Monday

You Didn't Want Dolls - a poem by Nicholl McGuire

This poem is a combination of contrast and rhyming poetry. The speaker is a frustrated Christian mother who shares her upset with a father of children who doesn't hide the fact that he doesn't want them. Toward the end of the poem, she warns witnesses. Enjoy!

Don’t be mad dad, when I’m bossy, overbearing, and overwhelmed when it comes to the children.

Society created me to be just what I am.
Playing with dolls during childhood, conditioned to be a mother.
Protective was I, my dolls were cared for.
Washed them, dressed them, carried them, fed them—It was I who loved them!
Told friends how to care for my dolls, talk to my dolls and play with my dolls.
If they didn’t treat them well, there was a price to pay – I cried, I fought about my dolls!
When I needed something for my dolls, I talked and talked until someone heard my pleas.
My dolls, they were there when no one wasn’t!  They needed me, like I needed them.
So don’t be mad dad,
if I fight you in court, I have good reason.
if I expect the children to behave, I have good reason.
if I need you to help, I have good reason.
if I want your help, I’ll ask.
You weren’t there when I played with my dolls.
Society put you in a truck, a car, a van, or a motorcycle when you were a child made you think you were a super hero.
You didn’t think about dolls.
Didn’t want dolls.
Couldn’t care less about dolls.
So please forgive me when I don’t step aside, don’t listen to you or don’t even want to play with you when it comes to our dolls!
Remember, you didn’t like dolls.
Dolls were not your friends.
Dolls you kicked aside, compassion you would not let in.
Dolls made noise, dolls weren’t for little boys.
You ran from pink, liked to play with stuff that stink.
You thought you had it all, as long as you had a ball.
But then you grew up and became a man.
Even though in the past, you ran.
Now you realize what to do, there are duties that come when you pursue.
Little girls become women, not just something to swim in.
So now you raise up concerns,
with unforgiveness in your heart, you yearn,
words and looks you use to burn,
your family.

Heed this warning, you who sit and watch my fit!
These are no longer the days of dolls, you have to watch real close lest you fall.
For seasons come and seasons go,
it's not about a holy show.
You don’t act like a God-sent family is nothing more than an anomaly.
Nor, do you compare what you have with others,
then talk about your own with the brothers.
For God sees all and many a man takes one long fall.
Watch their women go away with others,
While they sleep alone under-covers.
Dolls, dolls, dolls.
We see them in malls.
Crying out for dads,
while wearing clothing fads.
Crying out for moms,
like David with God in Psalms.
This is how we grow, this is how we show,
the truth about our ugly side,
between verses that don’t hide!
So look before you leap,
if you don’t want to be manipulated like sheep.
Men promise things,
Women expect rings.
Be careful of the next love song that you sing.


Check out more of Nicholl's online work here: nmenterprise7 - YouTube

Sunday

G.Craige Lewis: One False Move (True Church Perspective Podcast) - YouTube

Don't beat up people because you know the truth.  From pagan traditions to church attendance, we are to respect people even if we don't agree with their lifestyles.

G.Craige Lewis: One False Move (True Church Perspective Podcast) - YouTube

Thursday

Study with Nicholl - a partner with Amazon - Study Bibles

The best poetry is found in the Bible!  Do you know someone who could use a good Bible, some new music, or other Christian products?  Stop by my site: 

Study with Nicholl - a partner with Amazon - Study Bibles

Friday

Awakening from the Puppet Master from the One True God Almighty Master

The following poem can be related to a wide variety of systems put in place to manipulate the masses.  Without looking beyond your daily responsibilities, you will easily find yourself being nothing more than a puppet for Satan, a walking zombie ready to attack anyone who attempts to break the spell you're under, or one very much ready to die because you just can't stand the pressure.

So the puppet master sat us all down one day
Said he had much to say,
been responsible for many things,
had created scripts for kings.
Said he wanted us to know many truths.
Encouraged us to be truth-telling sleuths.


