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tonight i look back and reach out my hand to walk with you..


i just spent two days in hell,
was it fun?
let’s just say the saying “hell yeah” wasn’t birthed in a vacuum.
and while we are at it, neither was, “hella cool”
did it satisfy my desires, i think for a second it did.
so i returned to that second time, and time, and time again…
but, then it left me.
and there i was all alone…
all alone in my vomit.
it’s here that you would be justified in asking whether i like the smell of vomit or not, because i spend so much of my time pursuing it,
returning to it and lying in it…
the truth be known i hate vomit,
but my body, my flesh…
you see my flesh doesn’t know that vomit is coming,
all it knows is what it feels,
and so it pursues it..
my mind..
oh, my mind knows that vomit is on its way,
but it just can’t seem to build up the strength, the faith,
the belief enough to stop my body,
so on it goes..
and, to cut a long story short, here i sit. no.
not in vomit, you see i’ve just cleaned off.
i had a shower and now i smell pretty good, and i look good to..
well at first glance that is.. haha,
if only someone had the courage and personal integrity to stare me in the eyes for longer than the accepted norm, they would see my..
well, they would see nothing, emptiness, a great darkness.
and, if they got up and left then. they would know nothing except my state.
but, there is something more than my state that i possess..
it’s this little thing that causes my eye to sparkle every time i remember its exsistence.
it’s the very thing that got me to pull my type writer out from next to my bed,
track down paper and hammer away at its keys for the last couple of minutes.
it’s the thing that keeps me pushing on through the vomit time and time again.
it’s my only,
it’s my everything..
it’s my hope.
hope that today will be better than yesterday,
hope that tomorrow will be better than today,
and, hope that the next time my mind know it’s on route to hell,
that it will have the strength, faith, and belief to turn my body around
and submit it to the truth.

to the compass of my heart, will i get up and run once again.

my heart is yours. x

forgive me.


there are a couple of scriblings that i really love and this is one of them: i was sitting outside touch of madness in Obz waiting for friends to arrive, so i got up got a beer from the bar and sat back down outside, only to jump up, quickly run back in and hassle the barman for some paper because i felt like I needed to.. well, scrible something. he kindly ripped his bar apart in search of a piece of paper for me ..and after much searching and no results, a waitress helped us out. needless to say, i got my paper, walked back outside (no-one had taken my seat..yay!), drew my weapon of choice from my pocket (my pen) ..and began to scrible..

I hope this takes you right back there:


what a beautiful night
if i could, that would have been in spanish.
the kiss of an amstel,
before the first kiss of rain
the chill of the crimson table
rusted, dirtied, painted only to begin.
today was a good day
it feels good to be alive,
it feels good to oppose evil
and fight for righteousness
the kisses of justice are
sweeter than the tungsten hue
the scriptures enriching, purpose-giving, right
i cannot tell, but i feel…
a bitter man curses as he walks the street
the chef returns to his kitchen
and i hear the music…
haha, the music plays through.
i’ll text a friend,a life-giver
i’m back and i stood up for the man who was
called: black
he stood against me for the sins of my fathers
as his children will stand against my children for my sins…
will i do anything to prevent that accurate accusation?
will i do anything for the children of our nation?
the children of your household Lord?
i pray i would…
i plead that my life actions would echo through the hallways of eternity…
but, if not, that i would simply be allowed
to walk the hallways that echo the legacies of the saints
wash my feet that i may enter.



to my gran who passed away on thursday, 07 september 2006.

a poem is too restricting,
words cannot describe.
a song is not accurate enough,
and in no scripture can my feelings be found.

i love you gran.
there’ll be moments when i miss you,
there’ll be days when i remember you.
the ones i’ll love i’ll tell about you,
and the ones you loved i pray will tell me about you.

i’ll always remember dinky-cars and chocolate bars!
i’ll always remember that i never once saw you cross,
angry or bitter. you never complained, you rolled with the punches,
you never forgot to sneak in a smile or find time to laugh.
you were always graceful and always loving. you brought
peace and calmness to every potential quarrel.
…and your very presence…the spark of contentment
and beauty you wore in every moment
will live with me forever.

i love you, i have always loved you.
say hi to grandpa and we’ll all see you in a while!

all my love, forever.

