be thankful, but I would be lying if I told you that I am as thankful as I should be.

As the Bible says in Romans 8:12, " Therefore, brethren, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live after the flesh," I know that if it were not for God, I would not have any blessings. If you read this verse as it comes down through the chapter, you would notice that God is dealing with men about how to live unto him, not through the flesh, but through the Spirit. With all Christ has done for us, we are in his debt. We shouldn't receive gifts from him, but he should receive offerings of praise through a heart of gratitude, knowing where we deserve to be, and that is in Hell. Were it not for his compassion, his mercy, his grace, his justice, his righteousness, I would have overlooked my sinful condition and neglected the God that died for me. Thank God for his longsuffering, and for the many opportunities I was given to hear the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, and I definately want to thank him for what he has done in saving me eternally.

This poem speaks of the neglect this country has for God. We have named the holiday
Thanksgiving, but how seldom do we even think of all God has done for us and all we have to be thankful for. Before Thanksgiving even comes, stores are gearing up for Christ-mass, streets are lined with messages of gifts and buying.

So many church organizations are spreading the message to "Keep Christ in Christmas." I don't hate people for celebrating Christmas, I just wish Christians, first of all, would stop following the path of the world and stop taking God out of Thanksgiving and especially out of their churches. How soon do we forget what God has done. Please don't simply celebrate a day. Remember to give God the glory and thanksgiving for all he has done. One day of giving thanks, just because it is the national holiday, can't suffice, but in all the things that you want to get done over these days, whether it be for the Thanksgiving day, or in preparations for Christ-mass, please remember to not take away the thanks that God deserves.

Please enjoy...

Daniel Pollard
Poetry
11/26/09

Thanks taken

Right after the time of family gathering
and sitting around the table,
stuffing ourselves till the memories
of ever having that grumbling feeling
are buried deep under a tundra
of mashed potatoes, and corn, and turkey,
separated by an hour of desserts
we say we eat just once a year,
but they’ll be back again in just a month.
We gather under the realm of thanks,
and remember all we have for that fleeting moment
while the turkey is roasting,
and the stomachs are reeling
at the thought of grandma’s pumpkin pie.
Something happens to our memories
as the day turns to moonlit crest.
Our thanks flees away into the swinging doors
with ‘that’s mine’ written all over it
in the season of asking for more
from a fat scotch-drowned impersonator.
Soon, lists are made of gifts we don’t deserve,
gifts we are so unthankful for
come through a season that has a droopy shade of red and green
with sprinkled snowflakes covering it.
We spread the streets with wooden soldiers
and forget the thanks before the past season dawns.
Each time the thanks gets shorter, and the eating gets more.
We forget the God that gave us plenty,
and set to the couch to watch the glory’s of men
paraded down broadway and punted from the endzone.
We forsake our thanks, and bring in a season of hope and cheer
with cursing and bitterness ringing in the holiday festivities.
We are so rich in bounty,
yet so quiet in our praise of the Almighty.
Something has drained our hearts of thanksgiving,
and giving it the title to be remembered but once a year.
If we, being so full, forget the One who gave,
feel no surprise when he retricts the blessings he has given.

My very 1st poem ever written about God

So this may not be the first poem I have ever written, but it is the very first poem I wrote about my Savior, thus making it the most important one to me.

I would say that I would have been about 15, heading home from NC on our church bus after a week at youth camp in New Manna Baptist Church.

I particularly remember having been hit hard by all the preaching and made many decisions this year. With all the excitement, and all the "I will give up that" and "I will not turn back this time" thoughts going on in past years, this trip brought about the desire to not give in to the sway of the world, and squelch all that I had made decisions about for God.

In another attempt to stand firm for God, I feared my life having already been so wasted, and at times very useless. I thought at times how easy it would be to stop trying to live for God, and that I might just as easily give up. After all, my problems are so much bigger than everybody else's. But if I don't give in to the world, and to all that has been drawing me in; and if I don't give up my life to just be another wasted piece of nothing on the world's map of human drivel, then I would have to take the hardest route of all and surrender to my God.

Looking back over these 10 or so years, my self-reliance, which has gotten me nowhere actually has been hard, but only when the desire to give up God for my own understanding starts to creep in. Sure, life can be a pain, but I have to admit that when I let God have his way, he always does a much better job than I ever can.

So here it is...
Hope you don't laugh at my attempt to say something worth while so hard that you cry


Giving Up

As my eyes opened this morning,
I rose to sorrow, fear, and failure.
For what cause do I go on,
And why do I care?
Then I looked to the future
And saw my life as nothing I could control anymore.
I no longer care
And at times I get distracted:
Doing wrong and hurting others and myself.
So I made a firm decision;
I’m giving up.
If trials come I will not fight or struggle.
Through the burden I won’t be dismayed.
I’m just not going to try.
So there, I give you what will please me.
Satisfaction soon and life will truly be lived to its fullest.
Days went by, trials came, and still my conscience served me well.
Til’ on my knees I fell and weeping I did pray,
LORD, I’m giving up
For without you life is in disarray.
Not trying, caring, serving,
For it hurts you as well as me,
So when I give up Lord,
I pray I give up life to thee.