About randamir

I pastor Grace Presbyterian Church in Kernersville, North Carolina which locals fondly refer to as K-vegas -- the town not the church. As D.T. Niles once said, "I am not important except to God."

Are You In?

The Writer’s Digest is hosting its annual Poem a Day (PAD) Chapbook Challenge. Day Five’s prompt is “ruin.” What came out was a bit of a spoken word piece about ruin through lens of the prophet Isaiah, I think.

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

Where do I begin to address the wreck
And dreck of the damage and breaking,
The lies…Oh, the damned lies and the faking,
False propositions
Which validate ev’ry prediliction
And each little preference you want.

You do whatever you want
And cannot begin to understand what i want—
What is right and just
To be light and to love so much
That you must do what I love for
The love you’ve seen,
The love with which you been
Loved.

Unless there’s a change,
Unless you reign in the rage
And the wicked sucker punches
By which you dis one another
All that you see will be ruin
It will all come down and soon!

What will it be?
When will you see
That the glory which I bring,
The new day dawn of beauty
Is so much better than what the
Mob or Elite or Rich or
The Entitled Establishment
Who live to get their share now
Whatever the costs
In shouts and the din
Of riot and anger, rebellion and sin.

For I will rise.
And in you, my light will shine
And bless the wreak and death
Of the tomb of this ruin.

Do you want to see the day
When every tear is counted,
And each as it falls is wiped away
By Love and Light
When eternal day dispels the night?
Do you want a way through
Into the True of Right and Life?

The first step is down
You must kneel to be crowned.
Only those who are sinners
Become saints.
The only question yet,
Is whether you will come
Whether you will step down and in
So, what about it?
R U IN?

© Randall Edwards 2020.

Giving Up On Myself

The Writer’s Digest is hosting its annual Poem a Day (PAD) Chapbook Challenge. Day Four’s prompt is “(blank) myself.” By that they prompt asks you to consider how one things about one’s self, what one does to one’s self, etc…. Here’s how I took it.

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

I talk to Myself: 
A committee of three
Comprised of I, Myself, and Me.
I moves the motion which I second Myself;
We leave the discussion to Me.
Hearing no objection,
We All call the question.
The vote? None against.
In favor? Three.

I talk to Myself:
My Committee of Three
We replay regret, the betrayal of trust;
Myself and I are so glad we have Me
Because “trusting” is just “tr..ting” without “us.”

And that’s how I came
To make every decision
To do all the stupid I’ve done.
Again and again I do the same
Expecting a different outcome.

My best thinking 
Is what got Me here:
Full of anger, regret, shame, and fear,
Till things got so bad
That I lost all I had,
Lost everyone whom I counted dear.

I fired The Committee,
Got new friends that hour
Where I found I was least qualified
To stay in the position
Of Commissar of addictions;
I Gave “Me” to a Higher Power.

Again, my best thinking
Is what drove Me here,
Not some fancy Cadillac.
I’ve come to listen, not tell but to hear
How giving up on Myself sets Me free from the past.

Thank you for your welcome, for your gracious greeting.
My name is Randy.
One day.
First meeting.

© Randall Edwards 2020.

Dream or Nightmare?

The Writer’s Digest is hosting its annual Poem a Day (PAD) Chapbook Challenge. Day Three’s prompt is “a dream or nightmare poem.” I wonder if election day was the inspiration for this prompt? At any rate, I took it as such.

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

Upon Election Day it would seem
Hangs all our nightmares or our dreams
Of hope and health and help and life
Or else death, stabbed in the back with a knife.

We’ll go to sleep to the play of the news
While pundits scour polls give us their views,
Their reasons with the probable plauses
Why it broke this way — what were the causes.

Restless we’ll dream while the TV drones on:
Politicians boast or sing their sad song,
Give their speeches of humble concession,
Or swear they’ll protest the fixed election.

One day you’ll wake, after this dreadful night;
The Sun shall rise in glory, heavy and light,
Bring the New Day, the Fullness of Dreams
To dispel the nightmare’s evil, wicked schemes.

© Randall Edwards 2020.

Unexpected

The Writer’s Digest is hosting its annual Poem a Day (PAD) Chapbook Challenge. Day Two’s prompt is “unexpected” which I did not expect to complete. This is harder than I thought.

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

I plan and make lists to protect my time
From unexpected interruptions;
I niggle the nickles, count the last dime
To escape trouble’s disruption.

In this way I am safe and secure
From surprise and all her plight;
My life stays in the lanes, on rails, is sure;
I go where I want, get home before night.

Though I try and control all that I can
The weather turns, pandemics persist,
Life never sticks to the plans which I plan;
What I fix resists, will not just stay fixed.

But Grace is never expected;
From unseen corners it keeps me guessing;
‘Neath the radar arrives undetected,
And pours out unexpected blessing.

I’ll stay focused, though I may glance above,
And hope for the surprise shower of Love.

© Randall Edwards 2020.

Enter

The Writer’s Digest is hosting its annual Poem a Day (PAD) Chapbook Challenge. This challenge coincides with NaNoWriMo. Well, since this is 2020 and this the 13th Annual Challenge, I think I’m gonna try. The first prompt is “an enter poem.”

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

To enter is to leave behind
The loitering of diffidence,
The indecisive paralysis
Of overthinking analysis
That keeps you on the outside.

To enter is to step over 
A threshold into another
Place which you’ve never seen or been
Or maybe round to that spot again
To make a new life or start over.

To enter is an escape from
The commitment-less troll of wand’ring
Round the block for fear of missing out
Afraid you’ll sell short or sell out,
Afraid before you start you’ll be done.

To enter can be a fearful thing
When stepping into the unknown
With others running to the threat
Or facing alone the vale of death
To meet it’s pain and sting.

To enter is the last thing we do
The final door through which we pass
Welcomed by Eternal Glory
Take our place midst the Author’s story
Beyond all hope having found our way through.

© Randall Edwards 2020.