Your grandson, Anthony.


12.25.2011 the car to the AAA – costing $155 , the back tyres aren’t great will have to drive lightly…charlie is the mechanic. sitting in starbucks, it’s close to christmas and i can remember my first starbucks in london with nic and rich by the thames after the chinese expo at the gallery. my phone is dead. they are playing christmas songs on the radio and i want to be back home with my family, my dad, my mom, my brothers and my dogs and tiger (since i am dreaming i’m allowed this one!)

there’s a man outside,
his jacket is neatly perched.
his hair is white and groomed.
his shoes reflect the daylight.
he reads with his blue shirt tucket into his grey suit pants,
he leans to the left and writes with his right.

there’s a man outside,
his shadow falls longer than his figure.
his doormat goes before him
and he views the world over the rustling
and shifting of his possessions.
his shoes are brown
and no sun can find a reflection on them.
his skin is old and damaged
and the pigments on his neck are giving in
he packs his possessions away
only to begin again…
a new book
a new morning.
the air shifts as he lights up a cigarette
not only is ‘his’ pollution’ present
but, it now flies, it sucks, it expels all,
it eats at his being, consumed, dispelled
and there it sits
ashes to ashes the sigh,
the picture of this man’s heaven
and a mothers disgust.
will this be my brother?
but, he is.

the wheels on his cart are old,
even they show the signs of years traveled among these parts,
blocks walked, pavements left and can’s torn.

he is up and packing,
he adjusts his pants and walks.
he shifts his possessions and walks
the chevy tahoe hides his
i get one more glimpse…

he is gone.

he will never be my brother,
yet he is…
he is my brother,
he is our brother.
…but, that son was too heavy for any mother
and no brother could carry him.

but, my brother ain’t heavy!
none of them are!
none of them will ever be.
god bless them
god bless me.

okay, i’m off to get my car, bye-bye.


18 december 2005


i wrote this somewhere between november 2005 and march 2006. that places me somewhere between california, colorado, nevada, utah, arizona, tennessee, michigan, indiana, illinois, ohio and obvcause BARSTOW! but, from the sounds of things i was in a building when i wrote it, so that narrows it down to california, tennessee, and michigan.. and fortunately nowhere near barstow…shooooo!


Lord, please help me to love.
it must be really hard to be a christian –
to die to self – in this environment,
in this culture –
the pressure of the american culture is big.
it’s not that the people don’t
love God, love Jesus and his ways.
i believe they do
and Jesus resonates with every fibre of their souls.
it’s the lack of servant, selfless leadership.
it’s a lack of strong and i mean courageous leadership.

EXCELLENCE can’t buy Christ
and MONEY can’t buy Christ.
he will not be seduced by your worldly refinements,
none of your earthly accomplishments
and none of your great minds.
he is Lord.

i am sitting here
and i have never felt more separated from God’s community in my life.
this place is picture perfect,
and architects dream
and i felt closer to God and his people in the grass huts
and the wet tents of mozambique.
my God will not be seduced by anyone.
nor anything.
he is ruler of all
and in control of all.



she taught me to smile, and this is glimpse of how..if anyone’s seen her, thank her for’s been years.



