Daniel Steverson

Alpabetically speaking these demons are manifesting continuously. Here today gone tomorrow, grease stains between the grain. I put it on my name. I have the armor of God as my breast plate. Rage, anger, brawling and slander. No other gospel but grammars; to show we are on one accord slaying ghosts and gobblings with the bible as my sword. Sowing generously to these adversaries. Gone in the wind; an itch not a friend. If he does not relent, he will bend and string his bow. He has prepared his deadly weapons. He makes ready with his flaming arrows. He who is pregnated with evil and conceives trouble gives birth to disillusionment, digging himself a hole. Avenges blood remembers; does not ignore the cry of the afflicted. In his arrogance the wicked man hunts down the weak, who are caught in the schemes he devises. Boasts of the cravings of his heart; blesses the greedy and reviles the lord in part. Gates to the inner court, the rooms for preparing sacrifices. These are writings on the wall for wholesale and retail. We tell the image of gold and the fiery furnace. King Nebuchadnezzar spicy temperature on the themos. Like a fluttering sparrow or a darting swallow, an undeserved curse does not come to rest. Better yet let's address without wood a fire goes out; without gossip a quarrel dies down. Be my rock of refuge; my fortress o sovereign lord my confidence since youth from birth I've relied on you; you bought me forth from my mother's womb. My mouth is filled with praise declaring your splendor all day. Do not cast me away when I am old. Don't forsake me when my strength is gone. Your status stand firm when there is none like you. How profound your thoughts undue. Does a man implanted the ear to not hear? Do not use the lord thy God name in vain. We are the people of his posture, the flock under his care whether we rapture the knot under his stir. He spoke to them from the pillar of cloud out loud with lightning and thunder a browse, le

Sin City is one of the most notorious cities with a high murder rate. Crime Money Drugs; C.M.D. These streets are known to get down or lay down. High Crime & Drug Rate, it's just high violence period. In Sin City, we had it all for a small city, we're known as the Cocaine Kingdom, every part of town was Chaos; there was the South Sonic Crew, The North Kackalakas, and the East Bangalagas. Outsiders were scared to enter these Bandlands because every corner had Beef and every street you caught static. Every street repped a name, not colors, for example, The 132nd Unknowns, Da 124th Strong, 127th Outlaws and my Block repped 126th Madness. We were like a thousand Capone's in this Small City.

So They Tell Me The trees tell me-I only have sensories of outreaching beyond my boundaries of complacentcy. Freedom I see once I flap my wings of trusting the basic instincts even though there's a possibility the tree branch breaks modestly of having high self esteem. It's along way down the rivers stream drowning; no life jacket or lifeguard for rescuing just bowies in the deep blue sea; bungy jumping from the limbs onto the concrete constantly like scrambled eggs unjustly prophesying sunny side up astonishing-the hunchback is acknowledging he can now use the oxygen that's always been there since mocking sins and virgins in the garden. I beg my pardon- the skys tell me they've removed the margins so that I can broaden my horizons; so tall as the animal cage projects.

Poetry In Motion