Considering the pain...the fatigue...the general unease at which is my mental level at any given point of the day...it has gone fair.
Questions loom, doubt grows and walls make themselves known.
Being who I am and what I am...I don't know.
Breath in some life to me...these bones are weary...broken and unable to prop me up.
Love, You promise it to be overflowing and a world without end.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I was never aware of doubt being able to feel although it was so physically tangible.
What is this madness which possess my soul with fright?
What is this decaying feeling, this fear which clouds my mind, my soul and my very being?
What is this and whence did it come? How long to endure this mockery of a soul? This decaying principle which is nothing but a reminder of the lack of life?
I need help...I need strength...my soul is perishing in the midst of the pain of body and mind. I am alone in isolation only because of fear and my inability to accomplish something so minute.
What is this madness which possess my soul with fright?
What is this decaying feeling, this fear which clouds my mind, my soul and my very being?
What is this and whence did it come? How long to endure this mockery of a soul? This decaying principle which is nothing but a reminder of the lack of life?
I need help...I need strength...my soul is perishing in the midst of the pain of body and mind. I am alone in isolation only because of fear and my inability to accomplish something so minute.
Painting Red in Malcontent
Like a joke too twisted to count
your wings are missing
and left scars bigger than your heart.
Lies twisted in conversation
marking the downfall of this contortion.
Flitting feathers fall
but an angel you are not.
Just half breed of beast and spirit
not knowing why you kill
just that you consume.
your wings are missing
and left scars bigger than your heart.
Lies twisted in conversation
marking the downfall of this contortion.
Flitting feathers fall
but an angel you are not.
Just half breed of beast and spirit
not knowing why you kill
just that you consume.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Begin Anew
Faint shimmers of light
are just waiting off your horizon.
Darkness has crept
to the door to your heart.
Breath.
Live.
This isn't your end,
just the beginning of life.
As the thundering explosions
catch you,
and pull you forward
into dreams of a world you never knew,
know it's okay to doubt
just as much as you believe.
That love is the cross over your heart
and grace the light in your eyes.
That every step you take
leaves many with baited breath.
This next turn may be our last
so let us pray
and turn the face the coming day.
No regret of the past
or fear of the future.
Blessed daylight come.
are just waiting off your horizon.
Darkness has crept
to the door to your heart.
Breath.
Live.
This isn't your end,
just the beginning of life.
As the thundering explosions
catch you,
and pull you forward
into dreams of a world you never knew,
know it's okay to doubt
just as much as you believe.
That love is the cross over your heart
and grace the light in your eyes.
That every step you take
leaves many with baited breath.
This next turn may be our last
so let us pray
and turn the face the coming day.
No regret of the past
or fear of the future.
Blessed daylight come.
Awesome Reese Roper Interview
One of my biggest influence musically, lyrically, poetically and spiritually speaking is a little known singer/song writer by the name of Reese Roper. As one of the primary songwriters/vocalist for the bands Five Iron Frenzy, Brave Saint Saturn and Roper there was a certain element I've rarely found in music (much less in the quite often schizophrenic realm of 'Christian' music) that has manage to have profound way in which I've understood and have tried to live out my faith. I'm posting the interview in full for archival purposes mostly.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
An email interview with Reese Roper, current lead singer of Brave Saint Saturn and former frontman for Five Iron Frenzy and, briefly, Roper.
In the wake of Five Iron Frenzy, many fans wondered if the Brave Saint Saturn trilogy would ever see its third installment. But five years after “For the Light of Things Hoped For” hit stores, the new “Anti-Meridian” was finally delivered to the public. Out of this development emerges two questions. One, what were you doing between now and then? And two, what made you decide to go back and finish the project?
Well, many things. I started a new band that failed, worked at a genetics lab, was an electrician, and went back to school to become a Nurse Anesthetist. Mostly, that is why it took so long. All of us had to (and have to) have real jobs now, so it tends to smother the time we used to be able to make rock in. I had it really easy my first semester back at school, so my wife suggested I get a part time job. I was able to talk her into letting me use the time I would have spent working, into finishing the Brave Saint album, which Andy, Dennis, and I had been writing for five years. It was actually a terrible decision, as the next few semesters came about, and proved to be about ten times as difficult. The good thing is that it actually was finished in that time, and something that I think we are all proud of was made.
In what ways do you think you’ve grown between the two records (personally, spiritually, musically, etc)?
Musically, I think I am a much better songwriter, but I still have a long way to go. I have a problem with being obsessive about things that I am doing creatively, and it makes it very hard for me to finish anything I start, because I always feel like what I am making isn’t good enough. Spiritually, I think that I have really just become disappointed in the church and its response to the rest of the world’s needs. I think that the Christian church is as insular and backstabbing as it has ever been, and it has really affected my relationship with God. I know that I need to get over it, but it is definitely a struggle to separate that from the character of Christ. It’s hard to go to church, but I know that I need to be in fellowship, so I do. Personally, it’s good. Married life is good, school is good, etc. Also, Micah just had a barbeque for all the FIF alum, and everyone was there but Sonnie and Dennis. It was really cool to see all those guys and their families, and a lot of our old friends.
Now, without spoiling it for those who haven’t heard the record all the way through, the first space mission has come to a close, but there is an obvious hint at a future for the crew of the USS Gloria. Speaking in real-life music industry terms, what might this future look like for Brave Saint Saturn?
Honestly, it kind of depends on how this album does. A few weeks ago, I was about ready to throw in the towel on it all, but it seems that our digital sales are going through the roof (comparatively, of course). I’m not sure if it’s just because we don’t have distribution, or that no one wants to buy actual CDs anymore (or the album completely sucks), but online sales are still strong. Another problem that we are facing is that it is really hard to get songs on the radio without label backing, and without being a touring band. We hired someone to work “Starling” as a single to the Christian market, and it was really only added to about 12 radio stations. Even with the deal he gave us to pitch it to radio stations, I’m not really sure it was very cost effective. It’s sad that the fact that we’ve had relationships with the people at some of those radio stations for 12 years or so, and it means nothing. I think it’s even more sad that what goes on Christian radio has more to do with money than it does with reaching the lost, or even just something as simple as playing good music. It’s stupid. In a perfect world, House of Heroes would be bigger than Fallout Boy right now, but it just doesn’t work that way. The system stinks, but the common denominator in all of it is that radio stations won’t take risks. They are concerned with the business end far more than they are with the music end, and especially the Christianity end. So, long story short, I don’t think I have it in me to do it this way again. We still might have some more albums in us, but we are still waiting to see if it will be feasible to do financially.
Writing a concept album can be a difficult task. How much do you make sure each song relates to the larger theme, and how much do you allow other more personal songs to enter the record?
