Matrix Moments

Media Moments: Question, reflect, connect

Salty Children

Salty Children are classroom spice 
important flavour in our life,
Salty Children turn white when shaken,
and enjoy sizzling bacon,
Salty Children like small spaces
but grind their teeth with angry faces,
Salty Children love melting snow
dancing in drifts makes them glow,
They love sunbathing on hot beaches
leaving white outlines
where their body leaches,
Salty Children are often 
misunderstood
when people expect
sugar sweet good,
Adding weight is not
their thing
Zest and zing 
is what they bring.
WALT: to write a strong poem in the style of the "mismatched poetry" form and demonstrating command of some literary devices.

Success criteria:
  • To choose a mismatched noun paired with an adjective or verb.
  • Able to deliberately use and describe two literary devices within my poem.
  • Create a list of mismatched phrases and choose the best 6-8
  • Able to craft the phrases together and break lines in well thought out places,
  • Be able to publish the poem with illustrations that follow creative commons zero guidelines.

I used the literacy devices of metaphors, alliteration, repetition and finished with simple rhyme to emphasise my final point.

Stones Throw

As Jesus rode
towards the city,
Towards a future
really only known by Him,
the noise...
the celebration crowd
lining the streets
of Jerusalem
palm leaves waving, shouting
The embarrassed Pharisees' hate
threaded the tumult,
But the crowd 
was lost to them 
in this moment;
for a change,
in this time's fragment,
people had touched
the truth.

"Even the stones
will cry out."

Hide the cross 
of Easter,
Smother it in chocolate
and hopping bunnies,
drown out thought,
hide it in holiday events,
Laugh to make it irrelevant.

And in alternate reality
the crowd transformed 
"Stone Him
Crucify, crucify
kill Him on that cross"
erected on stone,
Nailed with our sins
Beaten with
the virus
of our human chaos,
bury Him
in our sins,
Bury Him
deeper in stone.

"Even the stones
will cry out."

"Even the stones
will cry out"
Shouting of God's glory
Shouting resurrection power
and the stone rolls aside,
Revealing
Jesus, risen
Jesus, death breaker
The king of love
the beautiful holy lamb.

Now the Rock
of salvation
has restored me to
Total freedom
Total innocence,
Past, present, future
a completed regenerated
beautiful creation,
new born life,
I know God,
my fresh Spirit
flowing living rivers,
transformed forever from
eternity established within,
My soul released
My gifts released.

#chocolate, #christian, #cross, #donkey, #easter, #holiday, #identity, #jesus, #Jerusalem, #palm, #poetry, #poems, #resurrection, #spokenword, #stones, #truth
Christian SPoken Word Poem Easter, Palm Sunday

Shadows Inside Out

In a vast universe room
We are picked up
By a giant hand
Carefully placed on the glass slide.
Lights blaze on
And our opacity lowers
Until self is revealed,

Shadows inside out.
Is there something bigger? What is it? High Resolution Version

Who is He?


Who is Jesus? Was he real?.… High Resolution Version
Jesus
Who is He?
Figment illusion,
Great person
Just human,
Deluded leader
or more...

History maker,
He existed
believed by Muslim,
Christians alike
That he walked our Earth,
But more...

Could He be
who He said He was?
One risen from the dead
To change lives,
To show the way,
To be the way
Who His disciples died for,
2000 years of truth?

even more...
Could Jesus
be calling you,
Loving you personally
Knowing you intimately,
intricately
Not just out there
but wanting,
To be with you
Be in you
Time with you,
Challenging you
Loving you freely.

Your possibilities...

Omega Christians

The courage to step out - do you hear God's call.… High Resolution Version
The wire stretches,
thin snake of meaning
over a chasm of nothingness,
Voices, vices scream,
neon lights beckon
tell me I'm a fool,
All attempting to make me fall.
I edge forward
step by step
the wind is cold.
It seems strange,
I swear I hear my own voice
telling me to stop
to give up
to relax and fall,
discover a better place.
Unsure the voices below
distract
I do not really listen to God,
I'm self angry
tired
I turn to the Word
"And now - all glory to Him
who alone in God, who saves
us through Jesus Christ
our Lord;
yes, splendour and majesty
all power and authority are His
from the beginning; His they are
and His they evermore will be.
And He is able to keep you
from slipping and falling away,
and to bring you, sinless and perfect,
into His presence
with mighty shouts of everlasting joy.
Amen."
In the quiet of my mind
God speaks,
"Close your eyes
then step out and trust me."

