I AM

I am a complexity
I am a conduit
I am a Christian

contrary to popular belief
in other words
opposite of trendy faith
with all of my limbs
tolerable countenance
and normal functionality
I am a miracle
part human
part spirit
fully man
part past
part future
fully present
part testimony
part process
fully saved
part merit
part mistake
fully triumphant
out of darkness then light
weakness then might
blindness then vision
pride then submission
conceit then contrition
death black turned snow white through bloody red
one of many raised up from the dead
breathless creature to living soul
leaky heart to perfect whole
to Saint from sinner
from victim to victor
judgment to compassion
observation to action
stale and torpid affection to passion

I am a complexity
I am a conduit
I am a Christian

speaking the music of God’s heart
I am a sweet deal
a covenant between the Word
and the womb
the friend I am
to fatherless dreams
the joy I am
to sonless love
the tribute I am
to forgotten freedom
the pen I am
to scripture’s expression
the treasure I am
to perfect sacrifice
the promise I am
to crucifixion
the secret I am
to poetry
a place where evolution meets diplomacy
that clandestine chapter earth groans to see
the candle the seraphs come close to perceive
the lyric that only we humans can sing
the hymn that only we are: “Redeemed”
it is Christ in me the Hope of glory
yes Christ in we the Hope of glory
here I am to tell the story
written on flesh that once was stone
written by One who made me His own
written for more than I alone
an inverted heathen
a reversed reason
dust using oil in a vapor to please Him

I am a complexity
I am a conduit
I am a Christian

I am the fight that fear is afraid of
what Moses was made of
what Christ crushed the grave for
what Paul killed and died for
what Abraham sojourned, battled, and lied for
I am the blood, sweat, and tears of Gethsemane
the arrow of greater works shot from Calvary
the sermon on the mount
the weight of the cross
the purchase of pain
the new song sang
the salt of the earth
a city on a hill
the gates
the everlasting doors of Israel
I am a servant called to be king
a new creature built of old things
collected, converged, converted, conveyed
in order to be what the Father did say

I am a complexity
I am a conduit
I am a Christian

He’s Worthy

when i woke up this morning
i did not feel my bones
but knew there was life holding this house
i believed beyond what was beheld
and i knew i was going to live this day as if i could touch Him

what i have quantified is no longer contained
when the beginning and the end trade places
when limitation hitches a ride on a shooting star
never to land on my planet
never to become again more than a flash of an unanswered question mark
in the heart's tender recesses

i smell pain
and exchange it for the spice of joy
sprinkle it on the meat of pleasure
and chase it with a glass of ecstasy
for in Him i am made great through every affliction
my God is my need-
the Chasm wrought for glory
the Light too vast to fit
and the Person dwelling there
stars are born and die in my bosom
yet I am humbled and grateful to be a particle
honored to constitute a masterpiece

dust carries hope
and the vapor of my life
is a sweet fragrance
in the nostrils of humanity
and the galaxy
because I am standing in Him
and telling you
daring you to believe that
He
is
worthy
of His name

Berean Authors

My First Book!

You have not only seen evidence of what my first book may have to offer, You have already read several poems found in it. My first publication, "Process of Praise," a collection of 40+ of my best written works from Spring of 2006 to the new year of 2010, is now available along with several other authors from Berean at PublishAmerica's online bookstore: www.publishamerica.net. To go directly to my book, visit http://www.publishamerica.net/product91177.html.
As I'm sure you are likely aware of my book's publication and online availability, I send you this message with faith. That is, faith that what I have been graced to share with you has been at least a stimulation to your soul, and hopefully a blessing. One that you are free to reciprocate with support and sharing with your friends, romans, and countrymen.
With that in mind, I also would like to note that most of the authors also published by PublishAmerica are major influences on me. If you think I can write, you NEED to get in touch with the writing of Dr. Edward Donalson, III, J. E. Keels, and Nadine C. Keels. All three are available at the same store, but have earlier works that are must haves. "The Song of Nadine" is available at www.freshoil.30fold.com. You may also contact her staff at 206.251.3921, or yeahandamen@hotmail.com.
In addition, work of the aforementioned authors will be featured in "The Kingdom Monologues," a candid account of salvation in God's Kingdom, on May 29th at Berean Love & Bible Fellowship. Tickets are $10 in advance, $12 at the door. Contact Berean's administrator for more information at 253.946.4166. If there are any other questions, email my address at the bottom.

