Look Beyond the Mess - Transition, Transcend, and Transform

Transition, transcend, and transform
Don’t be blown away by the storm
For life brings many of those your way
Various trials and turbulent tribulations
Don’t let them fill you with frustration
Choke you with countless cares
Nor lead to your own inebriation
Anger, rage, and violent reaction
As you seek fulfillment and satisfaction
Challenges and change come to us all
Yet they don’t need to cause you to fall
Times of challenge require confrontation
Arise wisely to navigate and transition
Push through you present condition
To elegantly arive at your intended position
Plan and calculate as you move to fruition
Once you know what to do, forget hesitation
Interact with childlike faith without suspicion
Trust your inner instincts, and keen intuition
Regain your purpose and heavenly vision
Pray for discernment and divine direction
Engage thyself patiently with all affection
Never let impatience thwart trouble thy mind
Allow your life journey to flow in due time
Enjoy it thoroughly as you progress continually
Embrace thyself inwardly and speak positively
Concerning thy own personal dialogue inwardly
Never belittle, nor be abusive to thyself
Love you for all you are, above all else
Let serendipity have its way each new day
Don’t try to hard, nor get in your own way
By faith and patience you can transcend each test
Arise above, go beyond, and become your best
You can have more in life, if you don’t settle for less
As you transition and transcend to transform the mess
Your mess will become the means by which you’re blessed.

Paul Davis is a motivational speaker, life purpose coach, worldwide minister, change master, creative consultant, and turnaround specialist.

Paul is the author of several books including Breakthrough for a Broken Heart; Adultery: 101 Reasons Not to Cheat; Are You Ready for True Love; Stop Lusting & Start Living; Waves of God; Supernatural Fire; Poems that Propel the Planet; and God vs. Religion.

Paul’s compassion for people & passion to travel has taken him to over 50 countries of the world where he has had a tremendous impact. Paul has served in many war-torn, impoverished and tsunami stricken regions of the earth. His Dream-Maker Inc. is building dreams, breaking limitations & reviving nations.

Paul’s Seminars inspire, revive, awaken, impregnate with purpose, impart the fire of desire, catapult people into a new level of self-awareness, facilitate destiny discovery and dream fulfillment.

Contact Paul to minister, speak at your event or for life coaching:

RevivingNations@yahoo.com
407-284-1705

www.DreamMakerMinistries.com
http://www.CreativeCommunications.TV

Long Live The Love Poem!

Long live love poems: There’s no chance the love poem is dead, the reason? Because the one you write is for the one you cherish the most and it will be a part of you both forever. Writing a poem is all about observing the world within you or around you and leaving all expectations behind.
For the cash-strapped, or romantically inclined, writing a sincere, well thought out love poem may be just the ticket to your loved one’s heart. Love poems, friendship poems, sad poems, romantic poems, or any poem that you can think of may mean more to someone then any gift ever could. If you are writing challenged, poems-online.com can show you how to write the perfect poem to get the one you’re after.

For example, romantic love poems exhibit an intense sense of love felt by a lover but must also poses the elements of a poem: elegant structure, classic rhyme scheme, and beautiful imagery.
How? Well poetry’s use of ambiguity, symbolism, irony and other stylistic elements of diction often leave a poem open to multiple interpretations. As we’ve often discussed, poetry can be about anything.

You should view poetry in an entirely new and innovative way. For example, Edgar Allan Poe, although probably best known for his macabre stories, also wrote poetry and loved to experiment with the sounds of words.

While some may find poetry intimidating or irrelevant, there are people who poetry as Hope. I’ve been writing poetry since I was about 11 years old and wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Are you interested in writing poetry or learning the process involved in crafting a poem? Then start writing instantly, right now, go and give your writing on paper.

There are many different techniques and forms you can use when writing a poem, but we won’t go into them here because, honestly, they aren’t that important. Writing a poem is all about observing the world within you or around you. Try writing out an answer to the question, “What is this poem about.

It’s true that many of us tend to be jaded when it comes to romantic writing as it seems old fashioned. When I’m writing a poem, I hardly consider its contemporary context. Writing a poem is a voyage of discovery. Besides, a poem can be about anything — pets, family, friends, things you like to do. Your poem is not an editorial. Your poem is very good and beautiful. Read it out loud, slowly!

As is true of most of us, the poet’s understanding of an experience is a gradual realization, and the poem is a reflection of that epiphany. So nobody truly knows where the poem is, nor should they. As soon as a poem is finished to your satisfaction, mail a copy to a trusted friend and ask him or her to keep it along with the cancelled envelope. For time, waits for no man.

