Broken ceramics

I have faint memories of my mother
I remember her as a cup
How she always found a way to hold it all together, just before she leaks
Trickles of water falling beside her straight slender figure, ceramic
Till the day daddy pushed her from the table and she broke
Pieces of her piercing little me, till one little pointy mummy tore through my left eye

Now I half see.
Deformed, they think I am
But with what hands would you erase memories’ scars?
With what hands would you race memories cars?
The speed limit of the past experiences dangling in your face before you even make the obvious decision
Those past experiences
Become the obvious decisions and so

I still cannot resist slender girl
Especially when they comment on my eyes
The one blue pupil that’s always learning new ways to shatter ceramic;
Hearts.
My past, present
How I with my fingers have rewritten daddy’s story on many lives.
If they never let go of their past
I’ll always be present, right on time
Before their next decision.

I wonder
If mummy would be proud that the vengeance I sought for her has made me Potter many more ceramics;
Broken
From tables, broken tablets, broken tables of laws
I have become ten plagues walking and everyone wants to chase from Egypt till they drown in a pool of their own tears tricking when they are full.
Maybe we give too much power to all the hurts that have Moses’ed their ways into our lives, dear lions forget about your pride and let his people go!

Finance peace,
UN-till the ridges you’ve prepared to plant hate
Until its roots can’t take in your heart any room.
So that any room you enter.
You’ll leave memories of water. Washing clean from dirt smeared hands, hearts, spirits, bodies, minds. Ceramics.
Set this on your heart
And set the captives free from Egypt.

God has called you, now lead, and let his people go.

UC Truth
©2021

Keep moving

It’s deadly, It’s dangerous,
Was purely invented to endanger us,
It may not seem so now, but don’t forget,
It’s real,
And like a diabetic sore it doesn’t always heal,
A scary arrow we should beware of,
It’s a tranquilizer that takes years to wear off,
It keeps you there,
Trapped in illusions of self satisfaction,
Smeared with delusions so you shelf you actions,
It leaves you bare,
And freed from the hustle we all tread,

Your life becomes a repetition of hard lies,
You raised the stakes, laze, pride, your new allies,
Quick to gloat,
Mr Ambassador for past glory, enemy of growth,
You continue everyday in this same place,
“I’ll do it later” is your super phrase,
But you are in the race,
Moving on and nowhere with zero pace,

To Grace, you become yesterday’s testament,
Of shame, you adorn today’s garment,
Of Hope, you are tomorrow’s predicament,
Oh fool! when will ye be wise? Proverbs asks,
Baba doesn’t need a curriculum vitae to endorse us,
If not our sins would make a pretty bad CV,
So don’t hold back,

Take a step forward from where you are,
Take a swing upwards to raise the axe,
The laborers are few,
And that includes you,
Because the sharpest if abandoned becomes blunt,
And if you are useless another He’ll appoint,
Remember, It’s a race,
And you are not running if you remain at a point.

Erudite
© 2018