Keys to the Kingdom

I've lived in places with cardboard walls,

 And yellow lines along cell block halls.

Once there was a time when there were keys in my pocket,

 Now precious to me as a lovers locket.

But it's my third time getting out of the pen,

 Is this the time I start collecting keys again?

Can I hope for a life with access and trust,

 Or will barred windows mark this try a bust,

Keys are just tiny little pieces of steel,

 Shaped to move a cryptic wheel.

But they mean that I have, and I can, and I do,

 I can hardly trust me, so why should you?

So many keys to homes, cars & jobs,

 But they're of no use to us homeless slobs.

Such a common item, there isn't much thought,

 Until everyone else has, and you have not.

It's a mountain to climb, a dream to achieve,

 But I can't do it myself, I need other to believe.

Sweet music would be keys jingling in my pocket,

 Life is a betrayed lover, and keys, its locket.

Maybe this time.... 

Bruised Teeth

I've chewed on this life a while,  I have bruised teeth to prove it. 

  With one long painful scar I've made, and my effort to remove it.

The double of my toils, shows the double of my lack,

  And the bills my life are charged with, seems an ever growing stack.

But I'm offered constant rescue, and I know that I'm in debt,

  The life preservers out there, and I know I've grabbed on, yet...

I'm still thrashing in the bedlam, because I cherish my own way.

  And who can teach a panicked soul, to rest and wait and pray.

I should really hold on tighter, to the rescuers belay,

  And drown panic with patience, and begin another day...

I Hope

I hope, I hope,  says the whining dope

  If I don't get my way, then get me a rope!

It seems hopes scope, is something that's free,

 To be utterly deifined, by something in me.

But hopes design, since mans first fall,

  Is that hope without Christ, has no hope at all.

Oceans of empty,  just an oath on an ache,

  To a selfish, greedy, lying, blinded soul on the take.

Hoping for what I want, never satisfied wanting,

  Or soothed the pang of the ghost that's haunting.

Hoping for what God wants, is a hope that can fulfill

  I hope I learn to open ears, shut mouth, and just sit still.

Fallen Haiku

Eve chose the apple

 Adam should have run away

Man I hate raking

An Honest Beating

Thieves keep taking

  Cheaters keep cheating,

It the honest one

  Who takes the beating.

But, ah here's the rub

  It's the proud mans snub,

To think he is better

  When he's really a grub.

Yes, I am guilty of pride

  I am the one who has lied,

A betrayers betrayal

  On the front and the side.

So how do I stop

  And come out on top,

When the seeds of my trespass

  Sow a bumper crop.

What I could be giving,

  Christ life in me living.

Peace dreams possibility...