Author: taylorspoetrycorner

I have a passion for Life and Poetry, which is why I pour so much into what I write. My hopes are as I go through life and document Life, Adventure, and Desires through poetry. I hope that whoever ventures on to Taylor's Poetry Corner will be uplifted and inspired to live and enjoy Life, for All it brings.... I am a SURGE365 Member www.hopetrips.com and a VORTEX promoter ( Discount Travel booking site). I am now offering those who follow Taylor's Poetry Corner the opportunity to see the beauty and diversity of this great World we share. Follow the provide links for more information and ENJOY YOUR DREAM TRIPS

Dream Day or Day Dream? Is a poem I entered for a contest for FORD Motor Company,The winning prize was your poem or story becoming a commercial and you would win a 2010 Ford Mustang. Well I didn’t win so I’ve decided to post my entry to see what you guys think about it; is it a winner? You tell me, this is my…

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Dream Day or Day Dream?

By Edward Taylor III

As I Wake up in the morning there’s only one thing on my mind, my first drive in my supercharged beast of a mustang;

I ignore the demands of my wife & kids until I hear the voice of my Angel ask me if I can make a diaper run.

Without an answer I grab my keys & head out the door embraced by the clear blue sky & the burning rays of sun shine.

I look at my gleaming custom oval blue pony as the sunlight bounces off its black & chrome 20 inch track shoes.

Opening the door I slide inside & get hugged into position by the black leather & blue suede bucket seats,

I slide the key into the ignition awakening all eight hundred force-fed ponies,

I fondle the gearshift into the desired position, simultaneously grabbing my sunglasses,

As I drive up to a fresh red light I begin to notice that no one else is on the road with me, an evil sinister grin finds a place on the face of a saint,

The engine revs to screaming heights, the light turns green, & I stomp the go pedal & disappear into a cloud of Smokey rubber, at the same time a thought passes through my mind,

“Man, I Love Day’s Like This”!!!

YES! Summer has finally hit the North West, so to celebrate this special occasion I wrote this. I hope you enjoy it as you take a journey to the beach with me on a beautiful…

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SUMMERS DAY

BY Edward Taylor III

The scent of French Fries mingled with the pollen of newly budding flowers fill the air,

juicy burgers & sweet teas followed by waffle cones dripping their sweet tears liter the tables of board walk bistros,

While sun drenched bodies are massaged by the clear blue sky, Cool waves run onto the sea-shore interrupting a barefoot stroll along the beach;

A pleasant conversation takes place in the background, Two lovers holding hands celebrate their 52nd summer together, while a young man kneels to his love under the shade of a tree;

The sound of classic beauties, rumbling by, in a parade so pristine they can’t help but to catch the twinkle of an eye;

Roller blader’s & concrete surfers roll by, as the laughter of two best friends filter through the noise of their favorite summer song;

Not a cloud in site to accompany children flying their kites,

I smile as I turn & walk away, my heart swollen with joy, As I’m blessed to say,

Thank you LORD for this beautiful Summers day…

“Where there is no vision, the people perish” (Pro 29:18) your dreams, your visions, are the very essence & fabric of Gods purpose & intent for your life. So many spend their lives yearning but never seeking for the answer to these questions “what is my purpose?” or “Why am I here?” Instead you spend your time & your energy in frustration living “paycheck to paycheck” ignoring the cry of your heart. This is a poem of that very thing; a poem of what happens…

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When a dreamer Stops Dreaming

By Edward Taylor III

What happens when a dreamer stops dreaming?

When there are no more goals to hold his gaze,

His passion a prisoner behind the bars of selfish rage,

Nightmares of failure haunt his sleepless nights,

Frustration begins to consume his starved will to fight;

His expressions are now empty,

They’ve become idle words on a page;

All he wanted was for people to listen & be inspired,

But no one paid any mind to the gift that he gave,

So the dreamer stopped dreaming in the process of time,

His pen left useless, no more thoughts to line;

So what happens when a dreamer stops dreaming?

This is a question I ask myself;

The answer to which remains unknown,

Simply because this dreamer is determined to dream,

Even if he is destined to dream Alone.

Keep dreaming & keep your vision a live GOD BLESS- “For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry”. (Hab 2:3)

(ROM. 8:26-27) Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God. To be intouch with those who suffer among you: To feel the flooding of emotion when your co-laborer obtains their victory: To understand the heart of those that surround you is to understand…

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The Cry

BY EDWARD TAYLOR III

Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, with my hands raised I receive the weight of responsibility as I’m ushered into the presence of God: Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, I suffer the pain of my brother, the anguish of the mother, I perceive the sorrow upon my sister, I peer into the burning desire for an uncorrupted purpose of a fathers child; Then I hear their cries, a sound so loud it’s like thunder when it cracks the sky; emotions erupt out of souls when their cries explode like a volcano; hopeful spirits waiting to prevail shake with the pain of a mothers travail: Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, marking the moment the wailing begins, my shoulders bear the weight of every prayer requested, this is the intercessors burden, it is here we are tested, this is the cry: Strong cries & tears rise up with-in, drops of fervency smite the ground again & again, our screams are unleashed, in the cry we become priest, we stand in the gap to shield the flock from the enemies attacks; We stand posted on our watch, waiting & watching, our eye’s full of expectation; our praises seed the clouds of promise, our strong cries invite the windfall of healings, & our tears display the sincerity of our hearts, as we take up the cry of God’s people before our King. I approach the throne of Christ heavily laden with Strong cries & tears that rise up out of me…

Even so we, when we were children, were in bondage under the elements of the world. But when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ. (Gal 4: 1-7) – This poem came to me on a cold breezy night; the wind blew chilling me down to my bones then I remembered what God has said & I spoke ” I’m not subject to the weak and beggarly elements”, I remembered who controls the wind; I looked up & though it was cold & windy the stars where shining, I was reminded of the one who gave them their place; The awesomeness of our father was brought to mind & so I wrote…

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Weak & Beggarly

By Edward Taylor III

I am not subject to the weak & beggarly elements for its MY LORD, who commands the wind,

The Lightning reports to him & receives its instruction,

The Ocean is tamed at its sandy borders awaiting its orders,

The whole host of heaven hastens to perform his word,

At the fierceness of his decree the thunder claps, the trees applaud, & the earth is struck silent in awe…

“ Creation stands in agreement.”