So he opened up his world,
showed us many little girls
with long hair wrapped in curls.

But legs were entangled and some looked as if strangled.
Said he had bound them like this, so they wouldn’t resist.
They were being trained to act like him,
only they were decorated with gems and trim.

For every gem had meaning,
“kittens and bitches” learned about gleaning.
Their jobs were to draw lost boys to wells,
but really, adult men ended up in hells—
deceived into thinking they were like the Prince of Wales.

He went on to tell us stories of old,
made up by men who were bold—
willing to lie for a piece of gold.

Showed us photos of slaves,
grown men made to behave.
From farm fields to sporting events,
hard men with harder mothers represent.
“This is the way we do it,” he said,
“Create the atmosphere, use, abuse, and commit to a bed.
 Loyal dogs follow their teachers,
and listen to godless preachers.
Pledge to a few, dreams must pursue
--only the chosen, a few.
 Now if they do well, rumors will dispel,
a story will tell, we ring the bell.
Freedom they are given, they make a great livin’.
But to those who are not well fed,
we put flowers on their beds.
Not worth the time and energy,
they don’t have the right synergy.
It takes many plans to rule the nations,
many infrastructures and stations.
People are more than what they appear to be,
Entertainers, soldiers, and many more, you see.
There are those who think like you do,
but don’t explore, review.
Take whatever we give them or lend them.
Make a fuss when they can’t get on the bus,
kick, scream, cry, and cuss."

The old man began to smile,
he showed us another file.
Pointed to those he had on speed dial.
“If ever there was anyone I needed,
they knew their job, they conceded.”
There are many like me, the old man laughed,
“but those old fools got the shaft.”
“Play along,” he warned.
It was the same tired song.

He wanted us to work for him,
but we knew about “them.”
The lies about our money,
the queen bee with all the honey,
the court jesters acting funny,
pretending everyday was sunny.

Talk shows, talent shows, reality shows, and videos with hos.
He claimed it all, his design,
he said, they were fed their lines.
All used to get us not to think,
Hoping we wouldn’t ask,
“What stinks?”

The rich, old man appeared to be alright,
but we could see he had poor sight.
Believed his own lies for far too long,
wanted us to sing his pathetic song,
“Listen and obey, listen and obey…
pray, pray to our dark god today.”

After all his teaching, it was time for us to go preaching.
But what he thought we were going to go out and say,
he was mistaken, we didn’t make his day.
For we had much to say...

“New levels, new devils.
New agendas and plans,
while the ostrich has his head
in quick sand.
Pay the people, pay the people.
Taking money from the steeples.
One true God watches all!
Humpty is about to have a great, big, big fall.
All his kings’ horses and all his kings’ men
won’t be put back together again!
Circles go bust, lies reveal,
secrets spill, and leaders pop pills.
Told you to go get your Holy Book,
But your head, it just shook!
Told you to take cover,
But you rather sleep with a lover.
Warned you of pending danger,
You saw the label, “Endanger.”
Your species is dying off,
they sold out, bent over
took a cough.
Raising up devilish things,
while building up many smokescreens."

Oh, the old man thought we were fools.
He forgot we went to higher learning schools.
Trying to distract us with big words and things.
Trying to tell us which songs to sing.
Didn’t think we would break programming.
Didn’t think we knew anything but to dance and sing.

While some play ball, distracted from a future fall.
We go out and stand real tall!
Hands held high—no fear to die,
running away from nightmares
while puppets walk with blank stares.

Do you really see what I see or do you prefer
to attack the one greater than me?
For there is one above, who is as gentle as a dove.
But more powerful than the strongest quake
and he will make the deceived shake.
Best be on guard for what is ahead
And stay out of the wicked one’s bed!

Nicholl McGuire is the author of Spiritual Poems by Nicholl, a creative work that illustrates the upset, frustration, but also joyful moments being a follower of the one true God!

New Audio Spiritual Messages by Nicholl