Cedar wood “swear I wills”
Many people want the smell of
righteousness but without the right scents,
because cologne righteousness is costly.
Oak moss offerings,
Some people’s righteousness is like cologne--
bottled, colored, transparent. The containers are
vessels of mind blown glass formed like
men, books, brains, and dirty hearts.
The evil ‘nose’ always knows,
he’s the synthesizing
distilling flowery concoctions
to suit people’s fickle options.
His bottles are embossed with
signatures of designer impostors.
temporary, imaginary olfactory
churning out ‘run of the mill’
religious rites of perfumage.
sprayed three times, or four;
leaving the user incensed at their maker
because they’ve been burnt once more.
The souls are slowly being distilled.
These souls are being dissed-
still the truth search continues
like musical chairs,
and we’ve heard it all before.
The cologne righteous is being worn
out to the club where it talks all that jazz.
Slingers aim for perfection
shooting from the hip,
hopping from one rock
to a hard place
in search of the Gospel truth.
The next night,
a little R&B or ‘righteous babble’.
The aroma switches and swings
from one big band aid solution to another.
And just when the seeker
sniffs out what appears to be
the mother worship,
the glands of the human nature cry,
“We want the funk!” And a flood of frustrations,
dissatisfactions and other toilet water issues
flush from the pores of the reservoir of the human heart.
Where did the
This experience leaves the wearer wrong.
And wonton sinful ways once again waft from the lifestyle--
The perspiration of hard works
from a dissatisfied and un-stilled soul.
More residents for the poor house,
the crazy house, or just the plain old
All slave quarters
(sniff!) What’s that smell,
reviving the unconscious?
They smell the salt of the earth,
the distributors of an opium for the elect.
It is a formula Ancient of Days;
contemplated from the Mount of Olives;
enfleuraged with Rose of Sharon.
Ahh, a Gileadean balm that soothes
chapped lives; combined with distilled cedar
from Golgotha’s hill; expressed love and sweat
of a sweet smelling Savior.
He is amber-colored with gold dust of Kingship;
deified with frankincense;
mourned with teardrops of myrrh;
Mixed in grace and mercy,
and poured discriminately yet freely
from the vessel embossed
with the seal of promise.
Rub vigorously on feet,
hands, tongue, and especially
Has cologne righteousness evaporated?
This fragrance preserves the living
who are dead to themselves and
alive to Christ,
So this is not an alternative cologne at all
But for the soul—
8 Taste and see that the LORD is good;
blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.
Miles Brandon Battle
A GrandMother is a woman strong like oak tree care and love.
A GrandMother should be a woman saved and religious, like joy and life
service to a Grand Father.
GrandMother, a woman who hates the love of money and
so gives hers away.
A GrandMother should sing to God like Mahalia applauded by Robeson.
A real GrandMother bakes pies delivering temporary tastes of sweet gold.
A GrandMother should make mistakes and still be right.
Hide hurt and still shed light. She should laugh like thunder
stealing the show from lightning. And so GrandMa did.
Towers and regimes fall and so do finished bodies of faithful servant hood,
like rain and tears. As heads hung low from acknowledging sin.
Like drops of blood from a Jesus believed in.
But confident in death destroyed like the Savior achieved then.
So GrandMa rises, high to Heaven like a promise that her Father said she would.
And this is all good.
2 Timothy 1:5
5I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your
grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and,
I am persuaded, now lives in you also.
Miles Brandon Battle
September 9, 2002
Dedicated to GrandMa Mattie Battle
--Was the topic of our conversation
last night, and I saw stars fall
in that parking lot and my tired eyes
rolled back to the sobering drive home.
We just weren’t going to see eye to eye clearly, no toast.
Weary of justification and liberal libations poured out to the god
of self-willed lullaby–
Bacchus, back me up on this!
I call them white wine lies—“I just like the taste”
as we verbally walk the white line between the wise and the world.
Acquaintance has unveiled differing convictions
Between her and me.
Toxic logic evokes the banal marriages on the rocks,
like scotch, and so many are. Promises hung-over to dry;
others staggering, about to die. Vineyards squeezing in
one visitor at a time for “just one drink.”
And that is what the alcoholics used to think.
I’ve seen use of the drink pull Navy pilots out the sky,
bomb like naga-saki; sequester sisters’ semesters,
perforate family livers like toes on scuffed, holey wing tips;
draw accounts on D.W.I.’s
I’ve heard of drink
summoning others to die
like a real genuine draft
I’ve navigated rivers of imbibers,
rum and smoke as thick and temporary
as a fake Holy Ghost
hovering above an earth smothered uncle.
