The Poet's Page

By Vic George 2000

Do you not understand what I am trying to say?
I tell you my problem as clearly as I possibly can,
Yet I might as well be speaking to you in Greek.
You say things back that do not say "I understand",
But rather say "These are your problems, not mine;
Go carry your cross up the hill of Calvary
And come back to me once you hang yourself on it."
Your empathy, even though you are a brother,
Might as well be the same things they spat on Christ.
How much rebuke can I hope to take
Before you open your eyes and and your ears
That block the route of my words to your heart?
I am not Christ himself, I am only a Christian.
Shall I keep myself silenced and helpless to you,
Allow you to continue accusing me of thinking in Satan's ways
While you walk too close to the same precipice,
Judging what and where you shouldn't be judging?
Lord, please forgive them, believers and unbelievers,
For they know not the things they still not know of me.
Let me not think of them with a hardened heart,
But let the hills be leveled and mountains be moved
And the light shine through for all to see
And let there be no doubt left behind.

By Vic George 2000

How many times do I hear other people say,
"Lighten up, you're too serious"?
How many times do I hear them say,
"I have no sense of humor"?
How many times do I see their own behaviors,
Behaving too much like children,
Forgetting not only the incidents
But also the lessons to be learned from them?
How many times do they forget my own laughter
And not realize that they're not always funny,
That they wield humor like a sword
And can carelessly cut and wound others?
I am watching what I say more than ever,
But how is it they can't see this in me?
They'd rather me prove them right, those poor souls,
That I truly can't laugh at anything
Because they can't control their own humor.
Put down those swords and see for yourselves
Those dying from your razor-sharp comments
That you claim to be light as feathers.

By Vic George 2000

I look at myself and wonder day by day
Who will ever love me in the flesh?
I was made for someone out there,
But who would ever become one with me?
The flesh that has sustained and protected me
Has now become a curse upon my soul,
For its carnal desires demand satisfaction.
I am made wretched in this form,
A sheep in wolf's clothing,
Unworthy, undeserving in the eyes of man,
Loved only through lusting appetites.
The world rejects what I want to give
Because it does not come from them.
But God won't allow for flesh to inherit
The wondrous kingdom of heaven
That Jesus prepared only for the spirit.
I am left to wonder what I love more:
The boast of fulfilled desire through the flesh,
Or the promise of eternal love through the spirit.
But in the meantime,
I still wait for the other half
That He might bind me with in both.

By Vic George 2000

Does anybody want my present?
It is the best thing I can offer to you.
It has a lot of surprises,
Something new for each and every day
So you will never be bored.
You get the best and worst of me,
My faults and shortcomings
Along with my strengths and talents.
It has been carefully crafted,
Handmade with love and tempered steel,
As solid as a rock
And yet as soft as pure satin.
The best thing about my present
Is that it's completely compatible
With tomorrow's situations,
So it changes and grows along with you,
Yet I will always remain the same.
I've been saving it for someone special...
The question is who wants it?

By Vic George 2000

All through life,
It's been about doing something
Just to get something you want.
Nobody gets something for nothing,
For what good is gaining it
If there was no effort put into getting it?
And what good would be in doing it
If there was nothing to gain from the effort?
But sometimes we are tempted
To get something we love so much,
We would do anything to get it now
More than to patiently wait to get it.
Sometimes we may not receive
What has been promised to us.
Other times it satisfies us for a while,
But in the end, it leaves us empty.
The treasures become cold and rusted,
The pleasures become short and forgotten,
The flesh becomes old and weak,
And its beauty erodes with the years.
So what if we lived not for the goal,
But for the journey toward it?
Can we put away our desires for the tangible
And live for something that endures forever?
Could it be that something better
Than what we wanted will be there for us?
We have only to trust in that belief to find out.