introducing a friend of mine who taught me to smile in the midst of darkness

by her:

hey sweetiepea (anthony the great martin)

don’t be down
wipe off that frown
happiness is not far
it’s just where you are
so steal a moment in this solace
and look deep into the myriad of your mind
that is the force of your driving grind
it is so far within that we forget it’s there
off we go on a chase for another pear
that we think has unfairly stolen our peace
our solace, our love that’s ours and nobody elses’
when all along…true love
never disappeared, it was your choice to hide it.
you created this world around you
each and every bit you decided
so open your eyes, mr martin
stop being lost in life’s tangled tartin
feel your own
stop that moan
you’ve got it in your heart
only, you’ve buried it under
so take that plunder
into the unknown and discover what’s really there
it’s not a tear
it’s just a piece of the part
of your sacred heart
that if it was not broken
it would have been stolen
so it all fits together
even the parts that are odd or ‘not right’
are always packed very tight
in a package with the label
under the table
which says
mr anthony martin
this is your life
if it is to happen it will
even without your thrill
it’s meant to be no matter what
it’s moulding you into that person you are
even the downs have a lesson for you
so take this moment
and you’ll discover it’s true
you do not need others to source your upsetness
it’s all in the mind
it’s all in the grind
that is…it’s all inside your deepest darkness
which you shy from
but if there is darkness
in the absence of light
you know there is light somewhere in your abyss
to create this dark which you hate
so explore your darkness
and i promise you’ll find the thing that just tickles your toes
and erases your woes
its love, my love
it’s in your skin
but it’s not nearly as thin
it’s thick and neverending
always lending
a hand to your tears
and swallowing your fears
so i don’t know if this makes any sense
but take down that fence
you know the one that you built with your own hands
that fence that is your own restraint
from always tingling
all day all night
that very tingle
that told me “he’s nice”
you had the one thing
that (he) could never
it was your unconditional happiness
that drew me near
and now draws a tear
to think that you think it’s gone
no it’s there
you’re still shining
in my darkness
you keep me bright
so take this thought with you tonight
that its there in your heart
and all you need to do
is open that envelope called
‘happiness i’d rather squish’
and unfold it
and there you’ll find
happiness…true happiness of the mind.

ok, now my head is exhausted.
see ya…
call for a link in the ocean.


i’m not too sure where this fits into the journey, but, i thought it was worth slipping in here..

i scribbled this piece last week after being told about a place called prince albert. the picture that was painted for me made me wonder about this place i had never been, locked away in the middle of the karoo. as i sat and wondered, i couldn’t help but grab my keyboard and scribble down the thoughts that flooded my mind & continued to surface.

hope you like it, it’s been a while since i wrote..

my feet are wet as i walk through this barren land.
we cross over time and time again,
ever wondering if this shall be the last.
i pull. you are pulled.
you smile i am overwhelmed with joy.
you pull. i smile,
and our branches entwine as streams flow beneath.

the blink of an eye,
a falling leaf.
a blink of an eye,
i pull you smile.

as moments become minutes,
and hours are but a dream,
we lie beneath the trees,
the ones of whom we long to be.

free from the wind that dries my feet
free to the breeze that caused our smile to meet.

the blink of an eye,
a hand falls to the ground.
a blink of an eye,
these hours become ours.

Friday, 02 Dec 2011


here’s to hope..


Lord, thank you for the hope you have given me,
the hope that i can be a new person,
that i can one day love with an honest heart,
see with pure eyes,
and touch with care as my only motive.
you have given me hope,
hope that i can change,
hope that this mind that i have formed can be renewed,
that this life i have lived can be for something,
imagine living for something bigger that yourself?
i don’t mean telling people you’re living for something bigger than yourself,
i mean really, really living for others!
committing your every moment to the well-being of others,
committing my time, my energy, my passions to improving their lives,
committing my mind to the task of reconciliation,
to the task of redemption,
to the task of restoration,
firstly, to ones creator..
them one to another.
would that be a live worth living for?
would that be a life to the full?
would that life pull me out of the pit?
would that life restore my mind to that of Christs, who:
being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
and being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself and became obedient to death -
even death on a cross!

Therefore God exalted him the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on the earth and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the Glory of God the Father..

to the Glory of God the Father..
would that be a life to the Glory of God the Father?
if so, change me..
i believe so…change me.