The Cliffs to Torre Torre (Huancayo’s Envy))Peru)) A Poem With Notes

The Cliffs to Torre Torre
(Huancayo’s Envy))Peru))

Prehistoric Geological Monument near Huancayo

Tall up by the cliffs, in the township of Huancayo, stands
A cluster of piercing stone like pillars, lightening rods
From the Ancient-gods, with thousands of years being:

weather worn and torn and blistered;
These pillars of stone reach—heavenward.
Around this cluster, an engulfing, natural enclosure
Like an old cemetery guarded with erect towers and tombs;
Brownish rocks, baked by the sun, washed by the rains

from the heavens:
It is called ‘Torre Torre’ and rests below the cliffs of Huancayo,

alone.
It is the envy of the Valley, where both warrior and poet

have traveled.

#1788 4/13/2007

Note: The poem, ‘…Torre Torre’, is not referring to the island called ‘Bora Bora’ in the South Pacific, it is a geological wonder in and around Huancayo, Peru, beyond the Andes, in the Valley of Mantaro. How it got its name, I don’t know, but I’ve been to the site a number of times, and it is always fascinating to see the course the wind, and weather have taken on this geological wonder, how they worked to mold such things as these stone towers; primeval geological erosion. Fascinating I say, for surely they’ve been here longer than the city of Huancayo, habitants by some 325,000-citizens; an old Wanka culture once roamed this area, perhaps dating back to 1000 BC. The stone pillars are more tucked away in what I’d call a gorge. One can go down to see it, and actually walk through it, or one can go onto the cliffs above it, and look down over it, and if more adventurous, climb down into it, or like me, just observe it from a close distance, both ways.

For folks who wish to visit the site: Torre Torre is a geological formation of enormous towers of clayey soil, molded by the winds and rain, located very near to Cerrito de la Libertad.

See Dennis’ web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Poetry Slam Competition

Some people trace slam poetry to the beat poets of the 1950’s. Scholars believe that slam poetry predates written poetry. Whenever slam poetry began it has climbed to a big event that hosts approximately 75 teams from the United State, Canada, and some other countries.

Before explaining what and how a slam poetry contest works it is important that you understand the history of it. Many believe that the slam competitions held today were started by Marc Smith at the Get Me High Lounge in Chicago. From Marc Smith’s starting of slam competitions it was then moved to the Green Mill Jazz Club where it will find its permanent Chicago Home. From there the competition would eventually move to Fort Mason, San Francisco in 1990 where the first National Slam took place.

Although there are many world wide poetry slams there is only one that focuses on positive Spoken Word and Hip Hop. It is the ISPT, or the International SpokenWord and Poetry Tournament. This tournament was created by the Hip Hop Feminist Nation and focuses primarily on creating positive Spoken Word and Hip Hop. The tournament has also improved the biases and weakness of the PSI (poetry slam, inc) and the IWPS (individual world poetry slam) by having a head to head poet format.

How does slam poetry work? What are the rules of slam poetry?

In order for many poets to participate in the slam there are traditionally two to four rounds of elimination rounds. The standard format for elimination rounds is an 8-4-2 set-up in which eight poets begin the competition and it will eventually end with to poets in the last rounds.

Some slams are invitational slams in which you are invited to participate. In these slams there is usually a 5-5-5 format in which case five poets read three poems each and there is no elimination so the poets can get a chance to better show themselves off.

In most slam competitions there is a time limit of three minutes and an extra 10 seconds for a grace period. Your score can be penalized if it goes over the time limit.

In certain occasions, The Props Slams for instance, costumes and props are allowed. In most slams, however, costumes and props are not allowed. This occurs because the slam hosts do not want a poet to win because of his/her clothing or prop. In certain competitions where this rule is being enforced very strictly a pair of sunglasses can even be seen as a prop.

The scoring for these competitions are done by randomly chosen members of the audience. The scoring is different at almost every competition so it is hard to tell the most popular.

The most popular slam is an Open Slam where anyone can compete. Other slams are the Theme Slam, Dead Poet Slam, “1-2-3″ Slam, Team Slam, and Props Slam.

It is certainly an evolving form of poetry and is definitely a must do competition for all poets.