Emptiness on the inside collides altered states of consciousness
with good times. Lush fathers and mothers
whet sons and daughters
to tap generational keg lines.
Sure Jesus turned water to wine
to enlighten spirits that it was His time.
“Everything in moderation”
has given many in this nation
a foamy head running over the rim
forming championship rings on the counter
near the woes they sing.
And if the music stops,
Man’s enemy tends to runs for liquid escape...
drowning out the cries of rape.
My regurgitation stoops me down
to collect myself and think:
Man, all this,
Drink from the cup of the Bartender
who tended to the license of liberty
and fills to the brim the emptiness
of a life poured out to Him.
He tapped death of its finality,
and life of its banality with 100%
resurrection proof. He uncorked His
spirit to fill you with unfermented fruit;
watered down the lies with sober-minded truth.
Believe Him for your spirits high, and
tighten-up with one more for the road of
Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit.
December 31, 2001
Bruised for beatings of things we do and don’t do.
Raw hide for hiding and not shining like buckles.
Glinting with pride from bloody knuckles
And mean sarcastic chuckles.
Sin muddles and multiplies, like lies.
Welts on the belted Son of God.
Yeah, you suffer for the things you do.
But still He leaves you with the TRUTH.
Leaving the well-spring of life unguarded;
pumping faster when lust is its master.
Giving life to the body and mind.
Chasing after idols of St. Valentine.
The keeper of the body’s rhythmic time
Made happier by gorging on
The Bread and the Wine.
We skip beats and fail the tests.
He still feeds us RIGHTEOUSNESS.
We reach for our piece with a trigger
In weapon, word, or thought.
Laced up and tied in the evil we’ve been taught.
Trampling souls as we run to and from our goals.
But the truth comes to step on toes.
The Gospel, to soothe our woes.
Look what strolled in when Jesus rose!
PEACE and readiness that the world doesn’t know.
Full of holes with grief;
Staggering with no sign of relief.
We block the right
with the wrong.
That same ol’, same ol’ song.
We are bullet, disease, and accident proof,
Challenging hell and hate.
But maintained by the One who waits...
holding up the shield of FAITH.
Getting ahead of the One who is head,
Leaves us behind on our behinds.
Eyes and ears allowing all.
Mouth spewing loud and foul.
Neck nodding with the negative.
Mind minding worldly things.
Satan answers, “Decapitation!”
The Savior is placing on SALVATION.
Curses cut to the core like sharp icicles.
We carve people like knives.
Samuaris of spoken shame.
Using God’s name in vain.
Leaving youngins hung with our forked-tongues;
Lip lashing out of pain.
Jaws set like Jaws,
Devouring without cause.
Immediately forgetting what is heard.
The SPIRIT kindly stabs with WORD.
Dead by my own devices;
Duplicating the Devil;
Divided by double-mindedness;
Done by dirty deeds;
Still fighting with kick and scream.
“Go away God and let me bleed!”.
But God with grace and mercy from above,
sent Jesus and His masking blood.
Quit, sinner, and believe the Son.
Stop, thief, and bring it back.
Cry, liar, and just confess.
Fight, soldier, and don’t give up;
Keep on until the day is won.
Hold your heart up, let Him see that face.
He’s gonna wipe it with some of this grace.
It doesn’t matter what you’ve done.
God loves you with His lasting LOVE.
3 The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying:
"I have loved you with an everlasting love;
I have drawn you with loving-kindness…
Miles B. Battle
May 6, 2001
Like a slow motion video of a bird hitting an F-14 cockpit,
the plane tilts to slam into the south tower.
It turns like a Vietcong knife in a U.S. troop
It turns like Tyson’s brazen jaw to bite the ears
of the Heavyweight Champion.
Casting a fiery shadow of Jehova’s back against
his hanging Son’s bated breath. Twisting as Amodou Diallo to his
crimson covered stoop. Compromising like Giuliani from his
wedding vows. It turns like Christ’s key opening
the gates of Hell.
The tear changes course in the crease beneath the young woman’s left eye.
A stranger turns to cling another unknown loved one.
Turning mouths into pleading confessors of long forsaken appeals to
Heaven. It turned like black clothes
from flowers and deep holes.
It turned some to runto the still-standing
love of God,
which allowed this
turn of events in
the first place.
1Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. 2Jesus answered, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? 3I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. 4Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them -- do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? 5I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish."
Miles Brandon Battle
Rusty Brown Bodies settling for soul games
and multiple life derangements.
Managing mangers of philosophical funguses.
Finessing less repentance
and fanning hot coals of recklessness.
Dressing this up to make one fine mess.