CLOSE MY EYES!

There in the black cold
my faith grows,
as I step out
the tightrope becomes
a glorious road.

The Bride's Smile

The imagery of the church as the bride is a theme throughout the bible.… High Resolution Version
I can't help but 
inmost smile
as voices praise,
drums rhythm ,
Hands raise,
Music builds,
Songs from souls rejoice,
Worshipping together
Wild, loved and free
we dance in eternal grace,
Tied in time
Beyond the moments of now
to an empty grave,
To the powerful resurrection,
To love deep, 
vast beyond comprehension.

The story
His glory,
Covenants through time's history
God's mystery,
Pursued
Secured,
Beheld
Held,
Treasured
Gathered,
Precious;
Transformed
Reformed,
Purified
Revived,
Identity 
Authority,
Peace
Release,
Provision
Protection,
Bride
beside.


Bride of Christ
Know your husband...
Turn willing
Look to Him,
Your love's heart,
Adore Him,
Gaze deep,
Shine!
Shine!
Shine
In the power
of His Spirit,
Shine
In His glory
Shine!

Thin Darkness

Ever stood in the dark on the beach and waited for a sunrise… High Resolution Version
Darkness has 
stolen my heart, 
time falls to 
single 
piano notes 
trembling in the air,
My mind reasoning
and yet not mine,
I'm waiting, not waiting, 
thinking, not thinking, 
wanting, but not.
Watching ocean currents 
and a tide washing 
my heart bleached
to the shore, 
In the tight black night,
standing silent, 
leaning to the whisper 
of waves stroking the beach, 
the quiet 
cutting the busy
mess noise, tangle of life, 
sharp to a midnight solitude 
lone vigil.

The black night fractures,
jigsaw pieces
breached by thin pink light,
echo shapes mould 
in my heart, 
then reform
creating wholeness-
completion,
my minds eye
sees the changing sea
and my inside spirit
wrapped in now
warm silence.

The wind will rise 
and howl of life's strength, 
the song of forces 
will heighten to a crescendo 
and my midnight solitude
will blaze hope
in the distant golden line…. 
Creator of light
Timeless from God.

Bubbles and Candyfloss

When life is routine
Same old-school,
Busy strangles time
to thin strips of meaning,
Connections of place and people
emaciated to shallow smiles;
Hiding realities and struggles,
and when I spend time
with my God
I bring
bubbles and candyfloss,
Lies and platitudes,
Small bits of me,
A house of hidden nothing
dressed as a fashion runway.

Can I step back?
Can I kneel and wait?
Can I stop to be me?
What do I fear?

Can I hear?
the call to confess
Bring you the real,
In your truth
agree with you
that I am wrong,
Bring you the sin,
that you desire to wrap
in flowing forgiveness arms,
To pure cleanse,
Infusing love that I cannot
be separated from.

The paradox!
In confession to you
In giving self to you
I am freed
soul and mind.

Free and forgiven
by my King and Saviour!

Goliath

I wish
just once
that someone would hear
my cry,
In the heart of this place,
alone pain,
Three deep
bruising pain,
It seems,
the more God rises
the more I shrink inward,
Drawn by the voice
but somehow
out
seems unreachable,
now even more;
how can I stand
How can I think
in the madness?
And even in this moment
the spiral catches a
death train of thoughts,
I can see ahead
the bridge is out,
Canyon boulders smashing
in storm river surge
severing supports to life
Leaving disaster broken
rails,
beyond the torture
bent metal,
the dark chasm plunge,
future inevitable
future blind
future bonded,
can't stop in time
can't stop time
Can't get off -out.

Handcuffed to fate,
The giant Goliath
looms,
laughs,
leers,
grows bigger,
pounding the iron
Weapons bloodied
steel already hooked
into my mind,
Problem unsolvable,
Death only to be embraced.

Something I heard?
"Death where is your sting?"
And I hear echoes,
Goliath sneers:
"Death is your noose"
"Death is let loose"
"Death is your smile"
"Death is your trial"
"Death fake shouts"
"Death is your doubts"
"Death is your prison"
"Death is your poison"
"Death is your reason"
"Death is your treason"
Underneath my skin
my skull laughs,
I can't save my life!