Some people trace slam poetry to the beat poets of the 1950’s. slam poetry

Living On Love

Living on love
From God above
Praying and believing
For supernatural help
Miraculous breakthroughs
Simply to just get through
All I have got to soon do
To pay my bills and rent
My strength is nearly spent
Joy has suddenly went
Now enduring love
That’s all I’ve got
I guess I’m not
All that smart
Certainly not rich
Yet I’m hitched
Lost in love
All I dream of
My hopes great
Aspirations many
Though I’m without
A single penny
Living on love
Trying not to shove
People around
Though I’m down
A bit disgruntled
About what I’ve
Unhappily found
Occupationally
Professionally
Would to God
Somebody
Would save me
Quickly uplift me
Out of this mess
It’s hard I confess
Nevertheless
I long and believe
For my eyes to see
What I do deeply
Go after child-likely
I’m just carefree
Pursuing my destiny
With fervor and intensity
My ongoing propensity
To always consistently
Work wholeheartedly
Labor tirelessly
Flow creatively
Speak positively
Apply myself fully
In what God’s given me
As I earnestly try to be
Persevere aggressively
Resist all negativity
Pioneer expectantly
Push on passionately
Forge ahead furiously
Following my desires
That burn like fire
Wishing to acquire
Everything possible
For my darling princess
She who I love and kiss
When apart, I deeply miss
Her touch and tenderness
Soothes and comforts me
Removes pain wonderfully
Restores the boy in me
To believe and fly again
My sweetheart and friend
Her smile resurrects again
My bruised and broken heart
Though disappointed I start
To get up again and fight
The daily fight of faith
To attain a promised place
A position and societal grace
These goals I do now taste
I’m melted by one embrace
The radiant smile upon her face
Awakened and arisen by love
Which motivates me toward
All I wish for and dream of.

Living is loving and loving is living. Either without the other is empty. Paul Davis is a love and relational coach empowering people to live their dreams. He is a worldwide minister uplifting humanity and impacting families.

Paul Davis is a life purpose and love coach (professional & relational), worldwide minister, change master, and FL real estate agent.

Paul is the author of several books including Breakthrough for a Broken Heart; Adultery: 101 Reasons Not to Cheat; Are You Ready for True Love; Stop Lusting & Start Living; Waves of God; Supernatural Fire; Poems that Propel the Planet; and God vs. Religion.

Paul’s compassion for people & passion to travel has taken him to over 50 countries of the world where he has had a tremendous impact. Paul has served in many war-torn, impoverished and tsunami stricken regions of the earth. His Dream-Maker Inc. is building dreams, breaking limitations & reviving nations.

Paul’s Breakthrough Seminars inspire, revive, awaken, impregnate with purpose, impart the fire of desire, catapult people into a new level of self-awareness, facilitate destiny discovery and dream fulfillment.

Contact Paul to minister, speak at your event or for life coaching:

RevivingNations@yahoo.com, 407-284-1705.

http://www.DreamMakerMinistries.com

http://www.CreativeCommunications.TV

The Otter Hunter And The Storm Spirit (As Told 5000 Years Ago In The Aleutian Islands)

Hunter: Come close. I have a story to tell about how the storm spirit tried to take me away.

It was a clear cold day with just a slight breeze and some early morning fog hanging on the horizon. I left the warmth of my underground dwelling in Unalaska and walked down the rocky beach to the sea. I had with me what food I would need for the day and my hunting weapons.

I climbed into my kayak and started paddling for the kelp bed at Nateekin Bay to hunt the otter. It was a long ways but I was prepared. I wore my seal skin parka to help protect me from the ocean spray and my wooden hunting visor to protect my eyes from the suns glare. The sea was smooth except for deep swells that hid the land from my sight when I was at the bottom of the wave, and back in view again when at the top. I paddled hard and nonstop seeing only a few birds, seals, and two whales. Eagles flying high above looked down on me wondering where I was going.

At long last I could see the kelp bed looming up ahead, rolling back and forth to the motions of the waves and tide. The kelp bed at Nateekin Bay was large and many otter lived there. I thought one of them will be mine this day. I approached the kelp bed slowly and stopped paddling so the only sounds were waves quietly sloshing against the sides of my kayak. I reached back for my hunting board and darts and became one with sea and the kelp bed itself. I knew the otter would surface if I had patience.

The storm spirit was close by and knew I was there. He crept up on me silently, and then attacked me without warning. The sea became a wild and noisy place with the kelp thrashing wildly in the wind and waves. My kayak dug deep into the sea’s depth for protection from the wrath of the storm spirits icy breath. The wind, cold rain, and fog covered me as black menacing clouds came down on me and took my breath away. My kayak was bending from the weight of the sky and I could hear my ancestors calling me. Their voices echoed over the roar of the storm. They were calling to me to give in to the storm spirit and join them this day.