By Vic George 2000

Alone at night, with no one beside me,
I close my eyes and dream of heaven.
I see myself in a place that is beautiful,
Unspoiled by the hand of man
Like being on a quiet beach in the morning,
Walking hand in hand with an angel.
We talk of things beyond the scope of this life,
But our eyes never leave each other.
We touch only through words of love
Because we no longer have earthly bodies,
Nor do we need them anymore.
We watch as a sea of clouds crash onto the shore
And gulls feed upon His divine providence.
Her wings blanket me and keep me warm,
Though there is no chilly breeze in the air.

I tell her, "If only you had been there in my life
When I was among the living,
We would have shared our love together
As two that became one flesh.
We would have walked upon real beaches
And communicated through our hands.
We would have rested in the safety
Of each other's arms in the nighttime.
We would have grown old together,
And looked back upon memories that grew."

She says, "I have always been with you,
Though you have not known it,
For He had sent me to protect you
From the evils that would have consumed you.
I kept your mind pure and clean
During times of overbearing passions.
I sang you songs of peace and love
When you were angry and embittered.
I spread my wings over you
In nights of rest when you were alone,
Shielding your soul from the darkness."

I tell her, "But is this really heaven?
For I will awaken soon and will be alone again."

She says, "As long as you hold on
To His love for you,
Heaven will always live inside of you."

By Vic George 2001

All day long, we live as strangers and outcasts
Standing outside the gates of Paradise,
Looking into a world we want to be in,
A world of love and free expression.
But we cannot break through the gates;
A barrier is cast between us and the dream.
The ones standing inside Paradise briefly look at us,
And then shake their heads and cast us away.
They can only look long enough to scoff at us;
Our friends, our brothers and sisters,
Even our parents mock us for our "failure".

We are hated because we are not like them,
Successful at everything, even taking ungodly risks,
Reaping the harvest that they have sown.
We toil day and night, just enough to eat bread,
And still our hearts and souls are not satisfied.
How we long to be like them in Paradise,
To enjoy the pleasing fruits of our hard labors,
To be clothed only in neverending joy.

But those who are already in Paradise
Dare to scorn us by being the gatekeepers;
They refuse to even see what it is like out here,
To a time when they too were strangers outside of love.
All they can do is throw laughter in our faces
And display their victories so grotesquely,
And then shut the gates and lock up the keys,
Saying it’s either through our way or no way.
They make us want to hate them, to envy them,
To stir up a rage that would consume our souls,
To send them and ourselves into the same pit.

We are left standing outside with the One
Who was sent to be with us as a stranger and outcast,
Hated because no one would accept Him,
Because all He has for us is His undying love.
His Father has promised an eternal Paradise
Hidden beyond a narrow path only a few can find;
A Paradise where one can eat and be satisfied
And all tears shall be as morning dew in the sun,
Dried from the coldness of the long night.
He says that the Paradise we are seeing
Is only one made on earth, made by flesh,
A Paradise that will one day be consumed by fire
And all their “successes” shall be laid bare in ashes.

Come, follow Me away from here, says the One,
And I will heal your broken hearts
And you will be clothed in white,
For My love is one without end or beginning.
Those who have been long comforted in carnality
Shall be like fallen angels in burning sulfur,
While those who have suffered through this life
Without even the single caring touch of another
Will be enshrouded in the arms of the everlasting.

"They shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore;
the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat;
for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne
will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters.
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."
-- Rev. 7:16-17

By Vic George 2001

Here I am, humbled, down on my knees
Begging for Your mercy.
I cannot even look up to see You,
For You are a blazing light
And it has seared into my soul.
My mouth cannot move
To say anything to You,
Not even a Yes or a No.
Your words are like a sword,
I can feel its sharp blade in my head,
Yet it leaves no wound man can see.
I am as a mere pebble at Your throne,
Ready to be kicked far from You.
I see myself in Your eyes
As a displeasure, a disgraceful figure,
Unwashed, unclean, unworthy
To be in Your great presence.
My heart is laid bare on display,
My life is but a flame on a wick,
My deeds are recorded and read aloud
To a jury ready to convict me.
All I can do at this moment
Is fall on my knees and beg for Your mercy.