INSIDE // spoken word poetry // lockdown 2020

I was challenged by a young man recently to write a poem about the current situation. I love the medium of spoken word poetry, so I decided to take this opportunity to give it a try. Here’s the result (The reason it looks homemade is because it is homemade):

Stuck inside
This house, inside
These walls
These halls
This mental space forgotten
Growing vines
It’s gotten messy up in here

I fear
There’s some things I’ve neglected…
And while I hide from being infected
I can’t hide from myself

I’m here
No company allowed
And yet, inside, there’s still a crowd
This silence isn’t quiet
Sometimes, more like a riot;
*Think hard*—I’d like to try it, but…
It’s not as easy as it seems

Maybe I’m overthinking,
Still under-sleeping
Staying up too late and reading
Too much trivia
On media
Designed to make me click
And stick
Some picture in my mind
Leave behind
A false impression
I can’t even tell what’s true
Or what I am supposed to do
I’m confused, and so are you,
Or maybe you know everything

I don’t.
This thing is humbling
Our progress now is crumbling
Our scientists are fumbling
The answers are not coming
Our modern world was humming
Right along and then it stopped

We’re not as strong as we thought
We’re not
We’re weaker than we knew
We’re mortal
Now we see it’s true
The question is: what can we do?
There’s no sports to distract us

We have to face these thoughts
To own them
Look them in the eye
And try
To answer them—
But how?
The Reaper wins
And grins
And gloats about it
Struts the world
As nations hide
Inside
As if we could avoid him
By playing hide and seek

There’s only one man ever known
To stand up to him, toe to toe
The Reaper thought he beat him, too
But Jesus – ha! No, he refused
To stay inside the grave
And when he rose again
He gave
His power over sin and death
To anyone
Who comes
And asks

And so you crowded thoughts of mine
Stop turning circles in my mind
Look up!
Above these little halls
Look up!
Beyond these closed in walls
Hope has arrived
He has a name

Not the hope of doing better
Trying harder
Self improving
That old battle I keep on losing
I was hiding,
Hope was seeking
Jesus found me in my weakness
Jesus came inside my walls
Jesus saw the mess I’m making
All the ways that I’ve been faking
Taking gifts as if I made them
And still he gave me more

Gave himself to win my freedom
From the Reaper and my demons
And all he asks me in return
Is everything

Now—think on that