Brian

This is dedicated to the Apt. 51 boys: Josh Smith, Adam Price, and Ashley Brown. I wrote this back in August of 2002 after the girl below us complained about a little bit of guitar playing. I have no idea how she heard it because I was fingerpicking lightly on my acoustic. Ah, the joys of apartment life. You can sing this one to the tune of Dooley.

Brian was a good ole man, he lived in 51
Brian played the guitar, he played that thing a ton
One gal asked nicely and another made a fuss
Brittany beat on the ceiling to get ole Brian to hush

CHORUS
Brian, keeping up the neighbors
Brian, do us all a favor
Brian, put it to rest or we're gonna get the law

Ashley Brown played with him, a pickin' and a grinnin'
Ole Brian kept up with him, never ever slippin'
Now Brian was a pleaser, when the folks would come
It was listen up now and Brian will pick you one

Now I remember very well the day ole Brian died
His neighbors felt sorry and his roommates sat around and cried
Now Brian's in the grave now, he lies there all alone
They put a pick beside him and an amp for a stone

Possession

I penned this poem after about a month of college. It is dated September 27, 1999.

You think you own me
Well you have another thing coming
Because you see I've got Jesus
And He's got me
Why do you think you can run over me?
Is it because of my Christianity?
You haven't won yet, and you never will
I've read the book and I know the end
Every knee shall bow and every tongue confess
That Jesus Christ is Lord
Because of the cross I have room and board
In a place called heaven
I'll never belong to mere men

Turn

This poem was written during my high school senior English class. I'd like to dedicate it to the memory of Col. Bill Ragan.

Laying down the line, kicking in the verse
When I turn to Jesus, He takes away my thirst
Living in spiritual warfare
Satan, the devil, is my worst nightmare
But don't be crossed over, and don't be dismayed
Because our Lord and Savior rose from the grave
When I spend time in the Word I don't count it as a lost
When I have a problem with sin I take it to the cross
Twilight and evening bell
Reminds me of those lost and dying
Going to hell
But we Christians are sent on a mission
Jesus gave us the Great Commission
Oh, lost soul, please turn from hell
And may there be no sad farewell
Fire, fire, everywhere
Soul burning and not too fare
Wanting water, yes, living water
But there's none to be found
You had your chance on earth
And now there's no escape
You're falling like Superman without a cape
The worms crawl in and the worms crawl out
Listen up if you don't know what I'm talking about
The choice is yours so choose wisely
About where you'll spend eternity
Like I said it's up to you
Brothers and sisters listen to the truth
If you choose Jesus you will receive in full
Green grass, green grass everywhere
Golden streets and a crystal sea over there

O Death

I'd like to dedicate this poem to Dr. Jerry A. Pickard. It was during one of his sermons covering 1 Corinthians 15:55 that inspired me to put pen to paper on March 14, 1999. Wow, that was back when I was a senior in high school.

O Death, where is your victory
O Death, where is your sting
Through Christ I can do anything
Turn off the world and tune Jesus in
We should all die because of our sin
But at the cross, the cross of Calvary
Jesus paid the price for you and me
Oh soul, oh soul, when will you turn?
Oh soul, oh soul, when will you learn?
Oh Death, where is your sting?
Must I remind you
To count your blessings one by one
It was there, oh there, on the old rugged cross
I was no longer counted as a loss
Because there is nothing but the blood
There is power in the blood
Are you washed in the blood?
I am His and He is mine
Christ will be with me throughout all time

Not Knowing

I wrote this one back in 2000.

And now it begins
The turning of the wheel
Of the human mind
That's heading for a spill
Not knowing what lies ahead
One more step and you're dead
Enter in the cold dark truth
You'll be terrified when you find out it's you
The hunter is looking for
To rob and steal and leave you lying on the floor
Suddenly you stop and want to know why
The hunter wants to take away your piece of the pie
Then you ask yourself, "Why did I wait?"
You put it together like toothpaste and Colgate
Why, oh why, couldn't you simply let Jesus in?
Now you must face the consequences of your sin

Rise up all ye nations
Don't trust your calculations
Give it all to Jesus and don't reject
Give the Lord and Savior your utmost respect

Keep Me

I wrote this poem in worship to my Savior on March 26, 2000.

God, I'm sorry
For what I put You through
Lord, please forgive me
For what I do
It was there on the cross
The cross of Calvary
You shed Your blood
And You died for me
God, I praise You
For saving me
Don't let me take it for granted
And keep me from being selfminded
Lord, I praise You from my heart
Oh Lord my God, how great Thou art
Lord, my heart goes out to You
Because You defeated Satan and his crew
I'm glad it doesn't matter
If we're Gentile or Jew
What does matter
Is that we believe in You
Help me to make progress
And rescue me from this mess
I'm so glad Jesus arose on the third day
And I know He'll be back one day

The Storm

I wrote this poem on the night of December 19, 2000 as I witnessed a display of God's power through my window. I'd like to dedicate it to the boys of 111 Oak. Folks in Georgia understand the meaning of "come up a bad cloud."

I stood by the window
Watching the oncoming storm
The ever mighty flashes of
Light and the sound of
Roaring lions not far behind
The wind, yes, the wind blows
Steady against the swaying trees
Flash! Crash! Yes, feel the wind
The sky, how peculiar!
Orange, then blue, then black
Lit only by what looks like
Camera flashes in a great stadium
I pause, I glance, the storm
Moves closer, fed as though
By wild desire
I wait and wait until
I awake. What?! It's
Morn. The sun's rays have
Torn through the once dark sky
No more storm, life
Back to norm.

When you are going through the storm, remember that the Anchor holds.

Love,
Bob