Hip Hop Heart Cloggin’

Bouncing back and forth to the beat
as if gravity left and this is a moon bounce seat
bobbing my head with the lyrics of heroes
putting them as men without sin, zero

Not understanding that these are fallen men
not wanting open my eyes or my heart to turn
I hold these songs as cures for my top ten
not seeking the proper ointment for the burn

I’m putting more hot coals on top of the skin
hoping to feel the relief of burning it all away
There’s a lot of losing in this game, no chance to win
Listening to poison, expecting the pain to stay

The rhythm flowing through my body, no hobby, just robbin’
all of my desires of righteousness, no chance to look
at the real God because of my cycle of heart cloggin’
pushing the Truth down while lifting up the crook.

The hate of their speech is easy to relate with, so real
I can feel the anger rising inside of me, no love for you
You offer to love me for nothing of my own doing, no deal
You don’t know my heart inside of me, no love for you

The answer is to lash out, to fight back with my fists
to make them feel the pain that I feel deep down, no choice
but to keep pushing back until you truly get the gist
I scream of anger with no one to hear my cries, no voice

When will the answers that I hear in these songs be seen?
When will my reality line up with what I hear in their breath?
My eyes, heart, and mind have never had a linear theme
and that might because it only comes through His life and death.

Beauty Blinds the Bound

The heart slowly races with ease

yet the hands tremble calmly.

Blinking and staring into space

with no end, middle, or beginning

- of the stare not space.

The insignificant purpose-filled man

lays still; no motion to see within the empty moment.

Pondering on nothingness and its beauty

while breathing in nothingness called “air.”

He named it without significance or purpose.

Absently remaining in the present moment purposefully

placing trust in the continuance of existence without ever really existing.

Consciously looking without eyes to see

not knowing his eyes were blind and knowing he didn’t want sight.

Beauty blinds the bound in their own rebellion.

Terrified that life is really death and death is really

Life; Refusing to experience freedom because laying still feels

so good. The tingling numbness pushes death

while the legs remain motionless and restless without knowing

that rest exists not in stillness but in a Person.

Death always felt good as long as it was chosen

but Life chooses those who he wants.

Motion was given, purpose fulfilled, meaning explained

and none of it found in space

but in this Person and Life.

The Fall - Spoken Word

The Pure Weight of Snow

The Pure Weight of Snow

Jacob Luis Gonzales

Softly resting on the branch

is the snow of winter

painting the landscape

glimmering, shining, reflecting light

The weight slowly presses

and the beautiful snow hurts

the branches can’t press back

so they bend, painfully and dramatically

The purity shines and blinds all

those who look at its reflection

yet the sting is desired and pursued

because the light is alluring

The covering of snow allows

little, bare, and dark shapes behind

with no care for its resting place

and its place cracks with no restraint

The gravity pulls so steadily

and no one can push back enough

no one can stop its pressure

with no way of reaching to give rest

Heavily the snow sits and lays still

with no mending options to make and create

yet we all watch the pure and heavy covering

while the branch cracks, snaps, and is destroyed.