We decided early on to make it a thematic concept, rather than a type of rock opera. As we came up with the idea for making a trilogy about astronauts lost in space, and using that metaphor for a person’s life, it became easier to write those songs, just because they are really about our own lives. We actually chose the metaphor haphazardly, but found out that it was amazing how easily it applied to us. The song “Daylight” may seem like it is about astronauts trapped in the dark and then suddenly seeing daylight for the first time in years, but it speaks volumes about where I was at that point, and where I think most people will have to go in their Christian lives. So, basically, we try and write the best and most honest songs as we are able to, then we arrange them on the albums so that they at least fit the story emotionally. Some of them are written more about the actual story line than others, so we try to fill in the gaps in the plot with soundbytes, or with spoken word, or, like on this latest album, the fake interviews. That way it comes together as a whole, but each song can usually stand on its own without the story.
One song that stood out for me on the new album was “Blessed Are the Landmines.” I love the message behind this song, but I was surprised to hear the sound clip from Pat Robertson. What made you decide to insert that? Are you worried about any backlash?
Part of the decision to put this album out ourselves was that we didn’t want to have to deal with a record company telling us what we could and could not put on the record. I guarantee you that any record label I have ever been on would have made us cut that song, so I am glad we made the decision to release it ourselves, if just for that. I have nothing against Mr. Robertson personally, (in fact I grew up watching the 700 Club and I know that they are responsible for so much good in the world), but I felt that when he said that we should “assassinate” Hugo Chavez, it sounded like he had become the mouthpiece for what much of the American Church actually is feeling today. I was always taught that our interpretation of Scripture should be done through examining the character of Jesus Christ and His actions. From most of what makes it to the media, the church is moving farther and farther away from acting anything like Jesus. We picket the funerals of servicemen with signs reading “God hates fags.” We are obsessed with stopping homosexuals from getting married while the divorce rate within the Church is higher than outside of it. We are overwhelmed with preaching prosperity and new ways to obtain wealth. We have stapled the name of Jesus Christ to our politicians, our political movements, and our wars, and we have told every scared girl and woman who accidentally gets pregnant that she must live with the consequences, while we shun her, and that we hate all who have made the choice to have an abortion. There is not a very public face of Christianity telling the world that Jesus Christ is not like that. He loved the poor; He was homeless and died in poverty; He was murdered by the religious people; His closest friends were thieves, extortionists, and prostitutes who knew they were wrong and knew that they needed Him. The only time He ever even really lost His temper was to overthrow the money-changers in the temple who were corrupted by their position of power, and using it to manipulate and oppress the less fortunate. If this song is offensive, it’s because the Beatitudes are offensive. No church, or Christian, should ever think that war can bring peace.
Violence only begets more violence. Either we are to live our lives trying to emulate the character of Christ, seeing violence as a last resort, and ONLY to save the weak from the strong, or the beatitudes are wrong. It has nothing to do with politics. If you have chosen to follow Christ, then you should be known for making peace, not for siding with one political party over another, and certainly not for warmongering. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” I don’t think that aligning the Church with any political party has ever panned out well, since Constantine made Christianity the official religion of Rome in 312 AD. So, to answer your question: no, I am not worried about any backlash.
The other song that jumps out right away is “Fortress of Solitude.” Have things really been that bad with old Five Iron fans? How do you deal with still being so idolized? Is it creepy that when I was thirteen I named my cat Reese? (I was almost too embarrassed to include that last part.)
That is a weird name for a cat, for sure. Really, that song isn’t so much about me being idolized as it is about how the expectation for me to be better than I actually am, was kind of making me crazy. As I said before, I tend to have a really obsessive personality. For instance: I can’t start a new video game until I have completed the old one. I can’t let anyone else help me, and I have been known to play the same game for days without sleeping. It’s not that I am obsessed with video games, more that I have this obsessive personality. So with music, it manifests itself in the fact that it is very hard for me to finish something, because I can’t ever seem to get songs the way I picture them in my head. It is hard for me to ask for help, and very hard when somebody who is helping me makes the music worse. As a joke, I started calling my studio in our basement, “The Fortress of Solitude” to my wife. One day I realized that I was spending almost every spare moment down there obsessing over this album. The Superman imagery in the song kind of came from that realization that I was trying to be something that I was not. I was growing angry at all of the fans for expecting me to be something I never was, but I felt like I had to be. So that is basically what that song is about, not so much about the fans, but about me- driving myself crazy.
What message might you have for such fans that are still living in the glory days of FIF and haven’t realized the band broke up? Is there really, as they believe, hope for a reunion to play the major festivals or whatever?
I guess there is someday. Right now, I would say that I never want it to happen, but I think I warm up to the idea a little bit more each day. I would do it for the rest of the guys, but personally, I just don’t miss that part of my life. What I do miss, are my friends from the band, so I would rather just have a giant barbeque, or vacation with them and all of their families. Being in Five Iron was crazy enough before we were married and everyone had kids. I can’t imagine just trying to play one show with that many extra people to manage. Give it about 5 more years or so. Maybe we can talk about it then.
Your guitarist, Dennis Culp, sang on more tracks than usual this time around. Did things just work out that way, or is this a calculated new direction for BS2?
No, not a new direction. I think in the past, Dennis was writing most of the songs for Five Iron, so Brave Saint went on the back burner for him. Now, this is all we have, musically, so we both wrote a ton of songs for it. I had four songs cut, Andy had three, and Dennis only lost one. It just turned out that his four were better for the album than the others that were cut. Also, he is a baritone usually, who can go into the tenor range, while I sing like a girl. So he quit trying to get me to sing melodies he had written after “Dandelions.” His voice just sounds better on his songs.
What’s one of the most important things you’ve learned over the past fifteen years since the inception of Five Iron Frenzy?
I think the most important thing I could tell you is that whatever you are doing in life, you need to sit down and figure out a plan. Then give that over to the Lord with the knowledge that He is good, and wants the best for you, so it may not happen, but the Lord is good. We never thought ahead in Five Iron because we were always just so amazed that we were able to be doing the things that we did as they happened. Now I wish that I had a time machine to go back and tell myself to plan for the future. We never did, and so we ended up fighting for stupid things that don’t matter anymore, while letting some really important things just pass us by. Plan ahead. Pick your battles.
Lastly, I have a question about Space Robot Five. Is he alive?
He is. And he has greatly enjoyed answering your questions.
Thanks for taking the time to answer some questions for those of us at Indie Vision Music. Anything else you want to say in conclusion?
How about a quote… “All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom; justice; honor; duty; mercy; hope.” -Sir Winston Churchill
The interview was lifted from:
http://www.indievisionmusic.com/wordpress/2009/04/09/brave-saint-saturn/
http://www.purevolume.com/bravesaintsaturn
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
An email interview with Reese Roper, current lead singer of Brave Saint Saturn and former frontman for Five Iron Frenzy and, briefly, Roper.