The Wind is his messenger delivering his judgments from the throne of the Most Holy,

His sent one blows cold & true cutting deep into the soul, cold as the chill from a harsh winter’s breeze.

I stand in the mist of this tempest reminded of who I am…

“ I am not subject to the weak & beggarly elements for it’s my LORD who is

GOD! ”

LORD, how are they increased that trouble me! Many are they that rise up against me. Many there be which say of my soul, there is no help for him in God. Selah. But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head. I cried unto the LORD with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. Selah. I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the LORD sustained me. (PS 3:1-5) To know that the LORD, who all glory is do, has & will keep my very life, purpose, & soul in his divine mercy & grace, is more than enough of a reason to praise and extol his most Holy name this is…

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WHY I PRAISE

BY LIMITLESS 

My Spirit rests, as I’m relieved from my press,

“ALLELUJAH”!

Praises lift;

The seeded clouds begin to drip their abundance of blessing

An up draft circulates filling each drop of promise with faith,

The shower of grace comforts my face; I’m brought low lying abased before my King.

A joining of corporate worship uplifts my soul into an overwhelming state of adoration for my LORD,

His goodness;

His mercy;

His love;

Towards ME,

Is the reason,

I praise.

This poem for me stands as a reminder of the awesomeness of God & his infinite wisdom. How nothing was made without God’s thought & decree. I ask you to think about what you see around you, no matter how beautiful or terrifying, all that is, was, & will be has been preordained before the existence of ALL our minute minds witness & comprehend on a daily basis.

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(PS 8:3-4) Rings true when the writer testifies of the magnificent glory of GOD; reminding us how we all should stand in such awe

“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;

What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him”?

Before

By Edward Taylor III

Before the establishment of time,

Before the Earth was founded,

Before the stars were placed all around it,

Before the land parted the deep,

Before man learned the power of speech,

Before the decay of sin,

Before death crept in,

Before the lamb was slain,

Before Christ endured the pain,

Before the forgiveness of shame,

Before there where days,

GOD IS…

Be thankful today for what God has done for you: be thankful today for what he has kept you from. Realize how one wrong decision could have left your life lost… Trapped in…

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Addiction

By Edward Taylor III

Souls wandering the streets, no home, no rest, slaves to their feet: feet worn & bruised beating the pavement.

Souls searching for their escape from realities harsh truth, addicted to the fantasy, addicted to hopeless freedom & its seductive touch, addicted to pleasure, sins sudden rush…

Souls only satisfied with one moment in time, but lost forever, Souls wandering the streets, no home, no rest, slaves to their feet.

Do you see them…?

Do you see them wandering? Alive while yet dieing, ravenous for the thrill, the feeling of flying:

Flying away from the hurt & the pain, flying away from the memories of the shame, which haunts every sober moment…

Souls wandering the streets, no home, no rest,

slaves to their feet…

The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. (PS 121: 5-8) Even in the worst of times God is always there to pick you back up and continue you on your road to greatness.

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A Sorrowful Dance

By Edward Taylor III

A Sorrowful dance in the wind, performed by an excluded soul lost in sin, tears fall as pirouette’s call to the lost soul,

hopelessness twirls with blind perception, darkness calls with a malicious obsession.

Broken inside, strength subsides, to a sorrowful dance in the wind.

“Where is the comfort, the loving embrace, who will wipe these tears from my face?”

Under the stars you can see the dancer scarred:

Leaping to grasp the joy seemingly so far out of reach, distant as the mocking moon, silent & sweet,

Who is this that dances with sorrow in the wind?

The motions of this dancers’ gloom ignite the fierceness of question: “Where is my hope, where is my solace, where…

WHERE?”

The ground is struck, pounded by clinched fists,

“NO MORE!”

Is the cry as the dancer sits, drenched in sweat & self-regret: with eyes to the sky & arms raised the dancer is lifted up by the wind to dance once again,

Then a whisper is heard in the night sky:

“Hold on my dancer your salvation draws nigh”…

This poem is a culmination of things I went through, things I’ve heard, & things I witnessed other people go through in 2009. This poem for me was an outlet: a way for me to describe how difficult it was for many of us to keep going when so much was against us. I know for myself that if it wasn’t for God’s mercy; I probably wouldn’t be here writing this right now…just keeping it real… THANK YOU LORD!

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2009

By Edward Taylor III

Picture seasons without smiles; only nights filled with tears accompanying sleep; seasons full of frustration & disappointments.

Long awaited promises depleting patience gripping to hope asking God-

“Will I make it”?

If I didn’t believe I surly would have fainted.

I’ve been told morning is coming, if you know the day I ask you,

“NAME IT”!

Seeking for the day when this pain lifts, the closer I get to the end the harder it seems, as I seek Refuge in my hiding place my peace departs from me.

my mind is haunted by the screams of those
travailing in the storm anticipating the birth of purpose.

One last breath before the matrix is broken & the cycle ends,

I see the breaking of the dawn,

Then I hear a voice say,

“Welcome to 2010”…