About the Author

My name is Terrell Young I am a recent graduate of Kent State University.  My last class I took there was a prose poetry class that provoked this hunger to write.  I was born and raised in a Christian environment. I am a Youth Leader at my church (Faith Ministries Christian Center in Lorain Ohio).  I also have a band called N.O.W. (Nation Of Worshipers) that I write for and sing with.  I just wanted to share this new gift God has given me.

For use of any material please contact Terrell Young via email or phone
tyoung3@kent.edu  or tlyoung1@student.malone.edu
330-280-2129

Mission FireFly » Poetry » Terrell Young

Poetry by Terrell Young

A fortress of forgiveness

The earth here yields in submission, her green blades are pleading for the men not to sever any part of her precious body, and they do not hear her.  She weeps…  The infinite Heavens are to capacity I can hear the voices of one million wings whispering; the language they speak I cannot tell but it is one of great sorrow and despair.   They have been ushered in at Galgatha by the “Desire of All Nations”.  The sun, whose eyes have never closed, vows this day never to look upon this landscape of passion and compassion. His eyes slowly shut.  The sound of Silence quiets herself, rushing rivers and raging seas all become still waters.   The veil can no longer hold her seam.  Joy and sorrow clutch the east and west; from the north she is torn to the south.  The earth trembles in fear as she sees her creator turn His back upon her.  She then knows her life ended at the beginning…   

Sam’s Son

I am considered once then not at all, Cloves of great organs I cover, sometimes not so much. When there’s an aesthetic that runs dry as the Sahara, sunsets are more frequent, and I am deeply missed. I render security to the insecure; I am abused by flesh and bones of many sizes, seared with heat not known to man.  Swords dismember me, swords that separate soul and spirit.  It was law once to love me and let me live until another love was deceived now I am no longer a secret of strength.

The Race of a Covenant

  I ‘m chasing this angel and I don’t know why.  We race through familiar streams of laughter, sorrow, joy, fear, pain, death.  This place we are going I know the name but the destination I do not remember.  I’m seeing seas of trees and fields of clouds.  Finally I catch her, we don’t stop running; she is a perfection of what, I do not know.   Every part of her being has been hand placed, even her imperfections are perfect. While running we grow in great fear we feel still waters beneath our feet and see valleys of vipers and vultures.  We cross over the plateau of mundane covenants and enter into a mountain of grace.  Our feet still wet from joy, we climb. Reaching the highest peak we meet a man who was harsh to look upon; there was no guile found in his mouth. We stand before him and fall in love at his feet.

Knowledge I hate

I never thought You would look like Morgan Freeman (but it works somehow) I don’t know, some days I know it had to be you.  Finding my soul mate, seeing the clouds turn into a perfect heart on Valentines Day, or like when they found that little girl in that remote wooded area; the car accident I lived through…

But I got to confess, some days I am so angry with You!

I mean you new what he really wanted, I was in love, I was a virgin and he took that from me. I hated you for that. You knew that guy killed his wife and unborn child and he still got off…

you knew I would never see my father again and I didn’t get to say I’m sorry, You knew my mother was dying, her pain was unbearable and you just let her suffer, why? She never bothered anyone…

you knew that plane was going to crash with all those people on there, you knew that kid was going to kill themselves at school and you didn’t stop them; you knew all about the famine, earthquakes, tsunamis, riots and crap.  Did it really matter if that kid was gay no one had the right to kill him; I mean come on Man that girl was only six years old and look what that Monster did to her…  I Hate… I don’t hate you… I hate that you knew.   

Loves’ Conversation

This young lady gave me some quote by Marilyn Monroe speaking about love and kissing.  She said something like, “ you could give a kiss without love”. 

I respectfully disagree.  Love is inclusive of an infinite kiss.  A kiss is never exposed without her garment of love…

I do agree with you but it's best to love when it is right and for me...the quote remains true simply because the responsibility of love is too great. Not only that but what you think is love, always turns out to be something else.  So, I’ve seen both sides, but you got me thinking now!

Well said. But Love ...True Love stands on its own, it is our temporal comprehension where we fall short of an infinite being. What is disguised as love is mudane emotions that carry the obscure scent of mediocrity. The responsibility of Love is Love’s alone; we are only the benefactors. Love is a gentle man and a veiled lady; neither consider themselves they only seek what they can do for each other; Love is a weightless balance that measures our soul, love is selfless, it keeps no records of wrong doings, it is patient and kind, its voice is that of still serene waters that cleanses the sorrows of a million broken hearts, love, true love... is the well that will never run dry...