What would happen
if I opened my mouth,
Bitter...
Dryness of throat
trying to strangle
even this hope?
What would happen if I
opened my heart?
Lived for and with
something greater,
discovered a purpose
bigger than anything before.
Bitter..can there be truth
Can I believe?

Maybe...
if Jesus rose
if his love was so vast
his cross power so eternal
that he would easily say,
"Death where is your sting?"
and He could reach
across time,
Touch me
Change me
Hope me
Free me,
And I could truly live?

Time is a fleeting blink...
connected to my future...

How small did I think,
With Sunday tranquilizer gone,
I see with new eyes
the past,
No longer will I
cut off my destiny,
for God arrives in this now,
Grace an open door,
to gift me my future,
lies of circumstance
shrivel in the Light,
The truth in now,
Defeats any Goliath,
Grace inside far bigger
than the outside battle...

And I laugh...
Dance...
Anointed the beginning
turning to glory.

Without Blame

If every mistake
Every dishonesty
was recorded, held, kept
stored for future blame;
"Oh you've done it again,"
"Why do I always do this?"
Would the friendship last?
marriage last?
who could stand?
would self survive?

Can I cover
in activity, work?
Can I hide
in success, confidence?
Can I soothe
in sex, food?
Can I release
in sport, shopping?
Can I kill
in war, hate?
Can I forget
in drugs, alcohol?
Can I pretend
in family, love?
All is meaningless, random.
The sea rolls heavy
with turgid blood
of the dead,
living souls drown.

Out of the depths I cry 
nightmare pain torn,
My whole being waits,
Suspended apart,
closed, open.

Can I put hope in God?

Revelation 16:3
How do our mistakes affect us? How do we cover what we do? Check out "Without Blame"

Fractured Margins

On the fractured margins 
of belonging
the homeless drift,
Tiredness seeps 
chilling hope
unraveling possibilities
to single points of survival;
the need for the night,
Next meal
A dollar
A place to sleep.
Surrounded by a 
world of addiction
to money, fame, 
power, games, 
self,
Surrounded by
glass panes of buildings
pains of people,
in these reflected mirrors
the street seems simpler.

Starting Thoughts: Why does life on the streets seem simpler for some? Why is it an escape?
Poem Topic Tags:
#addiction, #homeless, #hopes, #love, #poor, #power, #reality, #reallife, #seeker, #self,
Posting Tags: #artist, #christian, #creativewriting, #instawrite, #poems, #poetry, #poetsofinstagram, #poetryisnotdead, #poetrycommunity, #poetryinmotion, #spilledink, #spokenword, #typewriter, #videos, #wordsmith, #writing, #writinglife, #writerscommunity, #writerscorner, #writersofinstagram,
Spoken Word Poem on how life on the streets can be simpler

Shadow Struggles

Surrounded in dark
I know this blackened room
sharp objects of my life
hurting corners, shapes unseen
hidden
destructive,
I'm stumbling 
over the same things
again and again
as I seek a way out.
Just finding the switch
seems so hard,
Is it safer just to sit
alone in this dark?

Shifting shadows
of others
all around me,
do they wait,
hidden,
for the same reasons?

Starting Thoughts: Does life seem to be a darkened room with no way out, and as you stumble you see the same shadows of others. Do others feel the same as you?
Poem Topic Tags: #apathy, #black, #darkness, #destruction, #hope, #hurt, #problems, #risk, #safer, #seeker, #shadows, #sharp, #surrounded, #trapped.
Posting Tags: #artist, #christian, #creativewriting, #instawrite, #poems, #poetry, #poetsofinstagram, #poetryisnotdead, #poetrycommunity, #poetryinmotion, #spilledink, #spokenword, #typewriter, #videos, #wordsmith, #writing, #writinglife, #writerscommunity , #writerscorner, #writersofinstagram,
Struggles in darkness - are you alone? Spoken Word Poetry

Death's Dance

Age has taken
smooth and replaced
with sags and wrinkles,
Outer strength
stolen by brittleness, 
tiredness, weakness,
relaxed breathing
now shallow and hard,
we know the doctor’s
pronouncements,
we know the miracle
worker,
Yet at this moment
time sets itself aside,
as heaven touches close
to earth,
wiping aside the curtain 
challenging life 
with impending death,
Tendrils of history;
family and friends
wrap loving into the room,

and a hospital unit
is transformed,
A reality of eternity
births,
and it seems
like the world 
takes a final breath,
How can the patient
be so peaceful, confident?
How can she smile and say,
"I'll see you all later?"
knowing what she is in?