..i once met a girl whose heart broke for the insignificant, unremembered and unimportant of society. i was never one of these. Yet, even though there were others that needed her more than i ever could..i desired her love..


is it selfish to desire love from another?
if so i am selfish,
for it is your love i desire.
each day it gets harder and harder to lie,
i wish i could just say it..
just to whisper it in your ear,
if only for a second..
to draw close
do i deserve your love?
i wish i could earn it,
because if i could i would work a thousand years.
i would sail a hundred seas
climb a dozen mountains
and cross ten thousand plains
but i know it can’t be..
and i know i am least deserving.
i was not abused,
my mind knew no limitations,
my heart knew no sorrow to burdensome,
my arms no baggage to heavy.
my legs have never known to long a journey,
my eyes to harsh an environment,
my ears have never heard my fathers voice raised
or my mom’s voice degraded.
i have never gone hungry,
i have never been thirsty.
but. i have felt sorrow,
i have known regret,
i have boarded with loneliness
and slept in the mockery of demons.
no feathers could keep them back,
no walls could give me peace.
no roof will keep me safe
and no door will stop the taunting..the endless..
endless taunting…
within a group of a thousand,
within a group of ten,
loneliness knows no numbers,
it only knows no friends.
is it too much to ask?
am i too far gone?
are you just another?
is my heart to die again?
i ask not.
i plead not.


wow! i love this piece of writing. yes, she is real and yes we did meet on an old school playground.. everyone of these lines is founded in a memory we have been blessed enough to share. The continents of the world have often found themsleves between us.. but, with every coffee, telephone call, email or magical glass of wine the voids between us fade into insignificance.. and our differences form one of the most magnificent puzzles I have ever had the privilage of our being a part of.. she was on her way again, and I realised I had never written to her.. so I stopped, sat down, opened my journal and scribled..

the journal of a smile. 8 – DEAR GIRL, FROM BOY

Dear Girl,

two paths were born
from two sets of lovers
a boy and a girl into this world
were seperately drawn

to the boy she was faceless
for the girl he could not say he knew

like doves in the sky
like sketches of the autumn leaves
he knew she would be swept in freedom like these

but for beauty he could not prepare
for care and joy as the sunshine
broke through her hair

none could steal what they had shared
the faceless girl was no more
and a friend in her place had been drawn
the two paths that were born
the boy and the girl who were as you remember
seperately drawn…

“eachother had found,
on an oldschool playground.”

even now the fun they share
allow them to dance
free and playfully
wherever they care

their worries are little
their love is great
and today the pencil lines that sketch their
neither the boy nor the girl
wish to seperate.

From Boy.


This was written in a little mini-city called Reading in the UK, it features in one of my favourite books REDmoonRISING, and it has become the home of one of my best friends in the world and his beautiful wife. So this little mini-city has a place in my heart. On route back to CapeTown from the USofA in April 2006 I popped into the mini-city and sat with a church..they gather in a gym hall and against the pulpit was a neon cross, like the neon they make “fish ‘n chips” signs from..was it cool, haha..put it this way I felt like I was in a anyway, I began to scrible, and these were my thoughts..


there’s a disco cruxifiction against the pulpit tonight.
candles on the tables,
and rollerrink spots…
the people are simple lifed.
they love,
they laugh.
they do love and
they do laugh.
i have nothing bad to say of them…
will this church change the world?
probably not…
but who cares.
i reckon they have more of a chance of changing a life
than those churches set on changing the world…
and you never know…
that life may change the world.
yup, i could believe that!
will this church change the world?
yeah, they will.


grace has covered me

but it’s sheets run off my body
i walk exposed with shame
and my reach is insufficient.

i can’t remember if it fell,
or of it was taken
but it is gone
and not even the thief knows her crime.