Made of driftwood and stretched seal skins, my kayak held fast and would not go under the violent sea. The spirit wind finally lost interest in me, and the voices of my ancestors slowly faded back into the depths of the sea. I turned for home knowing the otter was safe for another day and I would join my ancestors another time.

Hunter: Some days when we take to the seas we are stronger than the storm spirit.

Hal is the author of the book “The Great Eagle Spirit”. The story for young readers is about a young Alaskan boy caught in a severe storm in the Bering Sea. He is rescued by his ancestors and learns the importance of his ancestry.

Hal is the author of the book “The Great Eagle Spirit”. The story for young readers about a young Alaska boy caught in a severe storm in the Bering Sea. He is rescued by his ancestors and learns the importance of his ancestry. Go to http://www.halgranum.com to learn more about his adventures.

Flight Of Phoenix

1

I make myself man
each time I create
setting, character, tone
in a poem
create poetic sense
disclose my natural being
playing five senses
my distortions and inversions
evolve in history and society
to save the man in me
through poetry of self

2

The seed of my song
lies deep in memory
like paddy in field

blooms ages when wind
blows inside out and grows
genes in womb, turns self

3

A poem is madness
unique fascination
liberating language
re-creates, re-symbolises
disfiguring the known
secured norms
inverting the safe
existence

4

When sleepless poetry
fails to negotiate night
I wait for white dreams

5

The halo of my vision
is the Mother’s gaze:

he whom I seek is
hidden in her eyes

shedding hope and love
all around her mercy

6

Love is my prison
and freedom both
in her presence
my wish her wish

to be everything
her shiva and
shakti a dual-single
me and she, one

7

Love leads to beauty
and vision with perfection
pillar of dust or

fleeting shadow can
turn into light revealing
pure songs wrought out of

the clay blending joys
in naked passion seek signs
of self-discovery

roving with delight
and perfume of fellowship
in valley of peace

8

Life limits between
whence the sun rises and where
it goes to relax:
joys of a fleeting moment
I see Aditi in her eyes

9

Love without clothes
without bone has
a joy within:
soft smooth and full

like the mind
creative and
erogenous

10

It hangs like a drop
any moment evaporate
love is gullible

11

When I inhale in
your mouth and exhale stroking
hairs or caressing
I ride you into joy and
make you hail the morning like earth

12

Rocked or burning within
poor performer
turns the hell inside out

can’t dance on a taut rope
with fragile legs
enjoy flames of passion

love is a high explosive
not charged by
induced sexuality

13

Frosted faces dissolve in
stale rain clutching
female body and

poached contexts dizzyingly slip
from a vineyard
who’ll treat them angels?

14

How can a poet
pierce through tamed passages
in the wolves’ psyche

too scared to peep:
in the walled academy
they lope with cold eyes

shielding some dumb myths
or haunted by empty hunts
parrying moments of truth

15

There’s nothing comfortable in the chilly gray wind and
what burns at the wintry end in Holi splash of colours
unglow what might have been left in ransacked ashes
they all witness the last shot of season in transition
like bare-branched trees unrelieving miseries of truth
in the unspirited campus and inscrutable shades

16

Winter is caught in
waves of narrow discussions
under the blanket
fingers move by nipples erect
without sensing consummation

17

I feel alone
like a wandering bird
without a nest:

empty without flame
the cave of the heart reeks of
forsaken island

18

Each day I construct
my self in new desires and
end in emptiness

a hollow shadow
I move in dust and rest in
stony webs of haze

19

In a grey morning
It’s a foggy silent world
The stink of darkness

when’ll the gulf open
stir the still horizons red
and swallow the wood

20

It needs heat
to eject a seed
and ripen to fruit:

mind makes its image
with imprints dumped in
forging rhymes

21

Bones of levity criss-cross
at the bottom of silence
there is no shape in the mind

22

As I did not earn my cross
they cheated me when
I bought it to pray

the satan sought my consent
to sin in silence
I was duped again

23

Memory fades
like her body
in dim light

I bury my head
in open hands
to escape noises

24

Is it the heat wave
or stupor that I see
shadows in the dark
and call it vision?

