the todd b. waldo collection

The Tweets / The Books / The Band / The Questions
Poet and musician testifying to the truth. I am a storyteller.
~ Sunday, February 19 ~
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Since sharing Luke 7 at Commonweath Chapel earlier this month, many have asked to see it again.  Well, here it is! This is from 2004 at Bethel Temple in Hampton VA. You can also listen to the original performance of Luke 7 from Urbana 2003

Tags: poetry
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~ Wednesday, August 3 ~
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It’s very late Friday night
and I’m alone with my thoughts and reflections
of yesterday and the sin that so easily beset me

You met me in my failure
caught me in my fall
tourniquet around my bleeding heart
right there through it all

Love was in your words
Love was in your touch
Love was all you gave me
when death was what I deserved

I rejected you protected
I resisted you insisted that i was more than my mistakes
that I was more than my failure
with calling and purpose and gifting and living this way was less than
what you desire

You offered freedom and life
and hope and trust
so much more that youthful lust
or pride or greed
you said you would supply my every need

So you took my hand and lead me to the hill
where one day later you would stand to do the father’s will
you explained your plan, all that you would endure
and the abundant life that it would forever secure

Tonight they lead you down that road after tearing you apart
split in your face disgraced your name trying to break your heart
blood soaked each step toward Calvary with more agony still ahead
you endured brutality knowing soon that you would be dead

I have never seen anything so gruesome or severe
I turned away after the first nail but still I could hear
the pounding and breaking of your flesh and your bone
wondering how this is what the multitude did condone

Then the cross was lifted and you were spread across it wide
gravity working as designed forced you to slide
crowned a king with mockery forced your blood to flow
down your face to mix with tears, forgive them they don’t know

Seemed like forever the cruelty but at last there was an end
so It was finished you suffered all the punishment for my sin
and here I wait for Sunday’s rise when victory will be revealed
and the promise that you gave to us to be finally fulfilled

— Good Friday
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~ Monday, June 6 ~
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reblogged via kitspeaks-deactivated20110717
~ Monday, May 30 ~
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holysoul:

Al Green Rainin’ In My Heart (Live)

I love this session.


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~ Monday, May 23 ~
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reblogged via alexboydmusic
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[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

holysoul:

Marvin Gaye Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler)

Happy 40th Anniversary, What’s Going On!

Tags: music
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reblogged via holysoul
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lumpy-pudding:

Langston Hughes: Misery - from Play de Blues (Six Poems), 1926
Aaron Douglas, ill

lumpy-pudding:

Langston Hughes: Misery - from Play de Blues (Six Poems), 1926

Aaron Douglas, ill

Tags: poetry
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reblogged via lumpy-pudding
~ Monday, May 16 ~
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“Friends”

Today I logged into Facebook after being away for about a month. After scanning through a few wall posts, pictures and events, I realized how many significant life events I have missed in my “friends” lives.  And I felt bad about missing so much.

But should a Facebook update be the only way I learn about what is going on with my “friends”?  I think not. Direct communication has been replaced with a passive observance of a status or a like or a tag.

It’s just sad that some of our “friendships” have been reduced to this.


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~ Monday, March 21 ~
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Please excuse the interruption
But your beauty and your sexy essence
has inspired this poet to create and state
what should be obvious to a blind eye

You are unmatched
uniquely
completely
distinctly amazing
in every way
a hand crafted divine mix
of grace and glamour
with intelligence
a fine design
mind and heart
intertwined
in harmony with passion and purpose
in a relationship with those heels
that make my right eye cry
because it can hardly take it all in

You got me inclined
so
if you don’t mind
I’ll just rotate around you
and remind you of all I see
until this season ends

— Inclinded
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~ Thursday, February 17 ~
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you don’t really miss it
until it’s gone
and chances to regain are spoiled by pride
and insecurity
so you don’t even try

possibility slips through your fingers
and you wipe away the last tear
wishing you could have given just a little more
but your storage is empty
and it’s anguishing trying
to learn to trust and love again
when all you really want
is the impossible

— Me, lonely
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