Direct your eyes
to the skies
and see if you can find
the thin black line
where the Earth and heavens meet.
See the twinkle
of the sprinkled stars across the black expanse
as they dance their ballroom dance.
you will find
a familiar glow,
the lunar star stilling the show.
See the darker shades
as they begin to fade
from black to purple to a true sky blue.
Outlined in silver is shroud
of puffy white clouds
and if you didn’t know
that ribbon of light is called a rainbow.
A bow that appears after the rains
and what it contains
for every color imaginable.
Still touring the skies
with your eyes
see it glow yellow orange then red.
See the rays of light
divide the days from light
making the green stuff live
asking for nothing just wanting to give.
Now I ask you.
What could be more beautiful than this
that hovers over us?
Well I say nothing,
nothing but the almighty God that painted it.
To sum this up in one little phrase
That’s giving God his praise.
~Christopher Michael (1999)
This is poem marks the beginning of an era for me. I think this is the first poem I sat down and purposely consructed.
Her tears fall like rain forest
acres of flowers and flesh chopped down daily.
Her pedals poisoned by the pollution of perversion.
She blooms every color from beautiful black blossom to snow white lily.
From human to thing she's reduced.
Passes from pedophile to pervert she's recycled.
Her virginity can never be restored.
Planted in the whores din l
ike trash that missed the recycle bin,
she'd be safer in the center of a lions din.
God did it for Daniel I'm sure he'll do it again.
Imagine living life like a plastic bottle
then thrown away.
You amount to little more than trash on the side of the highway.
Look up from your low place as we celebrate Earthday,
you dread the next day
numb by birthday
no rest for you weary worn out
any day awake
or not high
is a bad day.
I wrote this in 2010 as an example of the direction I wanted my youth poets to go.