25

Summer turns prettier
after dust storm or rain
night alloys with cool colours

26

The colour of night is the same everywhere
what if my identity is not known
let’s fuck the moment and forget the place

27

Waking up from a drugged sleep
I remember I was a butterfly
or butterfly dreamt me?

a sun away the brown of the walls
seemed flying with her shawl
and I couldn’t overlook

I hunt a forgotten scene
outside the dusty road in summer
the flowers yellow and die

28

This morning autumn moves in the pool
I watch the deciduous trees and leaves’ decay
the air whirling with dust

the drains are choked and my forehead
smudged like the stained table:
the more I clean the more dirty

and the slow sun smiles in the backyard
over the bony back of a stray cow
I look for a bit of green at my door

but goats have jumped the fence
there’s just one papaya flower
and remains of ber parrots dropped

it’s the same old agony in changing hues:
should I steal colours from butterflies
or contract prayers in their little wings?

29

From stony breaches
by roadside erupt
wild plants and creepers

through moss search their trellis
perhaps mime my attempts
at survival against

broken fences flinty knots
and shapeless shades in evening

30

The river walks without shoes
unsinging the night’s hooligans
that scamper across the city

unbreasted years ago for
hawks of peace now midgeted
to amuse mornings that gaol

all fire and thoughts smitten by stones
of figures-to-be hewing
new melodies by black grass

past my shadow overarching
all listening and light and cliff
that hang the tale or pain the legs

no matter I walk without
the rest of the ground I tread
like river droning day’s ashes

31

The frog in mirror
slips by damp towel
cold sets in slippy hands

rain flows on windows
black water crawls down
like diseased reptiles

why scrub the smelly
underbellies
there’s no paradise

32

With blurred landscape
painting dust all around
they become dust
fail to live life
hiding it from others
from themselves fail

33

The mask of man they paint
with so many fingers as brushes
man’s only colour now

34

They hide the mirrors
with rose and lipstick
and keep their fiction

35

Apple, snake and three-fifths of me
in bed manipulates man
inside selfish rubbles

36

Growing hair on soul
man longs for known grooves of death
safe in sterile womb:

loving, impotent
lost in vanity and self-
commiseration

37

How many defy
the space between
sleep and leap

I hear sounds
of cracked mirrors
and torn veils

38

Crazy these people
don’t know how to go
down with the swirl and
up with the whirl but
play in the raging water:
who can find the green dragon
lost in the yoni without?

39

Your black sunglasses
conceal the face that reveals
the real you in sun

40

Face lotus
tongue sandal
manners sweet

heart scissors
I know him
seasoned crook

41

We are a nation
of cowards worshiping dumb
images can’t stand
a full-fleshed person speaking
nude in god’s home like in bed

performing love with
wife or self in dark alone
ever ignorant

moralising
hell of fear
with legs tucked up
posing brave

42

Fear in the mind
runs us this way
and that reaching
nowhere spitting
anger against wind
singing threnodies
or cursing fate

43

Can’t you drop your saree
and all that conspires to conceal
your nudity, my love

forsake your modesty
and see the naked passion in
my eyes seeking freedom

to unite and transform
the night through body’s dark alleys
don’t you love your freedom?

44

Scratching between his legs
he creeped towards the fence
and said something to her

gawd, in a minute
I see her tending the blouse
half-hidden by roses

45

He presses her skin
or tastes the salty sweat
night singes genes in bed
love’s eunuch game turns in
dreams to feed ignorance
leaning on sticky backs
of dead orisons

46

She put him off each time
he caressed her or
tried to kiss or crossleg
even bought her presents
to make her agree
but she won’t care
till he raised the stick
and tamed her in bed

47

They make moments memorable
with quarrels over nothing
reduce relations to relic

48

A woman should complement
not complicate wanting love
and freedom both with sweetness

of the bone in mouth or
frenzied riding high or
grinding pubic regions

giving more and getting more
she must sound like a cologne
not sin or magic bullet

49

Woman is the flesh
and spirit of poetry
eternal love thirst

growing younger as
one grows older day by day
perfecting the body

50

An undressed woman
is a form to lay bare
the vulnerable
in myriad colours:
live sensuous delicious
like true sex exposing
naked truths through body
peep into ever
growing consciousness

51

Not with physical eyes
not in sleep or dream
nor in madness or in
hidden place or peace
but in imageless state
beyond human self
with eyes of the sipirit
when symbols one sees
visions are seen as grace

52

The split in cypress
is vulva I know the roots
purush-prakriti

call it Yin and Yang
our basic sex, lingam and
yoni harmonise

like lotus rising
from the depths of lake through mud
crossing existence

53

The fig of life with
roots above and branches below:
man and woman one

54

Dragons play whirlwind
among the clouds meet and rain
unite earth and sky

55

The mount of venus
rises above the mars
and unites on my palm
like a horse and elephant

56

Like a woman’s mind
resides between her thighs joy
and satisfaction

man’s love and hatred
concentrate on the crevice
though he watches face

she laughs when I say
love and beauty is nothing
but sabre and sheath

57

In the lake of your eyes
I saw him drowning
but, who was the fisher
that netted him out?

