The God of Many Chances by Robert Phillip Woodhouse

spare parts

My God, my God, thanks for another chance. Instead of putting me in the graveyard, my God has given me another chance. By putting me in the junkyard, God knew that I needed some parts. In the junkyard there is a chance that my missing parts will be found. God will put them in. When the repairs are finished, God will give me another chance to serve Him. He will also give me the chance to restore my relationships with my children, grandchildren, family and friends. My God, my God, thanks for another chance.


Wedding Ring by Terrance Jones

When that day comes

I will make sure you pick the right one

I hope you shine brighter than any light.

You will stand for a bond between

me and a significant other,

bringing us even closer together

with loyalty, trust, love, and honesty.

I can’t wait until this is done

making us a family and mending

her and me into one.

Your shape is forever lasting and

forever ending

letting us know what we should

stand for.

Ohh! I can’t wait until this day

I take you and engrave you

for her finger.

It’s been a while but I hope

you make her smile.


Look What You Done For Me by Eric T. Robinson

Look what you’ve done for me. You told me you’d have my son for me. You broke the rules to have fun for me. In my darkest hours you were the sun for me. You took two halves to make one for me. You ran the race and won for me.

Look what you did for me. When I got locked up you did the bid for me. When I wanted to be low-key you hid for me. I told you I wanted a hat and you went to Lids for me. If I couldn’t myself you’ll fend for me. If I had one, you’ll give the other shoe for me. Change my gray skies into blue for me. Take something old and make it new for me. When I get sick, you would make stew for me. When I can’t figure it out, you’ll leave a clue for me.

Look at what I’m going to do, did and done for you. I told you I’d give a son to you. Stop the rain and be the sun for you. I ran the race and won for you. I called on break at one for you. I put down the gun for you. I held you every way it was fun for you. I changed. Don’t say I did nothing for you.

Time by Chris Hayden


Clocks go tick tock

and represent the time,

but time is a tricky thing.


It’s noon here —

but it’s 10 AM where my

friends are in New Mexico.


They say if we can find a way

to travel at the speed of light,

time would actually slow down.


Perceptions of time change —

if you don’t believe me,

have a minute of pleasure

followed by a minute of pain

and tell me if they feel the same.


I can’t change the past.

I live in the present,

and wonder what the future holds.


When I wrote the last line I was

in the present, but now it’s in the past

and this line was the future. Time

is a tricky thing.


Allow by Robert P. Woodhouse

imagesFMIGPW7RI have allowed my flesh to control me again. I have allowed it to send me to the pen. My flesh is weak, this I know. I must allow my spirit to grow. Life is short and full of surprises. Please don’t allow your past to affect your future. If we allow God to lead the way, I’m sure that tomorrow with be a better, brighter day. I refuse to allow my flesh to win. Because I’m tired of going to the pen.


My Name is Eric Terrell Robinson, Jr.

I was my own father, though I somehow possess another man’s name. Born in poverty, raised in poverty, but I told myself I wouldn’t be a product of my environment. I failed a few times, but I haven’t given up yet or ever plan to. I had a child early, went to jail, had another child. Went to jail. I had plenty of money and then plenty of days I slept in abandoned buildings. I had steak & shrimp. I had bag lunches given from a church. I had days of fun & nights full of pain. I mocked the unstable and I’ve been mocked when I was unstable. I hurt the ones that loved me and loved the ones that really hated me. I looked down on drunks & addicts and woke up one day addicted to coke, liquor and women. I let people cry on my shoulder and I cried on other people’s shoulder. I believed in God then turned around and said: What God? I would keep going, but my story is mine.


Focus, Please by Terrance Jones

I’m standing on the same corner

I stood on last week, doing the

usual. How the hell did you miss me?

Focus, please!


I keep falling down and you’re never

there to pick me up. I just continue

to lay and hope you would give me a lift.

I assumed you were here for me. If you are,

focus, please!


I’m not alone, but I really need you to get

me where I need to be. I may go with the

breeze and disrupt everything in my path.

There will never be more use for me going where I

need to go.

Focus, please!


I don’t understand how people ignore

their surroundings. Instead of littering,

please take care of your environment.





Please Listen to My Story by Eric T. Robinson, Jr.

Please listen to my story. I assure you it’s not ordinary. It’s not a novel. It hasn’t been documented on paper. But I promise, it’s still non-fiction. If it was on paper, this book would not be able to fit in no man’s library. My story has not been made into a movie. There isn’t enough money to get the necessities to reenact my life. Plus, who would want to watch the same movie over and over? Not I. My story is a testimony, only to be written on the tablet of my heart. A living story, which flows out of my mouth with sincere words, passionate truths, my eyes staring with boldness, cutting you with pain and wetting the ground below me with tears of joy. When I tell my story I’ll be slow to speak. You be swift to hear, because I’ll tell it once and walk off. Drop the mic.



After “Tomorrow Morning,” Edward Wadsworth, 1929-44


The blue sky hangs over the wooden



While the waves roll toward it in

from of the lighthouse


A sailboat moves across the bay as

twilight approaches


You can see the first star of night

shining in the distance


A lonely fishing lure lays on the dock

abandoned by the fisherman from earlier



The jetty feels lonely now that the

day is done


But there is also the excitement of

another day to come


and the new adventures that lie



The tides of people come with the



It’s lonely through the night of winter


And busy and exciting during the

days of summer


People come and go and grow and

move on


Some will be back next year while

some will move on with their lives


We won’t know who is which

until the next season of our lives begins


Chris Hayden


Writing in Response to One-Word Prompts


If God Had a Wife Her Name Would Be Grace

God’s Grace is more than enough for me. Because

of His Grace I’m still here. Because

of His Grace I didn’t get what I deserved

in court. Because of His Grace

I can now move on. Because of His Grace

you can tag along. Grace

is the substance of things

we can’t see. Grace

is the unconditional love

of God. Ask Him

for His Grace

so that you will be able to love.


Robert Phillip Woodhouse