(written on 06 April 2006)


you have lied to me.

or, am i mistaken.
it doesn’t really matter…
does it?
party here, meet nowhere
work day, park at night
i’ve walked a mile in your shoes,
you breathed lies the whole way
then comfort you found
and i and your shoes stayed at the door.
is it really so hard?
am i really that heavy?
or are you just too weak.
am i blind…
can i see no more?
did we destroy eachother
was there no masterplan
or was it as i feel
that your gene’s are too cruel,
to self absorbed
to soaked
i guess you just leaked in my hand
and if it were not i
it would have been another
for even the dryest leak.

do you hurt?
do you cry?
do you feel my hurt
or is it something you deny…
do you care?
your selfishness has eaten me
for this expressions die.
will i rise?
as always, as before
but i wish to never come here again
i wish no-one to come here
and i wish no-one had been.

we were fools.

(written on 31 March 2006)


last night the devil wore my fingerprints.

i was guilty.
my being defined evil.
it snuck, it breathed silent infestation under the covers,
but nothing could hide my guilt.
i was sin bred, breeding.
i had handed over my number
and i had called.
there was nothing in my mind,
except the escape from shame
which only served to fuel it.
i was sin incarnate,
i was dead – i am dead.
the life that had me has left me.
i left it outside my first step
and it could not fight it,
it would not.
yet, it was not defeated
only the conquered cast shadows,
and my shadow was long.

(written on 14 March 2006)


..well, here’s where things get a little hard to introduce. I wrote this one the morning after as I sat up in bed in Michigan.. You might find the next few to just be posted without an explanation. If you really want to know, catch me over a jack ‘n lime at the local and we’ll have a chat. but for now here it is..


you can’t beat the devil
once you’ve freed the mind
you’re on it’s side
you can’t hide
the evidence has your fingerprints on
and it wears them with confidence
don’t raise your head
it looks for you
forget life, forget your plans
it’s time to run.
you can’t hide
it looks for you
the devil has your fingerprints.

(written on 14 March 2006)


I wrote this whilst under a blanket on a couch in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was mid-March, it was freazing outside, Longview was on repeat on the stereo..and these were my thoughts..


another night and my phone remains silent.
what does it take to make it ring?
i tried, i do try…
nothing. nobody nowhere
not even one soul…

well none that i can hear.

last night started out great.
but it ended the same as all the others.
defeated and all alone.

the fence sucks!
but so do both sides of it.
i wish there never was a fence,
no division, no partition…just people, humans…
soul to soul, body to body.
the touch of a hand.
the warmth of her finger tips, if only for a second,
if only an accident

i felt alive.
i felt loved.
i felt worth.
what i felt…was a mistake.
was it a mistake?

only the mind of one knows,
and i am not the one.

land of the free,
home of the brave…
i am locked inside this house and my courage is disarmed.

what do i have to do to get it back…
not my courage, not even my freedom
what do i have to do to get it back.

i am robbed, i am scared.
but you will not see this scar,
for the others hide it.

thanks. thank YOU!

(written on 13 March 2006)



this was the first official THE JOURNAL OF A SMILE post on myspace, it’s written as an ode to a great man that gave up everything, leaving all his family and friends in central africa to be with us in south africa, and after being diagnosed with a terminal illness was determined to remained in the last place he believed God instructed him to be despite the pleads of his family and friends back home. I had spent june in mozambique down the zambezi delta with some amazing people and upon returning to south africa we recieved the news that our friend had passed away. today his body is laid in south africa, the land he was called to serve in..this is the least I could offer..


money lay on the floor,
the cuts on my finger meant nothing.
our brother had stood at deaths door and entered in.

oh, our sacrifice.
oh, our pain.
how quickly we forget Christ,
Christ, our only gain.

we rejoice in this, we rejoice in that.
we lay claim to this we lay claim to that.
but what is ours?

what sacrifice is yours in comparison to Christ’s?
in comparison?
in comparison!

what lies we believe,
that we have given much.
when did we go hungry, get tortured, or had to much of life?

the sun rose,
and the sun set.
my life today is as if I had never left.

is the Lord good?
I have no doubt.
Therefore, our brother I know will walk death out.

Christ is his life,
and to die was gain.
I only know of one sacrifice,
that endures again and again.

in memory of our brother Matheus ( – 2005)


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