In the wake of Five Iron Frenzy, many fans wondered if the Brave Saint Saturn trilogy would ever see its third installment. But five years after “For the Light of Things Hoped For” hit stores, the new “Anti-Meridian” was finally delivered to the public. Out of this development emerges two questions. One, what were you doing between now and then? And two, what made you decide to go back and finish the project?
Well, many things. I started a new band that failed, worked at a genetics lab, was an electrician, and went back to school to become a Nurse Anesthetist. Mostly, that is why it took so long. All of us had to (and have to) have real jobs now, so it tends to smother the time we used to be able to make rock in. I had it really easy my first semester back at school, so my wife suggested I get a part time job. I was able to talk her into letting me use the time I would have spent working, into finishing the Brave Saint album, which Andy, Dennis, and I had been writing for five years. It was actually a terrible decision, as the next few semesters came about, and proved to be about ten times as difficult. The good thing is that it actually was finished in that time, and something that I think we are all proud of was made.
In what ways do you think you’ve grown between the two records (personally, spiritually, musically, etc)?
Musically, I think I am a much better songwriter, but I still have a long way to go. I have a problem with being obsessive about things that I am doing creatively, and it makes it very hard for me to finish anything I start, because I always feel like what I am making isn’t good enough. Spiritually, I think that I have really just become disappointed in the church and its response to the rest of the world’s needs. I think that the Christian church is as insular and backstabbing as it has ever been, and it has really affected my relationship with God. I know that I need to get over it, but it is definitely a struggle to separate that from the character of Christ. It’s hard to go to church, but I know that I need to be in fellowship, so I do. Personally, it’s good. Married life is good, school is good, etc. Also, Micah just had a barbeque for all the FIF alum, and everyone was there but Sonnie and Dennis. It was really cool to see all those guys and their families, and a lot of our old friends.
Now, without spoiling it for those who haven’t heard the record all the way through, the first space mission has come to a close, but there is an obvious hint at a future for the crew of the USS Gloria. Speaking in real-life music industry terms, what might this future look like for Brave Saint Saturn?
Honestly, it kind of depends on how this album does. A few weeks ago, I was about ready to throw in the towel on it all, but it seems that our digital sales are going through the roof (comparatively, of course). I’m not sure if it’s just because we don’t have distribution, or that no one wants to buy actual CDs anymore (or the album completely sucks), but online sales are still strong. Another problem that we are facing is that it is really hard to get songs on the radio without label backing, and without being a touring band. We hired someone to work “Starling” as a single to the Christian market, and it was really only added to about 12 radio stations. Even with the deal he gave us to pitch it to radio stations, I’m not really sure it was very cost effective. It’s sad that the fact that we’ve had relationships with the people at some of those radio stations for 12 years or so, and it means nothing. I think it’s even more sad that what goes on Christian radio has more to do with money than it does with reaching the lost, or even just something as simple as playing good music. It’s stupid. In a perfect world, House of Heroes would be bigger than Fallout Boy right now, but it just doesn’t work that way. The system stinks, but the common denominator in all of it is that radio stations won’t take risks. They are concerned with the business end far more than they are with the music end, and especially the Christianity end. So, long story short, I don’t think I have it in me to do it this way again. We still might have some more albums in us, but we are still waiting to see if it will be feasible to do financially.
Writing a concept album can be a difficult task. How much do you make sure each song relates to the larger theme, and how much do you allow other more personal songs to enter the record?
We decided early on to make it a thematic concept, rather than a type of rock opera. As we came up with the idea for making a trilogy about astronauts lost in space, and using that metaphor for a person’s life, it became easier to write those songs, just because they are really about our own lives. We actually chose the metaphor haphazardly, but found out that it was amazing how easily it applied to us. The song “Daylight” may seem like it is about astronauts trapped in the dark and then suddenly seeing daylight for the first time in years, but it speaks volumes about where I was at that point, and where I think most people will have to go in their Christian lives. So, basically, we try and write the best and most honest songs as we are able to, then we arrange them on the albums so that they at least fit the story emotionally. Some of them are written more about the actual story line than others, so we try to fill in the gaps in the plot with soundbytes, or with spoken word, or, like on this latest album, the fake interviews. That way it comes together as a whole, but each song can usually stand on its own without the story.
One song that stood out for me on the new album was “Blessed Are the Landmines.” I love the message behind this song, but I was surprised to hear the sound clip from Pat Robertson. What made you decide to insert that? Are you worried about any backlash?
Part of the decision to put this album out ourselves was that we didn’t want to have to deal with a record company telling us what we could and could not put on the record. I guarantee you that any record label I have ever been on would have made us cut that song, so I am glad we made the decision to release it ourselves, if just for that. I have nothing against Mr. Robertson personally, (in fact I grew up watching the 700 Club and I know that they are responsible for so much good in the world), but I felt that when he said that we should “assassinate” Hugo Chavez, it sounded like he had become the mouthpiece for what much of the American Church actually is feeling today. I was always taught that our interpretation of Scripture should be done through examining the character of Jesus Christ and His actions. From most of what makes it to the media, the church is moving farther and farther away from acting anything like Jesus. We picket the funerals of servicemen with signs reading “God hates fags.” We are obsessed with stopping homosexuals from getting married while the divorce rate within the Church is higher than outside of it. We are overwhelmed with preaching prosperity and new ways to obtain wealth. We have stapled the name of Jesus Christ to our politicians, our political movements, and our wars, and we have told every scared girl and woman who accidentally gets pregnant that she must live with the consequences, while we shun her, and that we hate all who have made the choice to have an abortion. There is not a very public face of Christianity telling the world that Jesus Christ is not like that. He loved the poor; He was homeless and died in poverty; He was murdered by the religious people; His closest friends were thieves, extortionists, and prostitutes who knew they were wrong and knew that they needed Him. The only time He ever even really lost His temper was to overthrow the money-changers in the temple who were corrupted by their position of power, and using it to manipulate and oppress the less fortunate. If this song is offensive, it’s because the Beatitudes are offensive. No church, or Christian, should ever think that war can bring peace.
Violence only begets more violence. Either we are to live our lives trying to emulate the character of Christ, seeing violence as a last resort, and ONLY to save the weak from the strong, or the beatitudes are wrong. It has nothing to do with politics. If you have chosen to follow Christ, then you should be known for making peace, not for siding with one political party over another, and certainly not for warmongering. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” I don’t think that aligning the Church with any political party has ever panned out well, since Constantine made Christianity the official religion of Rome in 312 AD. So, to answer your question: no, I am not worried about any backlash.
The other song that jumps out right away is “Fortress of Solitude.” Have things really been that bad with old Five Iron fans? How do you deal with still being so idolized? Is it creepy that when I was thirteen I named my cat Reese? (I was almost too embarrassed to include that last part.)
