Category: poem

(James 1:3-4) “Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” In this furnace I have shed my tears, lifted my voice, & cast my cares, now the trial begins, with my eye’s focused on the end I stand in the mist of the forging flame…

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Patiently Waiting

by Edward Taylor III

…(sigh)…

All I want LORD is some peace of mind , some peace in my time, time to relax, reflect, & reconnect with self, To self adjust cause perfection is a must;

God must have an extraordinary reason for my breath’n,“Be in tune” I keep thinking, “you’ll get there by faith understanding & grace;”

But what I’ve faced on this journey to my promise land, has not made me a fan of the trails I’ve endured, nor the ones yet to come,

So come what may, may God allow me to stay on this path of gold leading me to riches untold, knowledge unfolds mysteries, “cold peace!”, is my speech revelation speaks, truth explodes, & strong delusion grows quiet,

This small flame has turned into a RIOT OF PRAISE, which changes the tone of my complaining, My heart-felt real, my way now is sealed, so rejoice! & again I say rejoice for my voice has declared Gods good & complete works,

Yes – all this was, is , & will be worth it, for it’s all for my good that at the end my legacy will be perfect, perfectly established hand-crafted by the Masters hands THAT’s the testimony of this man…

She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. (Pro 3:15) this is…

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Elements of She

by Edward Taylor III

How long will the simple feast at the banquet of fools –

When it’s her insight they hunger for?

She possess a beauty which is to be more sought after than the rarest pearl in the sea.

She veil’s her face behind the shadow of words, to find her is to find understanding.

She walks in a garment meant for royalty.

She stands atop the highest peak calling out to those who need her compelling men to seek her.

Kings lust for her presence, rulers become beggars at her feet.

She is the guide leading men through the mist of choice-

When She spoke to Me…

her voice…

The very essence of reason.

She taught me her way’s;

She showed me great mysteries, & as I rested in her bosom..,

The waters of time stood still, frozen as a river caught in winters chill.

I soon fell in love with the warmth of her inspiration,

& when I awoke!

I found myself wed to her.

(…Sigh…)

awww-

Wisdom…

Ever have one of those moments where something you’ve thought about all of a sudden makes sence? It’s like a light bulb comes on in your head and you come to the realization of a great mystery, well this is a poem of one of those moments, this is an EPIPHANY ( A sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.) of ME…

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An Epiphany of ME

Edward Taylor III

God shines down on ME;

The sun smiles down on ME;

I can feel the rain drops of hope that fall to refresh weary dreaming…

ME;

Delighted gazes pierce the silver shaded sky,

Rays of praise parts the grays so I can see…

ME;

God shines down on ME;

The sun smiles down on ME;

Seeing the melody of life flow like musical notes on a page they show…

ME,

A mystery accompanied by blue nights & diamond days they play questions,

Who am I , who am I supposed to be, & most importantly, who did God create me to be?

The answers are revealed as God opens the seals, like an ancient book, exposing…

ME…

I look up to see God shining down on ME;

The sun smiling down on ME;

&

I…

Smile back…

And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat:But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren. (LK 22:31-32) We stand! We stand on the front lines of a battle which rages in our minds; there are times where it would “seem like” this battle goes ill, BUT TO GOD BE THE GLORY, this is a battle in a war that’s already WON, Therefore I stand with my arms raised & my fists clenched, my shout joining the symphony of victorious lifted voices as we declare to the enemy…

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You Can’t Sift Me!

By Edward Taylor III

What?!

What are these thoughts trying to penetrate the sanctuary of my mind? What are these invading pressures trying to compel me to lend my members to them?