Souls subtracting divinity adding loneliness.
The sum of this equation equaling one less blessed.
Shiny Brown Spirits. Waxy with new joy and the protection of an
antiseptic blood flow and puss oozing from the infamous perpendicular sticks.
Sin taxes levied were paid by God made like us.
Cleansing the wound of Rusty Brown Bodies’ black list remiss.
Still new Shiny Brown Bodies wrestle
with the sin kiss, but win, pinning the curse with
God’s tongue licked scripts. Because encrypted
in Shiny Brown Spirits is the spirit of His.
These saline solutions are now Biblical contents
making contacts see brighter
as they seek God to get righter.
Shiny Brown Spirits get robes washed whiter.
Shiny Brown Spirits prepare
your tongues of fire.
Hold on, one day this great whore
you won’t have to fight her!
Shiny Brown Spirits
did you know it?
Don’t fight it
go for it...
Shiny Brown Spirits will unite high with
Shiny Red Spirits,
Shiny White Spirits, and
Shiny Yellow Spirits.
From the island the Apostle John peeped it.
The dismal advent of post-continent yielded this event.
Shiny Brown Spirits take flight.
Now eyes of Shiny Brown Spirits glint from the Host who is light.
At this height admittance is only by invite.
Shiny Brown Spirits feast.
Bite the bread of eternal life and reap the breath of praise daily with no nights.
Shiny Brown Spirits sip genuine grace.
Shiny Brown Spirits cause ringing from incessant praise singing
and sliding bestowed head rings to His Holiness,
as they slump to the pearl glass floor to adore
the Everlasting, evermore...
11 The ransomed of the LORD will return.
They will enter Zion with singing;
everlasting joy will crown their heads.
Gladness and joy will overtake them,
and sorrow and sighing will flee away.
Miles B. Battle
Unselfish, but with boundaries I will protect you.
You’re not self-seeking, but pure in heart.
Gentleness giving way to mercy;
Faithfully forgetting flaws,
not boasting, like meekness.
Good, we are, pressing,
hoping even in persecution.
Your kindness– my kind,
lifting my mourning in due time.
You, my patience never failing,
rejoicing with the truth of a peacemaker.
I am your peace– poor in spirit,
not proud, nor easily angered.
With joy always trusting,
in and out of season like salt.
My love, our love– patient with no envy,
striving for the feast of righteousness.
Come die with me.
To the cross,
where we’ll indulge in these
and live like Jesus
who leads us
as we are
22But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23gentleness and self control. Against such things there is no law.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Miles Brandon Battle
July 8, 2000
Views expressed are those of the participants
And are not necessarily the opinions of the station,
Its management, or staff.
Views expressed are those of earth’s inhabitants
And are not necessarily those leading to salvation,
But useless like chaff.
Views expressed are those of the magnificent
And are not received by a rebellious nation
Who despise the comfort of the rod and the staff.
Views expressed are 3-point perspective views, orthographic and axonometric
Views; reflected light views which when shined correctly (though through a glass darkly)
By light bearers, empty pews.
Views expressed are those of a Cubist
Who sees all sides at once and paints them a little at a time—
Sketches come a dozen for a dime, big pictures take time.
Views expressed are those on murder, rape, abortion, nationalism, sexuality, legalism
Capital punishment, injustice, adultery, fornication, death, race, religion; and those
Of talking donkeys for the dispensation of pertinent information.
Views expressed are I love you views, I choose you views, I’ll school you views;
Views of life and light which enable vision at night. Views for conquering fright. Views for doing
What’s right. Views evidenced on what is not seen and read through the spiritual eye.
Views expressed aAre birds eye views. And these views are seed sown—
The waiting, then the birth brings flight. Free ride given for the
Price of one’s life. So stay tuned for more of the Good News.
These views are going all over the world. Hurry, but don’t worry,
These expressed views and flights
Are booked For they are in
8 The grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of our God stands forever."
4Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man does
not live on bread alone, but on every word
that comes from the mouth of God.
By Miles Battle
Rebel weapon of fear and anxiety
Used to stab hints of correction.
Dark cloud of self-sufficiency
Eclipsing the sun-rising of growth.
Burning coal of self-righteousness
Blackening the lungs of friendship.
Ego-shell of sensitivity
Breaking from the boldness of accountability.
Pitchfork of anger
Bailing billows of hellfire.
Heavy head of high-mindedness
Tilting the tide of God-favor.
Lofted eye of arrogance
Enemy of the humble, faithful, enlightened poor.
Crux of the cancellation by Christ’s crucifixion
Subletting strong-held sorrows to Sonlight.