That is a weird name for a cat, for sure. Really, that song isn’t so much about me being idolized as it is about how the expectation for me to be better than I actually am, was kind of making me crazy. As I said before, I tend to have a really obsessive personality. For instance: I can’t start a new video game until I have completed the old one. I can’t let anyone else help me, and I have been known to play the same game for days without sleeping. It’s not that I am obsessed with video games, more that I have this obsessive personality. So with music, it manifests itself in the fact that it is very hard for me to finish something, because I can’t ever seem to get songs the way I picture them in my head. It is hard for me to ask for help, and very hard when somebody who is helping me makes the music worse. As a joke, I started calling my studio in our basement, “The Fortress of Solitude” to my wife. One day I realized that I was spending almost every spare moment down there obsessing over this album. The Superman imagery in the song kind of came from that realization that I was trying to be something that I was not. I was growing angry at all of the fans for expecting me to be something I never was, but I felt like I had to be. So that is basically what that song is about, not so much about the fans, but about me- driving myself crazy.
What message might you have for such fans that are still living in the glory days of FIF and haven’t realized the band broke up? Is there really, as they believe, hope for a reunion to play the major festivals or whatever?
I guess there is someday. Right now, I would say that I never want it to happen, but I think I warm up to the idea a little bit more each day. I would do it for the rest of the guys, but personally, I just don’t miss that part of my life. What I do miss, are my friends from the band, so I would rather just have a giant barbeque, or vacation with them and all of their families. Being in Five Iron was crazy enough before we were married and everyone had kids. I can’t imagine just trying to play one show with that many extra people to manage. Give it about 5 more years or so. Maybe we can talk about it then.
Your guitarist, Dennis Culp, sang on more tracks than usual this time around. Did things just work out that way, or is this a calculated new direction for BS2?
No, not a new direction. I think in the past, Dennis was writing most of the songs for Five Iron, so Brave Saint went on the back burner for him. Now, this is all we have, musically, so we both wrote a ton of songs for it. I had four songs cut, Andy had three, and Dennis only lost one. It just turned out that his four were better for the album than the others that were cut. Also, he is a baritone usually, who can go into the tenor range, while I sing like a girl. So he quit trying to get me to sing melodies he had written after “Dandelions.” His voice just sounds better on his songs.
What’s one of the most important things you’ve learned over the past fifteen years since the inception of Five Iron Frenzy?
I think the most important thing I could tell you is that whatever you are doing in life, you need to sit down and figure out a plan. Then give that over to the Lord with the knowledge that He is good, and wants the best for you, so it may not happen, but the Lord is good. We never thought ahead in Five Iron because we were always just so amazed that we were able to be doing the things that we did as they happened. Now I wish that I had a time machine to go back and tell myself to plan for the future. We never did, and so we ended up fighting for stupid things that don’t matter anymore, while letting some really important things just pass us by. Plan ahead. Pick your battles.
Lastly, I have a question about Space Robot Five. Is he alive?
He is. And he has greatly enjoyed answering your questions.
Thanks for taking the time to answer some questions for those of us at Indie Vision Music. Anything else you want to say in conclusion?
How about a quote… “All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom; justice; honor; duty; mercy; hope.” -Sir Winston Churchill
The interview was lifted from:
http://www.indievisionmusic.com/wordpress/2009/04/09/brave-saint-saturn/
http://www.purevolume.com/bravesaintsaturn
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sweet Night Dark Dreams
I can sing song about hope
and bring you word of peace
but none of it will mean anything
as long as my heart hasn't felt love.
Left here wanting
and needing hope
I'm here with my heart broke open
being cut by sincerity
and my lack of faith,
just knowing my inability to trust
will be my downfall
as I hope for you here.
Shadows cast upon your waking mind
where the light and dark dance
and make love over this vista.
Brilliant and vibrant colors
soon swallowed
by the explosion of fear and doubt
that plague the waking mind
as we attempt to connect
over this chasm.
Is this all we have left?
This fragile state of being,
mere slivers of hope
daring to stand against the night?
What life is this?
What hope?
Who dares to speak into the night of such things?
Were the dawn not so far
could we hope for hope?
Dare to believe in the impossible
that miracles are true
and that hope is not just an illusion?
Broad strokes of red paint
make the outline of your hope.
Every fragrant fragment casting about
reminding me of Christmas morning,
just from years ago.
When presents meant something
and hope could learn to fly so easily,
before it was replaced with automated thought
and these mechanically empirical responses.
For me to decide again
would mean to let my soul bleed again
and to cast off into this darkness,
wearing hope as a disguise of dignity,
that I might hide my frayed soul
and all its unkempt mask.
Nothing is more brilliant
than hiding in plain sight,
so here I am.
What more is there to say?
You've only seen me for a few moments
but every decision you ever made
was instantaneously made,
and you want to talk now.
I'm not sure what there is to say.
We can have a conversation
and a break for the month of May
but what of this?
What of an option?
Something other then a vague display?
I'm not sure.
I just lack the coherency to make words
or just to make myself, to make you
or any of this just work.
Right now there isn't much left,
the house is burning
and everything left was already spent.
All the will remain is me.
I'm not sure what you wanted to hear
or what would satisfy your mind
but truth is truth
and there isn't much left but that.
Which is in and of itself a useless effort
because we never could define truth
in a way to make you happy.
Sigh.
Call me Pollyanna or simply a loon
but there has to be some hope left
with all that remains.
Pale lunar light casting about,
gentle reflections of a harsh reality,
if this can be true
then there has to be hope that remains.
Hope, faith and love.
The chief of which must be love
to temper the pain in my heart
into an object of use
and to dissuade the fear
which encapsulates my life.
Shadow lies holding truths
to potent for life.
All we have is this simulacrum
and hope for hope.
Fiction being what you don't want to hear
and reality being the pain,
the living organic pain
shifting and daring,
just daring you to move.
and bring you word of peace
but none of it will mean anything
as long as my heart hasn't felt love.
Left here wanting
and needing hope
I'm here with my heart broke open
being cut by sincerity
and my lack of faith,
just knowing my inability to trust
will be my downfall
as I hope for you here.
Shadows cast upon your waking mind
where the light and dark dance
and make love over this vista.
Brilliant and vibrant colors
soon swallowed
by the explosion of fear and doubt
that plague the waking mind
as we attempt to connect
over this chasm.
Is this all we have left?
This fragile state of being,
mere slivers of hope
daring to stand against the night?
What life is this?
What hope?
Who dares to speak into the night of such things?
Were the dawn not so far
could we hope for hope?
Dare to believe in the impossible
that miracles are true
and that hope is not just an illusion?
Broad strokes of red paint
make the outline of your hope.
Every fragrant fragment casting about
reminding me of Christmas morning,
just from years ago.
When presents meant something
and hope could learn to fly so easily,
before it was replaced with automated thought
and these mechanically empirical responses.
For me to decide again
would mean to let my soul bleed again
and to cast off into this darkness,
wearing hope as a disguise of dignity,
that I might hide my frayed soul
and all its unkempt mask.
Nothing is more brilliant
than hiding in plain sight,
so here I am.