58

In the forest of your hair
my finger searches
the little pearl of blood
that stirs the hidden waters
and contains my restlessness

59

I smell my boneless
semen under the pillow
weaving legends in

half-dream along her
hips as I curl like rainbow
dying winds splash down blots

60

The remains of morning
like the remaining work stare:
my pen is cold to words

in bed I keep with her
wondering what I’d haul in our
burning, sleek, empty sex

now mind’s dried with dry hive
I can’t create with bald head:
sky showers ashes of rose

61

The highwayman lies
to rob a moon with skull
whipping up valour:

she unzips her skirt
like the silkworm undoing
its yellow cocoon

62

My hand
held out in the dark
remained empty:

none reached it
to give joy of
the meeting hands

63

I don’t know when or how cracks grew for love to fall through
but memory waves obstinately:
her thoughts recur even after the emptiness of
the sky blares and I can’t hide numbness of the year
before Bulli but her coming to me
just to revive those moments of togetherness
in lovely valley turns cold and apathetic
sun rushes in home and sudden silence
is all that echoes in new year’s handshake with me

64

She won’t understand
and force him yeah
always after hours
wishes of death and
shouts and blames
would ache his anger
in the testicles and
again she would tame
her man in bed
not knowing
what he has become

65

A meanest moment
of eternity it was
when I was conceived

after 40 years
I see same degeneration
my mother saw first

empty of poetry
stoic, dull and diffident:
always puny game

with triple fury
winds return and put out light
what use watching god?

66

Before it heals or
scars merge with time’s endlessness
morning brings new wounds

is there a release
from unloving life day by day
breathing heartless air?

67

Everything is falling apart
every wall is cracking
I too am breaking

to be someone and to belong
drink in love like many
secured sure happy

I too want to live and be loved
not piece by piece, friends
but, will they let me?

68

After the day’s blaring
hymns and mantras loudspeakers
and tribal drums and dance

to please the lion goddess
in roadside Puja pandals
there reigns frigid silence

69

No one sings these days
songs don’t come easily
life has lost music

70

Giant smoke from the factory
mates with perfumed dhoopam
rising from the trucks carrying Durga
in the afternoon Subarnarekha
is crowded with idols and people
absorb shocks with reverence
suffer dust, mud and stench

71

Who is a gentleman here
everyone speaks more
than one tongue in self-interest
ditch everyone or
turn disinterested
in excuse curse everyone
or say it’s bad luck

72

The glow of victory
is deceptive coming from
frail man’s needs and tears

midnight sighing of poor
deprived of the tree of wealth
bare body, dry land

where is light and grace
in ravished image of struggle
midst mute mass and doubts?

73

Death in silence speaks
moonlight cleaves to the body
peace gropes for poems

74

In flames rise voices
of futility and dreams
in dust fear and love

75

Time is running out
cracks in walls develop fast
but I stay static

shrouded in cobweb
as if in dusk denying death
brooding slipped chances

76

Can’t I grab a little
warmth, fresh air and love
simple, sound and innocent?

I’m fed up playing
life across the net
shuttling nightmare in cold

77

The moon rises with
million stars in sky
but none worship

the dying sun says
how alone one is
sinking in glory

78

What good will happen
waiting to leach through old layers
no use stay put here:

the leaves have turned moth
we cross-leg with crabbed wishes
erase one more year

Curse God and Die!