Pictures of enticing images parade themselves before my mind’s eye. I feel the heat of the fiery darts as they attempt to ignite the senseless passion lying dormant with in my flesh;

Then I catch sight of a second adversary lurking in the shadows; heavy with gloom are the dark unsettling clouds of depression, circling me like a pack of ravenous wolves,

Cold & thoughtless is this spirit with no remorse it seeks to destroy all that I hold dear, then I hear it, the unsheathing of a sword wielded by the third agent of darkness sent against me;

Offence is its name & with carefully chosen words it takes aim with the intent of unleashing ego, anger, & pride, the three-headed beast I keep under lock & key;

I have to stay on guard because with well placed & timed offensive words I could be thrown off my highway falling victim to the three-headed beast. I feel a bead of sweat fall from my brow as the raging battle takes place with in me;

Taking up my spiritual sword I cast down every ungodly thought that tries to exalt itself above my King, remembering the promise I have, my faith begins to compass me about as a shield strengthening my hope quenching all thoughts contrary, as overwhelming forgiveness overruns all offences,

I begin to see piercing rays of light penetrate through the darkness, I exchange this heavy spirit for the garment of praise, I rejoice at the remembrance that my LORD Jesus prayed for my faith to fail not, I shabock my King, then with a loud shout I let out my decree of victory,

“You can’t sift Me”!!!

The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.(Isa 61: 1-3) We all have a stage, we all have a message, we all have a purpose in the body of Christ; some will stand with a microphone, some will sit with a pen, But we’ll all in our own unique way loudly say ” For the glory of Christ”…

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This is Why I Came

by Edward Taylor III

Who am I?

Well let me explain.

See, you can call me dominion, cause I’m fresh out of religions prison, My boots tread upon serpents & my head bares a crown.

The World-

that’s my kingdom,

The microphone-

that’s my queen,

& this stage here…!

This is where my words paint pictures & then with a melody I delicately places them in your mental mind frame, to be contained, safely tucked away in your dreams.

This is why I came,

Screaming like a wild man in the wilderness!

Messenger is in my name, I was given purpose new life found in divine service,

so how could I be nervous,

This is my stage!

This is where speakers deliver keys which open doors to clear blue skies & open meadows;

This is where wisdom’s cries are amplified exposing freedom for the mind to run & explore.

This is why I came,

For my name also contains Gods salvation,

& yes,

I can hear what your soul is craven,

No more vanity it’s say’n:

no more dreams slain by thieves in the night, no more hopeless delusions & empty promises,

no more excuses,

no more tears in the rain;

GOD-

I only crave change….

Well, this is why I came;

Who am I?

I AM Gods messenger of salvation,

&

I’ve come to this stage to deliver to you your liberty;

For this is why I came….

This poem came after the reveling open heart surgery God preformed during the latest Together Ministry; Much was revealed to me as a husband, things I never considered, things I’ ve grown to take for granted in my marriage; so I wrote this poem as my official apology to my wife, I love you sweetheart, & I apologize…

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I Didn’t Know

Edward Taylor III

I didn’t know how my ravenous lust would put you in a rush to lend your heart & loan your trust.

I didn’t know that the promise of that day would put you under a curse called ” The Christian Wife of Today”.

I didn’t know how I took you for granted forcing you to obey a husbands harsh commandments.

I didn’t know that the ring would cause a sting from the nine tailed whip my tongue could fling, putting you in slave bondage when your supposed to be my queen;

I didn’t know how far I fell when I failed to source you love; I didn’t know that I would be the cause for your eyelid waterfalls.

I didn’t know that I was the one who was supposed to fill your emotional tank, instead of attending to you I took my seat & commenced to drink, watching NFL highlights, while missing the key to my life…

So I wrote this to apologize, please let MY hand wipe away the tears from your eye’s,

Let me be your king who commands the Oceans to relinquish their pearls to you,

Let me be the man who satisfies your inner girl;

Please let me repay you for the time you’ve lost.

I repent to you & accuse myself, because, without you my good is lost & my favor meets death;

So I ask for your forgiveness with a sincere & sorrowful breath–

Please forgive me my wife…,

I Didn’t Know….

This poem was inspired by the powerful healing ministry my marriage is exposed to. I’m thankful that I’m blessed to say my wife & I are stronger than ever. I’m open with this poem because it’s my hope that it will spark a fire in those who read this, and in those who share with me the same desire for a successful marriage . – Edward T.