What more is there to say?
You've only seen me for a few moments
but every decision you ever made
was instantaneously made,
and you want to talk now.
I'm not sure what there is to say.
We can have a conversation
and a break for the month of May
but what of this?
What of an option?
Something other then a vague display?
I'm not sure.
I just lack the coherency to make words
or just to make myself, to make you
or any of this just work.
Right now there isn't much left,
the house is burning
and everything left was already spent.
All the will remain is me.
I'm not sure what you wanted to hear
or what would satisfy your mind
but truth is truth
and there isn't much left but that.
Which is in and of itself a useless effort
because we never could define truth
in a way to make you happy.
Sigh.
Call me Pollyanna or simply a loon
but there has to be some hope left
with all that remains.
Pale lunar light casting about,
gentle reflections of a harsh reality,
if this can be true
then there has to be hope that remains.
Hope, faith and love.
The chief of which must be love
to temper the pain in my heart
into an object of use
and to dissuade the fear
which encapsulates my life.
Shadow lies holding truths
to potent for life.
All we have is this simulacrum
and hope for hope.
Fiction being what you don't want to hear
and reality being the pain,
the living organic pain
shifting and daring,
just daring you to move.
Light Blue Life
Gray morning, seven thirty
the alarm is saying it's time to go.
Time to move on
Time to move forward, begin again.
Barely aware, the mind is still at twilight
it's still the time to move
going on auto pilot
or any means you've got left.
It's not like this is a list
showing you were you've been
or where you have to go.
It's not like your life
is governed by anything
but what you let it be.
Disorderly complicated systems
bearing false witness
in the subterfuge of your mind.
Even with the white clothes
and your wings
it's not too hard to see you fell
and when you fell you broke it all.
When you look in the mirror
you are the only one who doesn't see.
Begin again here
long enough and you'll see
pale reflections in the moon light
casting shadows
that burn deeply in the mind
flirting about with electrical impulses
neurological in orgin
numberical but not yet divine.
Is this what you wanted?
What you came to see?
Shadows along the line casting doubt?
I don't know what this was
or where it was going
or what it'll be.
The shadows of your past are just waiting,
here for you like old friends.
Where any of this goes is up to you
but don't think I'm here for it too.
I'm just stuck on this sinking ship
hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
the alarm is saying it's time to go.
Time to move on
Time to move forward, begin again.
Barely aware, the mind is still at twilight
it's still the time to move
going on auto pilot
or any means you've got left.
It's not like this is a list
showing you were you've been
or where you have to go.
It's not like your life
is governed by anything
but what you let it be.
Disorderly complicated systems
bearing false witness
in the subterfuge of your mind.
Even with the white clothes
and your wings
it's not too hard to see you fell
and when you fell you broke it all.
When you look in the mirror
you are the only one who doesn't see.
Begin again here
long enough and you'll see
pale reflections in the moon light
casting shadows
that burn deeply in the mind
flirting about with electrical impulses
neurological in orgin
numberical but not yet divine.
Is this what you wanted?
What you came to see?
Shadows along the line casting doubt?
I don't know what this was
or where it was going
or what it'll be.
The shadows of your past are just waiting,
here for you like old friends.
Where any of this goes is up to you
but don't think I'm here for it too.
I'm just stuck on this sinking ship
hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Briefly Spoken Words at Half
What is a smile?
But the smallest and most genuine token of the heart.
A gift given to embolden the spirit
and hearten in through storm and trial.
Hearkening strength and delivering merit
it protects the soul from fiery darts
delivered through mispronunciation
and what has become dire bitterness.
But what is this smile?
A gift to deliver me through this trial
lifting me by blessing
regardless of my mess and my inability for lifting.
My fear is that someday we might
become each others own worst enemy
that distance and miles will pile
in width and height,
that we will only agree
that we simply must disagree
and begin the soul's final exile.
But hope still remains.
With both love and faith,
remaining the steadfast bane
of every demon, every liar
and every foe before our path.
Their loss becomes our gain
becoming hollowed words that hath
rendered our love complete.
But the smallest and most genuine token of the heart.
A gift given to embolden the spirit
and hearten in through storm and trial.
Hearkening strength and delivering merit
it protects the soul from fiery darts
delivered through mispronunciation
and what has become dire bitterness.
But what is this smile?
A gift to deliver me through this trial
lifting me by blessing
regardless of my mess and my inability for lifting.
My fear is that someday we might
become each others own worst enemy
that distance and miles will pile
in width and height,
that we will only agree
that we simply must disagree
and begin the soul's final exile.
But hope still remains.
With both love and faith,
remaining the steadfast bane
of every demon, every liar
and every foe before our path.
Their loss becomes our gain
becoming hollowed words that hath
rendered our love complete.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Geez
Never thought I would say this...but I'm quite sick of all the ego and pretension being flung about.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Silent Night Sky Ablaze
This hope is starting to blossom into flames, tendrils wrapping around fear and ego; consuming them in brilliant flickers of dark blue.
This forthcoming peace and love...oh how they burn with such brilliance in this dark night.
The shadows are chased away by your brilliance and love oh God and how mighty is the dark. But hope prevails in that your love manifests itself in every breath and heart beat of the singular moment.
My life is short but a small breath before this body will be consumed by the rising night but now, oh now I see the sunrise. The beauty of your light in this broken and twisted world we are both products and creators of.
The light burns away the shadowy mist and pierces this heart that was cast in metal long ago. This heart broken by shattered dreams and betrayed love, a heart reforged in the darkest depths to avoid Your gaze but oh how the droplets of blood fall on this fetid thing, hidden in mask and how your love breaks it once again.
Only You, it is only You that still makes my heart flutter and beat for life in this broken world. It's only your light that gives hope to my these red tear stained eyes. It's only by Your life that I can live again, that beyond this mortal coil.
Baptize me with your love, once again, make this broken day new again. Remove the bright red stains of hypocrisy from my lips and carry me from this field of dying dreams and broken bodies. This cemetery plot that beckons me to abandon hope and love in exchange for senseless apathy.
Don't let me fall to the wayside, please carry me to whatever end you see as best.
To this day nobody can move me, nobody can move you like You do.
This forthcoming peace and love...oh how they burn with such brilliance in this dark night.
The shadows are chased away by your brilliance and love oh God and how mighty is the dark. But hope prevails in that your love manifests itself in every breath and heart beat of the singular moment.
My life is short but a small breath before this body will be consumed by the rising night but now, oh now I see the sunrise. The beauty of your light in this broken and twisted world we are both products and creators of.
The light burns away the shadowy mist and pierces this heart that was cast in metal long ago. This heart broken by shattered dreams and betrayed love, a heart reforged in the darkest depths to avoid Your gaze but oh how the droplets of blood fall on this fetid thing, hidden in mask and how your love breaks it once again.