St. Paul

Every time I came here it was either the summer or the dead of winter.  This time was so different the sixteen hours seemed to fly by. Sitting in the broken captains seat wears on you not to mention the jerk of a brother who fills you mouth with the treasures of Econoline seats while you sleep.  Old pennies ancient happy meal fries, pieces of his brute deodorant, hair.

I see the most beautiful seen of death, Brilliant Burnt Orange, Macintosh Red, Sunlight Blonde, Soil Rich Brown, and Yiddish Yellow, leaves cascading down from heaven as a stairwell.  We stop in front of my grandmother’s mansion I see her dressed in a white gown that has no end.  She’s waving us in; her wave was that of a mother sending her son off to war.  It was like hello and goodbye at the same time.

The van stops and my dad starts to make a sound but I can’t hear him, I don’t know what he’s doing his body seems to take breathes on purpose. He shakes… My throat gets so tight tears are leaping out of my face and I don’t know why.  He cries I’ve never seen that before…

Some thoughts about a woman I love…

No words
Forgive my feeble attempt to express the true sentiments of my heart. For I have not the language that could remotely resemble what my soul feels. What can a man say to the prayer that came true, how does he responds to his hearts desire, can he respond to what has become his definition of being a man… to that I can only offer silence for it is the only element that will not contaminate my gratitude for you…

You…
You sound like the voice of a million hands caressing me, your smile is anchored by two pools of joy that house the autumn rose, the windows to your soul suggest a tent of almond, your infinite locks lead to a veil of desire, your breast do satisfy me, even your fragrance I am in love with, an endless well could never hold the capacity of one thought concerning you, you taste like that of a forbidden fruit, only He has allowed me to consume you whole; your feet possess precious stones that the earth has never seen; grace are your garments that only I may see through,

Loves pursuit
You could’ve chose some one else, you could have said no, as a matter of fact you did, you didn’t have to reconsider but you did, I know God was in a good mood the day His mind was full of you. You see He thought you might need a man to love you so He created me… He knew what you needed a placed it inside of me; I carry the purest thirst of love only for you. It’s endless… it’s a circle hmmm… inside my temporal being awaits an endless love just for you. You spoke to me and it awakened a fire that sears on your very voice. Your decision has caused an eternal dream to become a tangible reality I will spend my life in pursuit of your happiness…

The Seat of Sophist

      In the beginning there was less space and our minds were contained with tabula rosa, or blank slates of mud and mortar.  Settled in his most seasoned day, wise dumb rhetoric parts his mouth to render comforts of salutations.  A number of new beginnings set the capacity as we travel from afar to meet and discover the new world.   And we begin. 

To thy right hand sits the Queen of a Testament, she is said to be in covenant with one of the Gospels, she bore smiles that rest in her King’s bosom, full of truth she is; while sharing intimate moments. 

To her right hand sits the Queen of Strength who arrives straight from battle (carrying the young Swan Princess); amazed we all are by the considerate nature she possesses while sharing her great sense of grace. 

To her right is seated the Fairest Warrior Maiden, her feet adorned with shooting stars, her mind full of the purest vessels that speak of knowledge unknown to the immortals; there has been prophecy that her heart shall belong to a wild ass of a man who consumes poisonous fruit for his pleasure.

To her righteousness is seated the Greatest of the Minds.  He wears garments that are created from the ancient galaxy of earth.  His face wears the locks of lightning, the windows to his soul possess great discernment, and all the great minds study his pen only to be paralyzed with his wisdom.

From him he seats to his right This young squire, King Will I AM of Xerces, for centuries He spoke nothing and then one sunrise He decides we are worthy of his voice, full of a searing passion known not of this world.

To his right sits the Warrior King of Knights coming from infinite battles, slaying many with one thrust of his sword.  His arrival is something to behold as he rides This screaming chariot of black glass and precious stone,  his steps seemed to be ordered to this very destination, he rest his knight hood under his shoulders. 

To His right Sits the Queen of Light; so soft and settling her voice escapes her like soothing lavender veils.   Her garments hold the faces of those who have gone before her; she sits with a gavel of peace in her left hand renders us her judgment. 

I see all this and say nothing; for there has not been a language created to express the true sentiments of my heart.

Content with the greatest minds this side of the New Heaven we ascended and descended all at once to ascend once more.