Sometimes we get so caught up in the urgency of completing our task, trying to grab that last piece of the puzzle that will bring everything together in our lives that we find ourselves forgetting to commit our ways to the Lord, we find ourselves lost lacking Gods direction, we find ourselves burning with intense…

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URGENCY

By Edward Taylor III

My sense of urgency is burning me,

My tears fall with intense fervency,

The hunger for purpose is yearning to bursting free,

With my eye’s of faith I dissect my path with the accuracy of a surgeons craft;

I can see past the clouds of gray looking forward to my sunny day;

So I pray with expectation, actively wait’n, for the day I will change this nation,

Realizing greatness is patient I turn from frustration, depression, & unrighteous aggression,

I calm my spirit that I may learn my lesson, immersing myself into wisdom,

Preparing my mind to comprehend vision;

MY SENSE OF URGENCY IS BURNING ME SO,

My anxiousness is taunting me like Edgar’s crow,

NEVERMORE!

NEVERMORE!

Nevermore will I allow the trial of my patience to vex me so heavily ;

My urgency is urging me to launch out before my time,

But I will not trade my pearl for swine, this purpose is mine, which I commit to the LORD,

& WE’LL ALL SEE IT…

In his time…

Getting tired of the radio blasting the hottest & latest artist only, all day everyday, missing the classics I grew-up with in the 80’s & 90’s; Seeing how the artist coming out today have no depth to what their saying, it seems like all people want to do is just dance these day’s, call me old fashioned, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to dance but what about the music that moved you to think: To think about the way things are around you: To think about life and how you can change it for the better. So I put this call out to all the young men & women with the passion for a pen & a pad, go deeper in your thought let your inspiration inspire others & lets start a movement back to the…

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Age of Poetry

by Edward Taylor III

Let me compose a question & let the melody provoke you to thought,

Can we make it back?

Back to the days, back in the day, when imagination was

accepted truth;

Back when honesty flowed off the lips with pure innocence,

Back when we climbed the ladder of innovation to reach the peak of creativity,

To inject words that caused people to say –

“Man that really speaks to me…”

I hope to see those day’s again, before man craved the taste for sin,

Before man sold his gift for a slice of bread & an illegal kiss…

Can we make back to this?

Back to when words had power, back before the radio projected mindless chants five times an hour,

Leaving me sour, asking questons like-

” where’s the freshness” ?

“Where’s the voices that spoke of love, heartache, struggle,

& triumph” ?

“Where’s the passion for the truth, the lust for righteousness” ?

Has it been abandoned?

Lost in the mix of money, women, jewels, & drugs…

Fame…?

Is that what you sold your birthright for?

Your moment in the sun, your 15 minutes a top the plato #1…

Come on son…

Can we get back to the age where we treasured the old

& protected the new?

Back to the age where words on a page resounded throughout

eternities gaze;

Can’t you hear wisdom’s cry,

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

To me;

Come back to the age of renaissance,

Come back young King,

Come back to the age where poetry sings…

Dusk, So often we pass through this moment of the day, so engulfed in our activities, we rarely find the time to appreciate the amazing gift of masterful creativity displayed for us at the end of each day; I urge you to take some time to stare out your window for just a moment, take a breath, be grateful, & slip away into…

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SUNSETS’ PORTRAIT

By Edward Taylor III

A rarely captured masterpiece begins to form with the skillful touch of a painter’s brush,

Clouds lightly shaded with a whisper of rose line a blue highlighted evening sky.

A hint of pollen rides upon the breeze of this soft summers’ eve.

The sun begins to retire its post in wake of night’s new moon-

The horizon dances with the colors of autumn as day fades into night;

The rush of life begins to slow..;

The last burst of orange reclines to memory, & just as briskly as it arrives

It sets.

All that is left is the reflection of what once was

A Day…,

A Time…,

A Life…

All concluded by a moment under the shadow of Sunsets’ Portrait…

“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)