Only You, it is only You that still makes my heart flutter and beat for life in this broken world. It's only your light that gives hope to my these red tear stained eyes. It's only by Your life that I can live again, that beyond this mortal coil.
Baptize me with your love, once again, make this broken day new again. Remove the bright red stains of hypocrisy from my lips and carry me from this field of dying dreams and broken bodies. This cemetery plot that beckons me to abandon hope and love in exchange for senseless apathy.
Don't let me fall to the wayside, please carry me to whatever end you see as best.
To this day nobody can move me, nobody can move you like You do.
Seeing the Sun at Night
I could complain...but in a lot of ways...what is the point?
It is nice to feel grateful for something...even though it isn't exactly what I wish it could have been.
It's nice to feel some sincerity in my voice...while talking to You...for a change.
It is nice to feel grateful for something...even though it isn't exactly what I wish it could have been.
It's nice to feel some sincerity in my voice...while talking to You...for a change.
Monday, April 20, 2009
"Independence Day" - Brave Saint Saturn
You're biting your lip now,
I know 'cause you do it all the time.
You're blinking your eyes hard,
I know 'cause you used to be mine.
You're strong and resilient,
Beautiful and brilliant,
Proving that you're free,
Independently.
You say, you still love me,
But I'm your own worst enemy.
Independence Day,
Second of May,
Lost my best friend and a fiancé',
So I will hold this candle high.
Independence Day,
Nothing I could say,
Could sway you not to sever ties,
Your liberty can't rest on lies.
Francisco Goya,
Painted it gay,
I'd rather have been shot,
On the Third Of May.
Freedom never came for free,
Patriots are bleeding their veins clean,
That's me in the corner,
Singing "God Save the Queen",
God save the queen.
Independence Day,
Second of May,
Lost my best friend and a fiancé',
So I will hold this candle high.
Independence Day,
Nothing I could say,
Could sway you not to sever ties,
Your liberty can't rest on lies.
I can think of better synonyms for fear,
I hope your life is great I hope it's been a wonderful year.
Waiting every day,
Staring at the phone,
Jesus Christ, I feel so empty and alone.
I know 'cause you do it all the time.
You're blinking your eyes hard,
I know 'cause you used to be mine.
You're strong and resilient,
Beautiful and brilliant,
Proving that you're free,
Independently.
You say, you still love me,
But I'm your own worst enemy.
Independence Day,
Second of May,
Lost my best friend and a fiancé',
So I will hold this candle high.
Independence Day,
Nothing I could say,
Could sway you not to sever ties,
Your liberty can't rest on lies.
Francisco Goya,
Painted it gay,
I'd rather have been shot,
On the Third Of May.
Freedom never came for free,
Patriots are bleeding their veins clean,
That's me in the corner,
Singing "God Save the Queen",
God save the queen.
Independence Day,
Second of May,
Lost my best friend and a fiancé',
So I will hold this candle high.
Independence Day,
Nothing I could say,
Could sway you not to sever ties,
Your liberty can't rest on lies.
I can think of better synonyms for fear,
I hope your life is great I hope it's been a wonderful year.
Waiting every day,
Staring at the phone,
Jesus Christ, I feel so empty and alone.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Wow.
I just got punched in the stomach, metaphorically speaking.
I just realized how much of a waste the past three years of life have been, on a game I mean. Sure there are friendships and memories...but its just...seriously? What am I doing? Was this anything what I wanted to be?
King of a sinking ship? Broken body, broken soul and broken mind?
Seriously?
Geez...I honestly thought I had issues...just looking at this...it's like walking in on myself naked and realizing...that...deep down it's shallow...I don't know how I am so surprised to see other human beings flawed like me...but its a bitter and odd taste.
How could I have wasted so much time?
I want to throw up for more reasons now.
At least a sucker or a fool would have realized what he was getting himself into.
Maybe, maybe not.
Doesn't matter I do not think.
I feel like some sort of sucker...involving my heart and mind in endeavors both fruitless and worthless...and at the end of the day I'm still not some sort of hero who wins the girl and gets to go home...I'm just the idiot nice guy holding the umbrella out for a long list of people who, for the most part, just seem to add to my stress levels.
The self righteous part of me wants to scream and throw a tantrum...but that is as juvenile as it is pointless. Ultimately it is all just a bunch of code running through a system and being projected across a screen...anything else there is something we read into the systematic chaos influenced by the random factors of humanity.
It is the pained moments of clarification that I think a lot of people reach the point where they kill themselves. A revamping, redefining of life to the point where its realizing a lot of life is a pointless struggle with no 'Thank you very much' attached to it.
Which is fine.
Really it is.
The people who can be happy and without care are those who can regulate certain portions of their mind into areas that either feel nothing or are these fairy land areas where life is desensitized into understandable snipits and small bites capable of rational thought.
Which you know, isn't necessarily the worst of ideas...I mean, how many people are like me? Unable to sleep at night because they know some sort of finality is coming and will bring about some sort of end to reality as we know it and things will be redefined into some new and otherwise unknowable context?
That is of course assuming I'm not just some paranoid schizophrenic with a best friend called Jesus.
I'm not sure how I got to or where I'm going but I just want to just cancel every form of contact I have with people and find a cave to go to, some far distant cave in a desert so I can think this all out in my head...try to make some logical progress about these otherwise illogical creatures that rip my heart open and don't understand tears or pain.
And it's not like I'm some sort of comedian...getting the joke no one else is in on...I see the joke and personally find it sick and revolting...I feel sort of helpless to do anything about it but what is that anyway?
As if somehow the world would bow to my will and my mind...as if I am capable of the impossible and can break down things to such a level anyone would wish to join my bandwagon.
As if.
The people I'm thinking of would read this and simply think I am speaking of other people...and those who I wish would not bother to try and understand will over think this into some sort of personal attack...when all this is, all this is is just an extension of my mind...flowing thoughts that ebb and become more and more unbecoming by the moment, causing more stress and apathy in its wake.
I am trying to understand things and as it were...I may not understand them.
Or maybe, just maybe I am taking things just a bit too seriously.
I have problems with divorcing emotional attachment away from things.
Every time I leave a place, go away from someone or something and...if I honest to God actually cared about it...it rips a part of my soul and heart away and it hurts...God does it hurt.
It's like I'm leaving pieces of myself here and there, scattered over the horizon and under the sunset and I'm tired of it.
If this Jesus thing isn't just an elaborate scam meant to eventually drive me insane...then I want out.
Now.
I hate swearing and I feel like I do it too much on here and offend a lot of people who may not actually exist in the first place...but forget this.
Forget nobility.
Forget higher calling.
Fotget being at peace with the world and fuck developing spiritual fruits.
Anyone with the audacity or ignorance to say any of those things to me at this point would be asking for me to just explode. I don't care nor do I want your trite religious and spiritual sayings because they do nothing.