You see the personal
power and love of Jesus,
enveloping her heart,
carrying her spirit,
a harmony
closing this realness.

Loved one
Dance into eternity.

Starting Thoughts: Watching a friend or loved one die always brings a lot of questions. I have watched a number of people die and some are amazing!
Poem Topic Tags: #aging, #christian, #death, #faith, #jesus, #love, #old, #reality, #reallife, #seeking
Posting Tags: #artist, #creativewriting, #instawrite, #poems, #poetry, #poetsofinstagram, #poetryisnotdead, #poetrycommunity, #poetryinmotion, #spilledink, #spokenword, #typewriter, #videos, #wordsmith, #writing, #writinglife,
#writerscommunity , #writerscorner, #writersofinstagram,
Old Age Spoken word on death and dying

Light

Emitted and absorbed
light,
obvious and mysterious,
These glimpses
create more questions.

Surface afterglows,
in evening air
Sunset,
now
gloomy place
colours removed.
City lights glow
sky masking
three thousand
hesitant pinpricks,
Cosmic energy
flung
clusters and scatters
Universe wide.

Particles float on
turbulent atmosphere,
Light is bent,
Stars twinkle.
This poem came from a search at first on light, then sunrises and finally stars.
WALT: To write a poem that communicates creatively my thoughts.
Success Criteria:
  • The words we pick fit together
  • The ideas work together line by line
  • To use punctuation to enhance the meaning and help the reader.
  • I have added my own thoughts to put in my voice.
  • To credit the sources that I used.
My Soul Christian Poetry

My Soul

My soul 
connected to,
loved in,
turned inside out
cries worthy,
Every fibre
exalts Jesus,
exalts the name;
exalted majesty
exalted God,
Worships the great;
the great I am,
Yeshua...
above all else 
beyond space
outside time.

He calls me-
all of me,
He knows me-
all of me,
and this me-you
is who
He wants,
who He
forgives, restores, 
empowers.
Beautiful the Word,
Glorious His name.
We are
baptised into The King-
into the covenant,
returning to the Father
for grace,
submitted
close in union,
trusting
for saturating Spirit
a fire,
listening to quiet
manifestations of
God's words
into our life;
Not my will
But yours Lord,
Simply surrendered.

How wonderful;
His unchanging grace,
His unchanging promises,
His deep, deep love.
Remain in Him.

Where will we 
go today, Lord?
Where is today's call?
My Soul Christian Poetry

Where I'm From

Days happy playing lone
Climbing the umbrella weeping elm
spreading over front lawn,
my ship at sea,
clambering the mast
hiding behind leaf sails,
weighing chances of breaking leg
jumping from high to ground,
Our house behind
white roughcast
home perched
on Dunedin hills.

Pine trees march
rough barked
up the long dirt drive
of the neighbour’s
mystery mansion,
hectares of
native forest exploration
tracks over fallen trees
through gullies, streams, cockabillies
and fresh-water pale lobsters,
Dad’s spade in hand
digging ferns
to transplant,
creating my dream
new forest bush
in our front garden,
sneaking sweet apples from
orchard trees gone wild
growing gamely near
the stone block mansion,
an edge of danger-
I heard once
an apple thief got hit
with a shotgun blast-
salt pellets stinging his butt,
I tell the story many times
and I cross the boundary
again for my sweet thrill treat,
On hills behind our fence
plump blackberries hanging
from tangled thorn vines,
toy bucket in hand
pick one, eat one.
lips-fingers stained purple.

Our first family
New car smell
Cortina plastic seats
Our 20 miles Ford
parked next
to chicken coup
in freshly cleaned garage.

Dad’s garden -
me blister digging across
the hill quarter acre section,
carrot soldiers
potato mounded rows,
peas and beans
exposing pod life on
on stakes of string twine,
witches copper hat brewing
sea kelp secret recipe
to fertiliser coax the big ones,
his proud saving money world
my moaning not again world.

Dark cold balcony
facing night swathed
Kaikorai valley,
lights in windows
across the void-
are others watching like me?
wrapped in blanket
snug to cold winter fingers
of starry night,
fireworks cascading across
house lights, dim grey sky,
hours gazing.

