High on Jesus

I am a Jesus person. I love Jesus, yes I do. Why me? Why He decided to pluck me out of the pit of hell I can’t answer but He did. Once I hopped on the slippery slide of drugs and went spiraling down into darkness I slid to a point where I could no longer find myself…I lost all focus…shame and pain became my constant companions running me around in circles …delusional behavior was about to zap me right into the arms of the grim reaper. Then I met Jesus…yes that’s what I said…I met Jesus…a light to lead me away from self annihilation…a light to free my mind from an incarcerated state of being and to once again be filled with hopes and dreams…a light to fill my heart with peace and love…a light…a gift from the Father above…
Jesus is now my high. When I call on Him I can feel His power rising from the depths of my soul, transfusing my blood racing through my veins with joy, energizing my muscles, infusing my mind with peace as I soar through the heavens flying high with the angels reaching out to touch the sky knowing that all is well…like I said, Jesus is now my high.
I know that I know that I know that God is…and if you know that you know that you know that He isn’t then you’re right for you God does not exist and that’s alright. But as for me I’ve stood at the rim of the Grand Canyon looking down into its painted abyss while the walls shouted out to me “I am…that I am…that I am…I’ve sat at the foot of the snow covered Chugach Mountains in the Alaskan wilderness as floating flute like tones sang Thank You Lord and I basked in His wondrous glory…my heart rises and sets with the sun as it colors my essence with it’s fiery brilliance emanating hues of oranges and pinks and purples…yes like I said I’m crazy for Jesus!

Poverty Rocks Hard

The ratta tat tat of guns in the night...a fight...a fight to the death...in search of illusive respect. The conviction of the streets supersedes all cognition...all rationality...all  logic...it’s dog eat dog, tit for tat, disrespect me I’ll disrespect you right back. No space or place for politeness…kindness portrays weakness… that’s just the way it is. What’s there to do but live hard in the face of endless denial; laugh hard during the constant struggle; party hard to revitalize and make dry bones come to life.

Poverty rocks hard!

The music blasts…feet dance fast…hearts beat as blood rushes through the veins transporting surreal images of feigned happiness…another puff…that’s the stuff to die for…another puff…calms nerves...another puff supports muscles that inadvertently crave in evolving waves of dependency...another puff to the point of no return to any pretense of normalcy.

Poverty rocks hard!

The high is fleeting looking down into the neck of an empty bottle, ranting...raving...fixating on who took the last of the elixir...the fixer. Rage smothered by day to day survival spies out a rival...a beef erupts spewing volcanic emotions and repressed anger into the atmosphere mushrooming into a toxic waste laced with venom... a gun is fired...that eradicates all semblance of euphony and implodes into a rubble of broken dreams as a stream of blood oozes from the collapsed corpse.

Poverty rocks hard!

Sirens wail in the night. Violence devours innocence...sorrow then masticates the essence of life regurgitating hopelessness. Shame becomes ingrained into the psyche…anger lashes out slapping kindness into a condition of degeneration… masochism becomes entrapped in isolation …love and fury become enmeshed in confusion crippling empathy impeding the expansion and the maturation of the human spirit.

Poverty rocks hard!