Saying Jesus has a big plan for everything and that every possible evil and disgusting thing in this world has its own point...seriously? Does it? This isn't just a case of who is behind the curtain but the entire world that exists around that stupid curtain.
I'm tired of feeling like my faith is a sham simply because I ask questions that make other people upset and uncomfortable.
A life that is unexamined is a life not worth living but a life that has been examined has little worth living out in and of itself.
Being independent of thought and purpose is what?
What is this?
What is going on?
What is this madness?
The more I ask the little that seems to really matter and make sense. The more frustrated I become and the more I just want to run from everything and everyone. I have so many questions, most of which lack any means of articulate intelligent expression and are just these growing pains inside me that I do not know how to stifle.
Besides, this isn't the most attractive thing in the world. Few women find honest confusion and doubt to be sexy and those who do might need to get their head checked out because there are a few screws loosed somewhere.
The focus society and culture thrusts upon us are these impossible ideals that no one understands or can explain...instead what I have is this useless rambling post of nonsense that conveys nothing of any real and significant value because the ones I want to scream at are innocent and the only person to blame for my pain, my hurt, my anger my fucking confusion is myself.
Seething rage mixed with just a few hints of bitter jealously and desperate longing to no longer be in pain.
But considering Jesus' track record of taking his time...I should be fine about five minutes after I am just dead.
Yup that would be my luck.
I just realized how much of a waste the past three years of life have been, on a game I mean. Sure there are friendships and memories...but its just...seriously? What am I doing? Was this anything what I wanted to be?
King of a sinking ship? Broken body, broken soul and broken mind?
Seriously?
Geez...I honestly thought I had issues...just looking at this...it's like walking in on myself naked and realizing...that...deep down it's shallow...I don't know how I am so surprised to see other human beings flawed like me...but its a bitter and odd taste.
How could I have wasted so much time?
I want to throw up for more reasons now.
At least a sucker or a fool would have realized what he was getting himself into.
Maybe, maybe not.
Doesn't matter I do not think.
I feel like some sort of sucker...involving my heart and mind in endeavors both fruitless and worthless...and at the end of the day I'm still not some sort of hero who wins the girl and gets to go home...I'm just the idiot nice guy holding the umbrella out for a long list of people who, for the most part, just seem to add to my stress levels.
The self righteous part of me wants to scream and throw a tantrum...but that is as juvenile as it is pointless. Ultimately it is all just a bunch of code running through a system and being projected across a screen...anything else there is something we read into the systematic chaos influenced by the random factors of humanity.
It is the pained moments of clarification that I think a lot of people reach the point where they kill themselves. A revamping, redefining of life to the point where its realizing a lot of life is a pointless struggle with no 'Thank you very much' attached to it.
Which is fine.
Really it is.
The people who can be happy and without care are those who can regulate certain portions of their mind into areas that either feel nothing or are these fairy land areas where life is desensitized into understandable snipits and small bites capable of rational thought.
Which you know, isn't necessarily the worst of ideas...I mean, how many people are like me? Unable to sleep at night because they know some sort of finality is coming and will bring about some sort of end to reality as we know it and things will be redefined into some new and otherwise unknowable context?
That is of course assuming I'm not just some paranoid schizophrenic with a best friend called Jesus.
I'm not sure how I got to or where I'm going but I just want to just cancel every form of contact I have with people and find a cave to go to, some far distant cave in a desert so I can think this all out in my head...try to make some logical progress about these otherwise illogical creatures that rip my heart open and don't understand tears or pain.
And it's not like I'm some sort of comedian...getting the joke no one else is in on...I see the joke and personally find it sick and revolting...I feel sort of helpless to do anything about it but what is that anyway?
As if somehow the world would bow to my will and my mind...as if I am capable of the impossible and can break down things to such a level anyone would wish to join my bandwagon.
As if.
The people I'm thinking of would read this and simply think I am speaking of other people...and those who I wish would not bother to try and understand will over think this into some sort of personal attack...when all this is, all this is is just an extension of my mind...flowing thoughts that ebb and become more and more unbecoming by the moment, causing more stress and apathy in its wake.
I am trying to understand things and as it were...I may not understand them.
Or maybe, just maybe I am taking things just a bit too seriously.
I have problems with divorcing emotional attachment away from things.
Every time I leave a place, go away from someone or something and...if I honest to God actually cared about it...it rips a part of my soul and heart away and it hurts...God does it hurt.
It's like I'm leaving pieces of myself here and there, scattered over the horizon and under the sunset and I'm tired of it.
If this Jesus thing isn't just an elaborate scam meant to eventually drive me insane...then I want out.
Now.
I hate swearing and I feel like I do it too much on here and offend a lot of people who may not actually exist in the first place...but forget this.
Forget nobility.
Forget higher calling.
Fotget being at peace with the world and fuck developing spiritual fruits.
Anyone with the audacity or ignorance to say any of those things to me at this point would be asking for me to just explode. I don't care nor do I want your trite religious and spiritual sayings because they do nothing.
Saying Jesus has a big plan for everything and that every possible evil and disgusting thing in this world has its own point...seriously? Does it? This isn't just a case of who is behind the curtain but the entire world that exists around that stupid curtain.
I'm tired of feeling like my faith is a sham simply because I ask questions that make other people upset and uncomfortable.
A life that is unexamined is a life not worth living but a life that has been examined has little worth living out in and of itself.
Being independent of thought and purpose is what?
What is this?
What is going on?
What is this madness?
The more I ask the little that seems to really matter and make sense. The more frustrated I become and the more I just want to run from everything and everyone. I have so many questions, most of which lack any means of articulate intelligent expression and are just these growing pains inside me that I do not know how to stifle.
Besides, this isn't the most attractive thing in the world. Few women find honest confusion and doubt to be sexy and those who do might need to get their head checked out because there are a few screws loosed somewhere.
The focus society and culture thrusts upon us are these impossible ideals that no one understands or can explain...instead what I have is this useless rambling post of nonsense that conveys nothing of any real and significant value because the ones I want to scream at are innocent and the only person to blame for my pain, my hurt, my anger my fucking confusion is myself.
Seething rage mixed with just a few hints of bitter jealously and desperate longing to no longer be in pain.
But considering Jesus' track record of taking his time...I should be fine about five minutes after I am just dead.
Yup that would be my luck.
For Now...
Every moment here is one I cannot get back and that feels as though it is nothing more than a twisted jest of faith.
And...yet, still more remains.
Even through this murky haze of prescribed drugs and of a soul caught in a twilight of change...if there is hope enough for me there is for you too.
This city we live in reeks of Babylon and is steadily charting its own descent into madness. Just as every ounce of pain is a soul reminder that my number has been called and the ticket will be up soon, I will press on deeper ignore caution and all signs. But sometimes the only fight left is the one in which you must loose, irregardless of circumstances I'm not going to quit, not now.
Even this pain must end with time.
And...yet, still more remains.
