Heaven’s Tears

Seems extra appropriate after the latest school schooting.

Lord bemoans his forsaken Lambs
Long ago a brother killed a brother
Now our children carry on his legacy
Pain, destruction, deolation, revenge
These are the things Cain gave them

A civil war takes place in our streets
Brother against brother our Children fight
For the right to destroy themselves
They mock their mother’s crying heart
And mimic forgotten fathers lost

The rain falls as tears from above
Washing Abel’s blood from the street
Yet the dark legacy lives on still
In our children’s angry hearts
Where even Heaven’s host won’t tread

Their guardian angels stand by helplessly
As the children rage on against their advice
All of Heaven cries out for our children:
When will the bloody streets be cleansed?
When will Cain’s hidden war so end?

– Andrea J. Graham

December 1998

A Life Wasted

On a rope in Baghdad,
His lifeless body dangles
In the morning,
The butcher,
The defendant,
The rich and powerful President
Who slaughtered his own people
Was gone.

His unbridled quest for power,
Made wives widows,
He though he could hide His sin,
But the Lord God saw
And the horror of his crimes
Was made plain to the whole Earth.
Though, he lived as a king,
He died as any other criminal.

Take no joy in the death
Of the wicked,
For the Lord does not.
Look on that dangling corpse
And behold one created
In the Image of God
Who chose to become a devil.
Take up lamentation for Saddam:

For a life’s opportunity squandered,
For a soul destroyed.
Let it fill our hearts with dread and fear
For the evil in man.

What was done
Had to be done,
But let no one rejoice,
For Justice brings no joy,

Only a restful calm,
And vengeance is a devouring flame
That cuts off the soul of man.

Poetry

A Great Poem

This is a great hope, I heard about on Ravi Zacharias’ broadcast:

We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don’t hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.

We believe in sex before, during, and after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
We believe that sodomy is OK.
We believe that taboos are taboo…

We believe that all religions are basically the same–
at least the one that we read was.

They all believe in love and goodness.
They only differ on matters of
creation, sin, heaven, hell, God, and salvation.

We believe that after death comes the Nothing
Because when you ask the dead what happens they say nothing.
If death is not the end, if the dead have lied,
then it’s compulsory heaven for all
excepting perhaps Hitler, Stalin, and Genghis Khan.

Click here to read the rest.

Adam Graham, Published Poet

I got a poem published in the Barefoot Path. The best part is that I’m finally getting paid for my poetry. I got an e-mail asking where to send the check! :)

Its not going to be a big check, but its a dream come true to actually get paid for this and hopefully one paying publication will open the door to another.

A Psalm of Adam

I’ve loved and been hated,
They mock and lie,
Deceivers and false friends are they all,
They thrust at me with a spear,
They knife me in the back,
And get a friendly pastor to wink and nod.

I’ve been rewarded evil for good,
And been mistreated and scorned,
By those who’ve I shown kindness to,
I’ve poured out and they’ve filled up,
I’ve given blessings,
And their mouths have been asps,
Biting secretly,
Hugging like pythons,
Who squeeze only to destroy.

At times, I feel like a man in a desert,
I weep tears of the bitter and spurned,
With the words of false friendship
And broken promises still fresh in my ear.

Oh God, will the fools
Stand in the place of the powerful,
Shall deaf shepherds be praised?
Shall the profane
Glory over your servants?
Shall sin be blessed more than holiness?

But the Lord shall judge,
For he is righteous and holy,
He is gracious and patient, slow to wrath,
And full of mercy.
The mocker thinks him weak,
But truly the rod was made for the fools back.
The Lord of righteousness will
Make all things right,
And bring blessings on the despised,
And peace on the House of His servants.

As Little Children

Singing loud and proud,
They stood upon the stage,
Boys and girls,
Singing to praise to the Lord,
Arms moving, body weaving
Up and down,
Joyously celebrating Jesus
And not caring what anyone thinks.

Like most of the adults,
I sat in the crowd and stood briefly,
Not wanting to look silly,
My mind jogs to the Master
Talking to his disciples in Galilee,
As the waves dashed against the sea,
Answering their question of
Who would be the greatest with a challenge:
“Unless you be converted as little children,
You will not enter the Kingdom of heaven.”

-Adam Graham

Anger, Lust, and Rage

On the side of the bathroom stall,
Are engravings of the immature,
Anger at society or the police,
Rage against your enemies,
Immortalized in an obscure little
Restaurant they leave their mark.

Yet, immortal its not,
You see the old place
Being torn down or renovated,
The bathroom stall is sent
To a garbage dump
Where it languishes,
Nature blows against their petty monuments,
As it does the great ones.

If lust, anger, and rage
Will fade away,
Killed by the elements,
As both you and the objects
Of your emotions disappear
Into the great sea of dead humanity,
Forgotten to this world,
To be spoken again no more,
Where is the glory
In the words crudely
Carved into metal.

Amen

Thy Kingdom,
Thy Will be Done,
Let it be, Lord,
Let it be.
From Alaska to
Austalia may your Will
Reign throughout the world.

Amen is more than a period,
It is the faithful end
Of a prayer,
Words honestly spoken,
Now turned to the God
Who can answer them.
Burdens we can’t bear alone
Are left with the One who can.
Amen and amen.

As seen on Random Yak

Poetry, Christian Poetry

Forever (Lord’s Prayer)

God looks upon our fashions,
And our foolish fancies,
Our vain philosophies
That come from time to time,
He sees them all
And yet His Will is still accomplished,
The days of our folly are short,
For at the end of our attempts
To dethrone God
Or find some new Utopia,
We pass away, yet he abides.
The man who fights God loses,
As God was before him and will
Be after him.
God’s Kingdom stands forever,
Let the people
Seek the wisdom of the ancient of days,
And trust in the Solid Rock
That will stand through Eternity.