God Bless!

Lewis P. Bryon
biggestbryon@yahoo.com
Seattle, WA 98136

Still Thinking

Still Thinking

is tomorrow going to come?

waking up to the wrong place
in the perfection of the right time
with stale torment and surprising delicacy
i’m no longer cozy in my flesh

my malnourished thoughts have learned to detest my diet
and grown weary of the limitations installed
by the bitterness nuzzling into my open sores
seeping into polluted veins

waiting for “happened”
i find no pity
for I have seen that yesterday’s labor
and yesterday’s results
are not today’s expectation
more than feel
i watch these suicide tears scream out of my sockets
squeezing out of and falling from the mouth of fake hopelessness
pressuring my eyes from behind to a hazardous blur

no headaches
no inhuman rage
no farewell letters
only the Truth and i
meeting this and every moment to the face
threshing out the faintest scent of “quit”
piercing to the joint and marrow
discerning the thought and the intent
converting the soul
so less souls have excuse to seek life outside of the Light

i’m no longer comfy in the flesh
a lily playing too close to weeds
a dream sitting too close to death
a poem reading too close to distraction
an advantage walking too close to sloth
a breath at once caught
and drawn passed the black and white too fast to see the gray
and landed into the red chambers of redemption
chasing after me
finding God
chasing after God
finding me
grasping bounds that do not instead shackle me
but hold me to this discovery
mold me with recovery

i’m now restful in this flesh

Christ in me
the Hope of Glory

Enough Reason to Reach

motivation hides behind curtains in front of the window in a room on the floor I just turned old enough to explore without permission

those things closest to me should mean the most to me
being wrapped in passion
and fitting perfectly in the dreams that I mean to make true
...but they’re cold
so cold they are
as if undead
they move
yet no heat makes my pen cozy enough to dance without a care of who sees
still…
I find it’ll HAVE to be enough that the ones watching my every move
are trying to glean the smooth in my groove
and the strength in my swag
-and them I love.
their attention necessitates my literary outlet
to stem from a Godly inlet
so faith can inset
where it’s been long dormant and thought non-existent

in the patterns of old mats we sit on
my generation finds its paradigms
and our renaissance in the colorful gusto of sowing the new
and that’s enough
but only if today is tough enough to work though superfluous stuff to
seek
ask
knock
climb out of God’s hand
up His arm to His face
to feel for the joy of His smile and the vibration of His voice
to swim upstream the valves of His heart
looking for its beat
to look from His breath in this skin
and see the millions of children with glory inside them
waiting for us to pull it out
with articulate personification of passion on purpose on the platform of Christ.
I’m therefore moved
from my slough beyond what I have and through who I am to my hunger for more God
who is more than enough

Lest I Forget

breathing life air could never offer
seething with fervor from destiny’s first kiss
drinking words, thoughts, and dreams so lofty
sinking into fantasy’s untouched bliss

breaking away from yesterday’s fetters
taking flight with wings unfledged
finding it faulty to bypass the letter
and struggle for the spirit
weak and ‘unhedged’

coming back to Light with less than words
dumbly escaping and shaking off the murk,
glum, and sin that numbed me to what I heard:
“from a wretch undone to a finished work”

You saved me twice and kept me ever
took me over and taught me through
showed me today within forever…
I never want to close my eyes with You

who could love dry unyielding dirt
scarcely worth being called soil
and quench its places parched with hurt
beyond the strength of a million men’s toil?

who took a buried and repressed soul
revived and respired it back to its spirit
filled the voids and crevices to a whole
and reiterated purpose for ears to hear it?

my feet are grateful for order
my heart for issues anew
my hands for strength to span new borders
my worship for the love of You

even in alien seasons of trial
and moments of truth that threaten regret
I remember the cross, then rise from three day while
my glorious hope
lest I forget