“Curse God and die!”
That is what Job’s wife
Had to say with her life
Job 2:9 may encourage
Men with wayward wives
Who twist and torment
Their devout spiritual lives
She sought to discourage
The meek man of God
To whom she was married
She claimed God tarried
Denied the poor old soul
As he laid in a bed of illness
Waiting to be healed and whole
Job’s wife defiantly thought to
Get him to give up all hope
Doubt, vacillate, and struggle
Be overwhelmed and beyond
The stability that anchors
The tranquility that subdues
The faith the quietly conquers
Silencing nasty gnawing negativity
That tries to sink you devilishly
Job would not join her pity party
Job dared to believe unashamedly
Job continually worshipped happily
Job endured trials wholeheartedly
Refused to waver with hostility
Stood firm, abiding faithfully
Encouraging himself inwardly
Always arising expectantly
Awaiting God to miraculously
Wipe away his hurt and pain
Shut the accuser’s mouth
Bind every evil adversary
Provide and give prosperity
Fill him with divine ability
To lift up his head proudly
Concerning God Almighty
Who He knew in victory
Inwardly and outwardly
Job’s faith produced fully
Proved timeless and truthful
God showed Himself powerful
Vindicating Job suddenly
Against every lying enemy
Sadly his wife was among
That pathetic critical company
Nevertheless Job withstood
Such cruel hurtful mediocrity
Holding fast to his destiny
Job received double suddenly
When God turned his captivity
Slapped success on Job mightily
Giving him double for his trouble
Lifting him far above the rubble
Of his dreadful, difficult past
Job greatly showed humanity
That pain doesn’t always last
Truth does forever remain
The pure will always endure
Therefore be tender and true
No matter what we go through
Uphold God and not disdain
Challenges and deep pain
Because God can rearrange
Change all in Jesus Name!
The God of the resurrection
Blesses the weak and lame
And the critic’s tongue tame.

Paul Davis is a worldwide minister, change master, turnaround specialist, and life purpose coach.

Paul is a poet and author of several books including Waves of God; Breakthrough for a Broken Heart; Are You Ready for True Love; and Supernatural Fire. Paul is a popular speaker, creative consultant, adventurer, mediator conquering conflict, liberator, and dream-maker.

Paul’s compassion for people & passion to travel has taken him to over 50 countries of the world where he has had a tremendous impact. Paul has served in many war-torn, impoverished and tsunami stricken regions of the earth. His organization Dream-Maker Ministries is building dreams, breaking limitations and reviving nations.

Paul inspires, revives, awakens, impregnates with purpose, imparts the fire of desire, catapults people into a new level of self-awareness, facilitates destiny discovery and dream fulfillment.

Contact Paul to speak at your event or for life coaching:
RevivingNations@yahoo.com, 407-284-1705

For additional info:
http://www.CreativeCommunications.TV
http://www.DreamMakerMinistries.com

What Are You Giving God?

What are you giving God?
You ask Him occasionally
Sometimes continually
For things excessively
Things most necessary
Important for your image
To uphold your visage
Your pride a barrage
Your lusts a mirage
That easily camouflage
What you truly want
Desires down deep
You dream and keep
Though your hope
Seems most bleak
Considering how you
Dreadfully speak
Wants far beneath
You should not
Merely bequeath
Instead boldly seek
Put feet to your faith
Practice some grace
Pursue God’s face
Not just His hand
Touch Daddy’s heart
Don’t just come to get
And than up and depart
Move beyond murmuring
Conquer complaining
Enter into thanksgiving
Relinquish your control
Let fully go and be whole
Don’t say you’re the Lord’s
When you maintain control
Concerning where to live
Dictate how much to give
Christ wants all your life
Not merely a tithe or tip
Yet you do resist and quip
Say no to God with the lip
Limit and shackle Christ
By your unyielded life
Demands and standards
Repeated denials froward
A miniscule menial mentality
Self-centered life for me
Me, myself, and only I
No wonder why you cry
Flail in frustration and fuss
Cuss as you drive the bus
Trying to lead and navigate
Your inability apparent
Self-willed you are errant
Godliness is not about gain
It is taking up your cross
Enduring and denying self
To serve Jesus holy Name!
Not money and profane fame
Choose therefore your god!
If money, than be not angry
When promises of prosperity
For humble obedient servants
Delay in there coming to you
Instead wisely ask yourself
What must I endeavor to do
For blessings and breakthrough?
Release what you require
To get what you desire
Catch fresh consuming fire
To ignite your destiny
Forge ahead with intensity
Overthrow fearful timidity
Replace angst with peace
Let your soul now feast
Prosperity begins within
If not there, you’ll not win
Die to your defiant rights
Let the Lord arise to fight
Triumph over your battles
Cause the enemy to scatter
Lead you in righteousness
Seek His face to lovingly kiss
His heart to tenderly embrace.
Prayer is the pleasant place
To find joy, glory, and grace
Worship God and happily taste!
Don’t let consumerism erase
Your personhood and passion
Regain purpose and take action!
You quickly ask for the best
But yourself give God the rest
Complain about every test
Trials, tribulations, transition
Seeking self-actualization
Disregarding degradation
Christ’s brutal crucifixion
For you He paid the price
To give you newness of life.
As for you, what in return
Will you purpose to do?
Can Jesus count on you?
To make known to humanity
Divine love, life, and liberty?
Or will you carry on merely
To sustain yourself entirely?
When will you sacrificially give?
Save lost souls needing to live?
For these Jesus bled and died
Not for greed, ego, and pride.

