The Prodigal

I should add that this was the first performance-poetry (spoken word) that I wrote after my life had been taken through the story of Lost Son as told by Jesus in Luke 15 and got me returning back to the Father. Back home.
Be Blessed!

The Prodigal

I bring my two cents here because it’s all about change.

He changed my locale so now I’m foreign, in this world but not of it.

Seeking to represent the heavenly culture coz that’s where home is,

But truth is...

Truth is my crippled walk lacked stand like shifting shadows in flickering light.

Constantly changing teams from his team to Lucifer’s team, my life was just like steam. Rising and soon disappearing, becoming all things to all men that I may fit in

Not save some of them.

So with such blinded sight I sought identity in the broken mirrors of society,

Gradually becoming what the movies, music and the surrounding presented,

A bad boy, a hypocrite

A hypocrite because the once a week appearance in church and the scriptures that hiccuped my speech were impressionable.

And the Christian folk; some of the Christian folk around me were just nice.

They didn't care about my personal life coz even Jesus is a personal saviour.

But I believe there’s a reason we become brethren when we are born again so we've got to bother about our brothers.

Anyways, with such doubt dripping into my system like saline

Deafening my spiritual ears in the meantime,

I began to lose the faith that comes by hearing but found the seeming peace that comes by sipping.

So I got into drugs and alcohol for the often times I felt low.

Justified it by saying I was connecting to the most high.

Then in the height of things I fell head over heels in love...

Well it was more like heels over head because I was

Jumping into it faster than my head could process.

Invited her to my house and she was there, wanted to take mental pictures, so I said “cheese!” then I started to smell a rat.

I knew this was wrong but the brilliance of her body and the countless thoughts absent care

Blinded me so that I sought excitement (EX sight-ment) from out of His sight

And that’s when I finally gave up my identity (eye-dentity) and began to see things as though I was blind, needing to touch just so I could get my way around...

Her curves...

Her curves were so much in my head that I couldn't think straight.

So I said to myself, “she needs to trust me”

But all the trust that I had was latex rubber

Which could never erase my inadequacies but the try was worth it

So I trusted her. Trusted her until there was no more need for trust;

Slowly becoming a slave of a sexual system that was statutorily raping me

Because I was still a child

A brainchild of God’s idea, the Brainstem from whom I had since branched and was no longer connected

Desperate for a relationship

I wanted to love and be loved for who I was.

But how could she love me for me when I was never me when I was with her.

See, I presented this great persona, on top of my game, you would think I was both ref and the coach

Some serious sense of style, deceitful charm with just the words to say

You could say I had a swagger, which drinking reduced to stagger.

But the real man that I was, whom she yet met or understood and whom I was coming to terms with was this

Prodigal son, eating feaces with swine

Shunning the son, because his light would shine

Revealing my facade which covered my shame

And guilt and filth

Like filthy rags I needed to be changed, like soiled diapers I needed changing,

Like beggars in the street I needed some change

A new song and a new race because, I was tired of the

Same track different lyrics 

Same track, different races, particularly weary of this one that had no finish line.

Just like a phone number with no ID I needed to be saved, in the book of life so God would call me His own.

So the prodigal came to his mind and said,

“How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough to eat and spare and I perish with hunger. I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him that I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants.”

But He, he ran to me, cleansed me, clothed me anew and fed me. I was dead and He gave me new life which I now live for only Him.

He changed the things I put myself into, and the things I put into me

The things I put in my head, in my heart and on my plate.

He calmed the storm in my tea cup

And now what’s in my cup is what Hebrews taught me

That without faith it is impossible to please God, so I seek Him diligently

And pray ceaselessly that this change will not be a phase or event but it will be a daily process.

That He will make me a living sacrifice that will not run from the altar

That He will daily remind me that I am a new creation, that the old has gone and behold all things are made new

That I will above all else esteem His love for me, not just what He owns that falls to me

Because this is the only time I ever saw Him run

When He ran to me