As seen on Bloggin’ Out Loud

Poetry, Christian Poetry

The Glory

Nature testifies of the Glory of God,
His awesomeness is manifested
In the geyser’s eruption,
The eagle in flight,
And the intricite design of our body.
There’s no place you can go,
Where you can’t find the Glory of God.

Its easy to find
The Glory of God
In the songs sung
At beautiful cathedrals,
Or in a great forest,
Or in the river.
Climb a mountain,
Or travel to
A Rain forest or jungle
And you can see
The Glory of the Lord.

Yet, in our day to day
City life, its hard to see.
Through noise and crowds,
We can lose sight of it,
Yet, we can still find it,
Yet, we can find the glory
Of the Lord by looking
In the mirror.

Behold the image and likeness of God,
Fashioned with God’s hands,
Planned by God before the womb,
His steps are ordered by the Lord,
His very hairs numbered,
His every prayer heard,
Behold a creation with free will,
The only one able to become a son of God.

You needn’t go to the mountains
To find the Beauty of the Lord,
Nor the sea to behold
His Glory,
Its all around you
In the faces of all men,
Whether holy or profane,
For all mankind
Proclaims his glory with every step,
And every breath.

Poetry, Christian Poetry

For Thine is the Kingdom

Nietsche thought God was dead,
Yet Nietsche is dead and God still lives,
A thousand fools have risen to fight God,
To obliterate His name from among the People
And take away his remembrance from among the nations,
They’ve thought they could kill Him
Or reason Him away,
Yet they are gone and He remains.

Satan mocks and claims this world
For his own,
People believe him and tremble,
Yet the Earth is the Lord’s
And the fullness thereof,
And all those who dot the face
Of the World.
God reigns from Heaven.
He sits upon his throne
And judges the Earth.

When injustices asail us,
The Righteous Judge sees it,
And He will repay
With perfect justice
When we are besieged by our enemies,
The King of Heaven stands
Ready to send help
And to pardon.

Cast your eyes from
Con men and charlatans,
Egotists and false Messiahs,
And look up to the throne
Of righteousness,
The solid rock that
Does not erode
To man’s changing tides.

Poetry, Christian Poetry

The Power

Some will look at a rabbit foot,
Or wish upon a star,
Others will depend on luck and fortune,
Some will hope in hope itself,
Or believe in the power
Of their own personal superstition.

Yet, nothing will save,
The stars are balls of gases,
Burning in the night,
The rabbits foot wasn’t so lucky for the rabbit,
And our imaginations are vain,
Yet it is the Lord that is The Power.

He’s not a Power,
Or the greatest Power,
But he possesses the Power
Before which all others must bow,
It is the Lord who can cast down Kingdoms
With a word,
It is the Lord who can exalt in a moment.
It is the Lord who is able
To create in us
Things of which we’ve never dreamed.

We turn to You,
For before You all Heaven and Earth
Must bow,
For you have the Power
To do wonders,
The greatest of which is that you love us.

-Adam Graham

Christian Poetry Poetry

As We Forgive Our Debtors

Our Father

I want to be forgiven,
But you don’t know what they did to me.
Those lying backstabbers,
Those false friends,
The chickenhearted failures,
That no-good double dealing con man,
They’ve hurt me
And wounded me.

They owe me,
And they’re going to pay,
Yet, I owed God,
Must I now pay?
Am I not the fool
Who holds to a ticking
Time bomb
Like a toddler to his
Favorite teddy bear.

Strength me to forgive
My debtors,
No matter how great
The pain they’ve inflicted,
For it is nothing
Compared to what you bore
On Calvary.
Free me from anger,
And let me trust you
To make all things right
In accodrance with
Your judgment and perfect love.

Christian Poetry, Poetry

The Dream of Reconciliation

Some dream of vengeance,
Some of righteous judgment
On those who’ve betrayed them,
Who’ve said they loved them,
But stabbed them in the back,
And who can blame them,
For no law can hold you
Responsible for the dreams.

Yet, as I lay in bed,
I dream of something else,
I dream of a hug and love
From the people who’ve hurt me.
I dream of love,
I dream of peace,
Of a picnic where we get together
And bury the hatchet,
And dwell together like
People of God

Yet, I awake to reality,
And find the dreams
As phony as the people in them are,
Fantasies of a moment,
Dreams of a better world,
Quickly shattering
As I melt into reality,
And feel the chill of the cold morning
And remember that you can only
Go some places in your dreams.

-Adam Graham

Poetry, Christian Poetry

And Forgive us Our Debts

Our Father

I come to you owing so much,
Yet you forgive me freely,
Time and time again,
I fail myself,
I’m beset by own guilt and failings,
By anger unjustified,
By unkindness and bitterness that
Finds its way into my heart.

Yet, for reasons
I can never understand,
You forgive.
You don’t say go climb a mountain
Or slay a giant and then I’ll forgive you.
You don’t make me work it off,
You just forgive me freely.
You have every right to demand of me
More than I could pay.
I’ve earned it,
But you let me go
With that challeng to sin no more.

Forgive me my debts,
But help me to have less to forgive,
Lord, let me be not like the wastrel,
But help me to learn,
Grant me that I might live in holiness
Before you,
Cleanse my mind, my heart,
Remove any deceit from my lips,
That I might walk in your light.

As We Forgive Our Debtors

Christian Poetry