Paul Davis is a worldwide minister and life purpose coach empowering people to live their dreams. Transcending barriers that discourage and divide, Paul transforms individuals and organizations. An insightful teacher and author, Paul gives humanity a message of hope to reconcile them to the Maker of heaven and earth.

Paul Davis is a worldwide minister, life purpose and love coach (professional & relational), change master, and FL real estate agent.

Paul is the author of several books including Breakthrough for a Broken Heart; Adultery: 101 Reasons Not to Cheat; Are You Ready for True Love; Stop Lusting & Start Living; Waves of God; Supernatural Fire; Poems that Propel the Planet; and God vs. Religion.

Paul’s compassion for people & passion to travel has taken him to over 50 countries of the world where he has had a tremendous impact. Paul has served in many war-torn, impoverished and tsunami stricken regions of the earth. His Dream-Maker Inc. is building dreams, breaking limitations & reviving nations.

Paul’s Breakthrough Seminars inspire, revive, awaken, impregnate with purpose, impart the fire of desire, catapult people into a new level of self-awareness, facilitate destiny discovery and dream fulfillment.

Contact Paul to minister, speak at your event or for life coaching:

RevivingNations@yahoo.com, 407-284-1705.

http://www.DreamMakerMinistries.com

http://www.CreativeCommunications.TV

Inside Information

Inside information
Illegal say some
As for me it is fun
When I get a hunch
Learn so very much
Whether over lunch
Or together with a bunch
Of prayerful prophets
Entrepreneurs for profit
Innovators who feel it
The waves of change
Market transitions
Repeatedly rearrange
Some think it strange
No I’m not deranged
Just intuitive deep within
This isn’t psycho babble
Neither some clever spin
I’ts the power of heaven
The spirit of revelation
Giving wise illumination
Indelible sensations
Profound creations
Divine articulation
Mighty manifestations
Insightful direction
Like an accurate radar
Identifying and exposing
Lie detection and deception
Moving me with inspiration
Beyond fearful intimidation
Transcending manipulation
Breaking countless barriers
Making me a revival carrier
This sweet inside information
From the Creator is fabulous
Reformative not ridiculous
Credible not incredulous
Father above cares for us
The Spirit within leads us
Speaks to and shows us
Gentle and peaceably
Never making a fuss
Serendipitous and smooth
God gets you in the groove
Guides you to the green
Like a magnetic machine
Attracting acumen and assets
Teaching you how to invest
Listen, learn, and resist
The noise of the media
The pull of the brokers
The push of fear peddlers
The frenzy of speculators
Draw back and go inside
Distinguish, discern, divide
Between the truth and false
The perceived and the real
Instinctively learn to feel
See and smell the deal
Get rid of the sales speel
Replace anxiety with creativity
Stress and strain with gain
Invite the knowing Holy Spirit
To fully come in Jesus’ Name
Make life a profitable game.

Paul Davis is a prophet, life purpose coach empowering people to prosper and live their dreams. Transcending problems and presumptions, Paul transforms individuals and organizations.

Paul is a worldwide minister, change master, and FL real estate agent. He is the author of several books including Breakthrough for a Broken Heart; Are You Ready for True Love; Waves of God; Supernatural Fire; Poems that Propel the Planet; and God vs. Religion.

Paul’s compassion for people & passion to travel has taken him to over 50 countries of the world where he has had a tremendous impact. Paul has served in many war-torn, impoverished and tsunami stricken regions of the earth. His Dream-Maker Inc. is building dreams, breaking limitations & reviving nations.

Paul’s Breakthrough Seminars inspire, revive, awaken, impregnate with purpose, impart the fire of desire, catapult people into a new level of self-awareness, facilitate destiny discovery and dream fulfillment.

Contact Paul:

RevivingNations@yahoo.com, 407-284-1705

http://www.CreativeCommunications.TV
http://www.DreamMakerMinistries.com