Quittn’ Time

Lay hold the call
And hold fast the line
Make sure your heart
Soon be quittn’ time.

Lift up your eyes
And look far away
See that ghost-like army
Here it comes today.

The whistle’s blown, the bell is rung
And soft begins the dirge
We see the sun is dipping low
Lay down your every urge.


One of Us

Burn baby burn
I will not be content
I hear the voices of the dead always
Their faces are always before my eyes
Screaming and gunfire is in the background of every conversation I ever have
And I am almost never wholly here
Part of me is always in the other place
And they are always with me
I see the dead.

burn baby burn.

Let the world go up in flames
I would not be more in pain
I would not then begin to doubt.

Let the heroes speak their peace
Let the angels blow their horns
Loose the devils to the world
I am no post-millennial.

I will not be consoled
unless by God’s own hand
I will not be sated
unless by His Spirit
I will not be calmed
unless by His voice in this wilderness.

I can feel your pain
and it hurts me
and maybe that
is why He became
one of us.

Two Poems- A Call and Response

Here are two poems. The first inspired the second. They form the start of a sort of call and response (which is one of my absolute favourite things in poetry- because what poet hasn’t wanted to use this form of communication to actually communicate with another person…). The author of the first poem has a blog titled, “intotheindigo.” It is fantastic and QueridaJ is an amazing poet. Check out her blog to see the original poem in its original setting by clicking on the link above or on the link in the poets section on the right sidebar.

Rooted in Gaps

I push away
Wanting to be pulled
I shy away
Wanting to be sought
I turn away
Wanting to be caught

I yearn alone

I yearn alone

But I assume you know

The gaps they fill with silence
And wayward thoughts,
they cloud
The reality that you have made

I am grateful but selfish
wanted but needy
Loved but insecure

I realize….but will I reach?



I have lain in silence
and stared out into the ink
the darkness held me
as I dreamed for light
In my head I knew of hope
but my heart-
so stubborn a heart,
it was weak
and did not know much of my head.
I felt my need
but did not feel I deserved to have it filled
and so I waited in darkness
and felt the weight
of being
I hear through the distance
words of a kind God
and I hear the calls of friends
and now I must speak to my heart
and tell it of my head
and all the words that have come to me.
I pray that you are sought
and caught
and not alone.
We feel a thing
so strong to death
and our emotions
have a weight
but let us feel one happy truth
a washing of the slate.
Let gratefulness sink in
even deeper.

-Soul Walker