The Latest Straight Outta' Denver

lost in moss (or what could be said) by Darth B'strad
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Life and lively (on the narrow path) by Darth B'strad
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driven or given (or what diffrence does it make?) by Darth B'strad
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Pain and gain (all but a toll) by Darth B'strad
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The weak and the peak (a need to see) by Darth B'strad
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Pranks or thanks (what I need to be telling myself) by Darth B'strad
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five to nine (or what is backwards in my mind) by Darth B'strad
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Him and her (no I’m not talking about a marriage– well, maybe a few of them) by Darth B'strad
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Nine to five (or what is standard) by Darth B'strad
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All enervated (Where are you, Oh fount) by Darth B'strad
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lost in moss (or what could be said)

Posted on September 2nd, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

Oh! have pity on this lowly sinner
that doth not have a hope
without a trace of a redeemer
who see no light within the pope.

We hath scattered amongst masses
and lost sight of our plight
with toil and grown we place pleases
so perhaps we might seek sight

But the wold is at loss
as long as we grown near
without a much grip we fear
of what has been made moss

As our hearts give pause
we hope we have not lost what gives cause.

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Life and lively (on the narrow path)

Posted on August 27th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

Arise! Oh soul of mine.
and find peace in his ways
that gives us peace in our days.
Let us make rhymes to the time!

This world is a mess!
It has chosen to seek malice
but while it is all at loss
for this crumbling palace
His ways are shown in righteous.

Let us show strength
In what is not forsaken
but let us not be religious
nor are we to be a sloth
for He has choose us to be given.

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driven or given (or what diffrence does it make?)

Posted on August 26th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

Pain makes life driven
it gives you reason to have pause
but yet it also gives your life a cause
something that must be ridden.
There is much that must be bidden
if you are to carry your cause,
and if you show pause
then there will be nothing given.

but don’t give into arrogance,
for dreams are dashed
when you ignore your drafting
there is only one way to the re-occurrence
in this path of the reenacted
in this story of the grate grafting.

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Pain and gain (all but a toll)

Posted on August 26th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

My words are but a passing memory
but His words last through all modernity.
My words will be blurry
but His words are of eternity.
I will only be a passing look
but He is the one that wrote the book.
I tried my best, but tried in vain,
and lost much to all the pain.
Oh, have mercy on this troll
for I have been a fool
who can’t find a way out of the pool.
The mountains I see are but a knoll
but I don’t have much will left–
let me hide in your cleft.

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The weak and the peak (a need to see)

Posted on August 26th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

You can look out and see much is gray.
Nothing is fully redeemed
nothing is fully demeaned
and I have nothing I can do but pray.
There are so many things saying nay,
but I wish to be recreated
with no trace of the dammed,
I can only ask that I don’t go astray.

I am quite weak
not really knowing what it is I seek
not capable of being

His ways lead up to the peak
and are shown through the meek
He is the one that is willing.

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Pranks or thanks (what I need to be telling myself)

Posted on August 26th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

While all in the grind and pitter
all things drag on with gloom
but one must fight the bitter
even as death chooses to loom.
One must find repentance
while there is still life to give.
For it is within penitence
that one finds life to live.
Do not allow your heart
to seek after trouble,
for in the makers art
there is no big bubble.
He has not made any pranks
if you will find the time to give thanks.

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five to nine (or what is backwards in my mind)

Posted on August 24th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

I hated myself for loving you
I had lost myself in the haze
It all seemed to be a plume
all at lost in a maze.
Could it have been a crook
who had given me this book?
I stayed up all night
seeing what if I had any fight
but there just wasn’t any left
and it was all just cleft.
That was all just a mess
and I just couldn’t make sense
of what was just a penance
that I had manufactured as less.
But of all that we have made
it will seem seem to our tongs like mead.

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Him and her (no I’m not talking about a marriage– well, maybe a few of them)

Posted on August 24th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

Hold yourself still and do not move
let these things take hold and pose no fight
within these words is the grove
that will made known to man and show the plight.

She flings her sword with great skill of her might
but He will not challenge you with temptation,
she will use what is right to be burred too bright
but He will use what is right to grow elation.

His glory is shown in spite of all earthy dominion
her ways is to use nations for her molesting
His plots are for the delighted who lost preoccupation
her thoughts are with they who bring capitalizing.

His ways are of the sacred
His ways will be remembered.

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Nine to five (or what is standard)

Posted on August 23rd, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

They all wake for the morning drive–
having no sense of what will give them reason.
They keep living in days with the same recreation,
the same why in which they have clung to their pride.

They all put in the same grind–
a nine to five daily reaction,
putting all their hope in that same re-occurrence
only keeping in that same drive.

What is it that keeps me on track–
while I watch them all sitting around getting fat,
not caring for that which makes them painted.
But I can see all of the blood dripping in the cracks
as all of them gather around just like cats
to see if they can yet get a taste of all that’s been disjointed.

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All enervated (Where are you, Oh fount)

Posted on August 23rd, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Poetry.

I seek a fount
of everlasting waters
and never ceasing abundance.
I seek a place
for my soul to be filled,
for the holy to be seen.
I seek the joy
that you can not see with eyes
but that you must search out for.
I long for a sonnet
that will lift every heart
and give that what is needed,
give us our daily bread–
give us our songs of worship.
For in a world that is broken
all have been lost
out in the woods we wander
asking if we will ever see the light again.
We live in a place that has nothing left to offer
except pain and death.
I am enervated,
I have little strength left in me
but there is much in you.
Lend me you will
so that I can see
so that I can give once again.
I have so little left
but there is still much left in you.

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