Our cellar
Dad’s world
of "one day
it will be useful",
exploring to find a treasure
moving the tired memories
to discover nothing,
but still dreaming-
one day I will be rich.

The same cellar where
the two brothers
dug into clay banks
cutting back into
the hill under the house
hand trowel scraping
yellowy clay into
slatted apple boxes
on long rope pull strings,
following a row
of rotten wood piles,
replacing these with
sturdier concrete supports
wedged under floor joists
as we hollow further into dark.
Dad too well built to fit so
weeks of tunnel boy labour
chid underground engineers,
filling-pulling, filling-pulling.

Grandparents house perched
on a steep North-East Valley street,
if you tripped and rolled
would you ever stop tumbling…
Tonka cars and Mecanno metal
my created worlds on their
rose patterned carpet
‘brmmm’ sounds
as I push loved cars
towards the refuelling station of
Grandma’s kitchen and
freshly baked peanut brownies.

My city of replaced memories
rubber wheeled
electric trolley buses,
roads spiralling out from Octagon
who cares if it means
going straight steep up the hill -
the shape was important
on the map,
cold sea harbours
and trevally fishing
hill walks and two storey
grand wooden houses,
St Kilda salt water pool
pounded by encroaching
sea wave explosions.

Dunedin -
centered on Robert Burns
seagull stained statue,
some Scottish in my heart
the child place in my dreams.

Prompt
A poem exploring where you are from, your history and younger child memories.
Stacks Image 5142

The Divine Finger

The Divine finger
marked my spirit,
Only in my dreams
did I see the possibilities,
but now
I hear the call,
Across the city
across the nation
across the earth,
In this place,
A call threaded into my heart,
burning deep
Nothing is impossible,
In Him
We can do anything,
It's not over until it's over.
The race call,
run,
Stretch your faith,
Stretch your heart,
Stretch your legs
and run,
run in
and for the Son,
Glorious free,
Freed to be,
released to see
the race before you.

In challenge midst
Pulled captive to different
goals,
the healing;
he restores my spirit,
in the heat
brothers, sisters run together,
My failures
Messed up
covered in
the together,
Sisters and brothers
Trusting God in one another
friendships touching time.

The past stories,
wind behind,
Slip stranded
streaming in the running,
And we see
His fingers have stamped
the moments
signposts of life
Touches of time,
Threaded to eternity.

But now
forgetting
what is behind,
this one thing
I - we do,
single-minded,
single-hearted,
Saying "Yes"
Focused,
broken,
fallen,
changed,
prophetic
radical.

Amazing
The race,
together,
running to-with-for Jesus,
to the finish,
celebrating full
the life
race.

Prompt
How we run the race with others, how we finish the race is a measure of who we are in Christ.
The Divine Finger Race Poem

Trying to Say

A haunting realness
trapped in me, 
mind encapsulated, 
A shell curled 
buried on the beach,
life hidden 
lonely,
crashing waves around 
non-person in a crowd 
quietness in the rage 
gems in the mud.

I could speak, 
there's something there, 
a hidden seed thought 
a truth
a reality,
I open my lips 
and say something else... 

Lying dreams of 
inner truth.
Facades, honesty and Truth Speaking so Hard

Plastic Love

A cautious sunbeam
scatters dust and time
across the unseen 
attic space,
time crumbles -
avalanche tumbling
present to the future,
cracked death
fractures window glass,
the barbie doll leers
under dark hidden
cardboard box shadows, 
twisted arms agape
legs impossible
angles of hope,
vacant eyes torn
from plastic life,
heart black oil
joint seeping,
memories of childhood
mind blotted by
screams of adolescence,
frustration tears
seep slim cheeks,
cheapened silence
strangles desires
smooth skin
slim waist, 
elongated arms akimbo
reflect human condition
in a circus hall of mirrors.

Dance on the soul
with your hate,
poke sneers
into the mindless,
sex your smile
in feeble resuscitation,
drift addiction
your dreams,
slumber with sleep 
and rupture your essence.

Outside
rustling leaves
quiet clap 
the always autumn sun,
time slows,
angles change and
the sunlight splits 
through cracked pain
twisting God's rainbow
into the room.
Barbie broken, life discarded poem
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