Lowered look of love
Leaning to the wisdom of the lowly.
Morbid mental moodiness
Maximizing the mercies of the Master.
Irate isolation of insincerity
Pouring water of wonton wakefulness.
Subtle self-centered, I-protection
Summoning the surround of saints and sinners.
Cold conceit of me, me, me
Crashing to the floor of frequent fanfare.
Falling rain of vanity pain
Watering the green of new insight.
Peace-keep of courage and calm
Welcoming the world of win, warm, and wisdom.
2 When pride comes, then comes disgrace,
but with humility comes wisdom.
Miles B. Battle
October 14, 2003
He is the Author of all life who augmented His “I am” administration with man after He called, “Ay” to Abraham who was the Abba out of the
Beaming with his preeminent beauty with no need to become because He is who He is and He will be whom He will be.
Which is why only believers can See that Christ is the Anointed One in cahoots with the Creation Team; conducting his Comforter to encamp in the chosen.
He holds his designs dear to Himself like the designated dignitary of the Hebrews He referred to as “my man ‘D’.” He alone has the power to damn the demonic and destroy death. So he did. . .
Early riser on day three, Emmanuel effervesced, eliminating the everlasting affect of evil in His elected emissaries. This event made entrance to eternity exclusive, rendering attempts by entrants of external means an “E” for effort, and an “F” for nice try.
Faithful is the Father of the Main Feature who fought for me while He was in the flesh. He won,
giving great gifts to me and all generations. I call Him GOD— Gomer, Oz, Dubar—wisdom, strength, and beauty.
He goads the Moses in the God-blessed to go to all the Pharaohs and tell them to “Let my people go!” And have a good time in high level living.
However, He may hide Himself for a while as I heal from my headstrong hang-ups. He brews this Hebrew like coffee to exhume the heathen that from time to time just happens to raise his head.
This indigent should be rendered inexistent and so should I be because of my iniquity, but He is the redeemer of me and now I am the passion fruit of His eye. He’s insistently jealous (like a girlfriend, fellas) administering justice for my waywardness but often withholding this because of His mercy.
Not even a yellow sparrow or a blue jay can fall to the green earth unless He gives the okay.
My keeper does not ever sleep or slumber, but keeps the kilter in His kin. He’s the key to the door of everlasting live time. He is King of all kings and Lord of all lords, and an international Lover. Check out His lair in Revelations 7:9. Lenient and lethargic at lashing out, the Lord lowered the Paraclete who was the lamp stand that resurrected Christ, the living light, who took the “L” so that those who latch on would miss the fiery lake.
At this moment I move to maintain that the trinity is a majority—three are one, one is three, and also to make clear that the Master motioned to mesh the Messiah to men and women in one man.
Out of the many things I think about him I often fail to mention He was simply nice, neat and a Nazarene with nothing of opulence that would obligate the optical, though those of old were actually observing the Original Oracle. I open up to the Old Master of omniscience to whom I exhale homage of “Holy, Holy, Holy!”
It pleases Him to peep when I praise, pray, but especially when I practice what He preaches. The Prince of Peace promotes the priority and importance of all peoples while punishing the purveyors of perversity and prejudice.
He loves my acquaintances. He’s quick to restore quality to the lives of ravaged queens and brothers on the verge of quitting. I need to be quiet so I can hear Him when he quells my quixotic quests. Which leads me to ask one question, who or what is regulating your life?
He has one request—that you love Him with all your heart, reason, soul, and rigor. He released Himself as a ransom for my rescue so I ran to the resurrector so I could rest. I rendered my wretchedness to His Righteousness by recognizing that I am wrong and He is right.
So I said, “I surrender”. And so I’m saved, the Son shines as I submit to serve, and that sin stigma was smothered. Yet His spirit is still strong when I slow down or sell out. I’m still secure because of what the Savior said. He is soon and coming whereby I say, “sweet Selectah, com’ do’n!”
So He will. . .And turn the tables with perfect timing, transforming these terrible times into His tabernacle for one thousand years before the mass transit to eternity.
Under-girder of the humble, with an undying unction.
Vindicator who reigns victorious ready to vouch for my complete victory.
Not only me, but He wants to more than double you in spiritual size. So Why walk away from the only wise God, Worthwhile sacrifice, the Word, who waits with arms wide open to wash away the wickedness of those willing to become xenophiles of exponential knowledge, love, and life.
Waywards will become expatriates to sin being removed from the expressway to their external x-out.
Yield to the yearning and let Yahweh yank the heavy yoke from you.
Zone in on Christ and zoom from this
17 For the LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes.
Miles Brandon Battle