Even through this murky haze of prescribed drugs and of a soul caught in a twilight of change...if there is hope enough for me there is for you too.
This city we live in reeks of Babylon and is steadily charting its own descent into madness. Just as every ounce of pain is a soul reminder that my number has been called and the ticket will be up soon, I will press on deeper ignore caution and all signs. But sometimes the only fight left is the one in which you must loose, irregardless of circumstances I'm not going to quit, not now.
Even this pain must end with time.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Of Muse and Firestone
But a glimpse?
A mere glimpse is that what you speak of?
Such a small token
can only hope to stave
and not satisfy the aching heart.
The heart is both crafty and naive
in its own understanding
of truth and sentiment.
Bound by desire
and encased in soul.
We walk and we talk
and we travel hand in hand
along the watery ways.
Speak again so that I might here
and know what the divine sounds of.
Look upon me with your eyes
and see my tattered soul,
the mere scraps of a life
whose basis is survival.
Take these blistered eyes
and worn hands,
pass your touch on them
bring a renewal,
life,
to this dessert
a wasteland that is my soul.
Let me but gaze once more upon your figure,
to see you in entirety
and gaze into your soul
and I should be content so share with you.
Oh this traverse of the soul looking.
Free me from my prison
and of this cage.
My fear. my doubt and pain.
But a mere glimpse does not provide relief
it merely stirs the soul to recall
and remember you in more vivid details.
Living colors wrapped in words
which you whisper sweet and softly,
the muse and divine creature you are.
Sentiments fall shy of you
and seek to displace truth with a picture
when all I can see is you.
You may see in eyes of the divine
but I can see you when you cannot see me.
While you are bound I am free
with no intention of leaving until
this all burns to dust.
A mere glimpse is that what you speak of?
Such a small token
can only hope to stave
and not satisfy the aching heart.
The heart is both crafty and naive
in its own understanding
of truth and sentiment.
Bound by desire
and encased in soul.
We walk and we talk
and we travel hand in hand
along the watery ways.
Speak again so that I might here
and know what the divine sounds of.
Look upon me with your eyes
and see my tattered soul,
the mere scraps of a life
whose basis is survival.
Take these blistered eyes
and worn hands,
pass your touch on them
bring a renewal,
life,
to this dessert
a wasteland that is my soul.
Let me but gaze once more upon your figure,
to see you in entirety
and gaze into your soul
and I should be content so share with you.
Oh this traverse of the soul looking.
Free me from my prison
and of this cage.
My fear. my doubt and pain.
But a mere glimpse does not provide relief
it merely stirs the soul to recall
and remember you in more vivid details.
Living colors wrapped in words
which you whisper sweet and softly,
the muse and divine creature you are.
Sentiments fall shy of you
and seek to displace truth with a picture
when all I can see is you.
You may see in eyes of the divine
but I can see you when you cannot see me.
While you are bound I am free
with no intention of leaving until
this all burns to dust.
And so on...
Some won't understand my anger...why seeing this pain around me causes me to crumple to the ground in pain. Most do not see what I see...the barren and broken reality and the beautiful potential of grace...as well as the all consuming chasm separating the two.
Why do the people around me have to suffer? If you need someone to hurt...just let it be me. I already feel the fire inside me burning so bad...what is a little more anguish? More pain?
None of this makes sense in anyway that I wish to comprehend.
I hate you almost as much as I love you.
I despise you as much as I need you.
I don't know what it is you want from me...you say love, my heart...well it can't break any further. I feel reduced to the smallest of all possible pieces...I want to breath but I can't. The pain is like a freezing water crushing upon my chest and lungs, squeezing out whatever remains.
I want to believe so badly that love wins, that Jesus, you ARE...but God, it is so pain to see any light because of this darkness.
Why do the people around me have to suffer? If you need someone to hurt...just let it be me. I already feel the fire inside me burning so bad...what is a little more anguish? More pain?
None of this makes sense in anyway that I wish to comprehend.
I hate you almost as much as I love you.
I despise you as much as I need you.
I don't know what it is you want from me...you say love, my heart...well it can't break any further. I feel reduced to the smallest of all possible pieces...I want to breath but I can't. The pain is like a freezing water crushing upon my chest and lungs, squeezing out whatever remains.
I want to believe so badly that love wins, that Jesus, you ARE...but God, it is so pain to see any light because of this darkness.
Doubt in Waves
Just in case you haven't noticed lately...there is an entire world down here that is isolated, desolate and utterly fucked up.
It would be nice to actually feel your love and your peace.
Haven't these people suffered enough?
Do the tears mean anything to you anymore?
Can you even take the time to throw a drowning man a line?
Where is this peace? This peace on earth?
It would be nice to actually feel your love and your peace.
Haven't these people suffered enough?
Do the tears mean anything to you anymore?
Can you even take the time to throw a drowning man a line?
Where is this peace? This peace on earth?
Thursday, April 16, 2009
*sigh*
I hate funerals.
God, I know you know what you are doing but this one of the many times I just have to stop and say "Are you sure this is the best way? The best way things can be done?"
Oh Father, increase my faith, help me to always question and doubt but always help me to trust and to grow in faith.
God, I know you know what you are doing but this one of the many times I just have to stop and say "Are you sure this is the best way? The best way things can be done?"
Oh Father, increase my faith, help me to always question and doubt but always help me to trust and to grow in faith.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
This Is It
Mind barely able to function.
Throat burns.
Mind so clouded.
I just do not understand
the how and.
There is very few answers offered
so in a way it doesn't matter how you come
or really even why.
None good enough,
not even for me.
Throat burns.
Mind so clouded.
I just do not understand
the how and.
There is very few answers offered
so in a way it doesn't matter how you come
or really even why.
None good enough,
not even for me.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Touch of a Muse
The burning cancer in me
speaks in verse
demanding attention
the breaking of my spirit
and bending of my knees.
I can't remmeber the last time I saw Your face,
the last time I felt Your touch,
the last moment I didn't doubt everything.
If pain is the only thing left in creation
than let this end.
End all this pain and make this all new.
If there is hope to own
then dear God bring us back to life again.
My heart is such a black, broken and fetid thing.
I never knew pain felt so much like pain
and that faith would feel like fire in my bones
burning with no relief.
I never knew the journey we started together
would one day lead us here,
to this point of irreducible complexity
of both our hearts and minds interlocking
and being graced by the lips and breath of an angel.
speaks in verse
demanding attention
the breaking of my spirit
and bending of my knees.
I can't remmeber the last time I saw Your face,
the last time I felt Your touch,
the last moment I didn't doubt everything.
If pain is the only thing left in creation
than let this end.
End all this pain and make this all new.
If there is hope to own
then dear God bring us back to life again.
My heart is such a black, broken and fetid thing.
I never knew pain felt so much like pain
and that faith would feel like fire in my bones
burning with no relief.
I never knew the journey we started together
would one day lead us here,
to this point of irreducible complexity
of both our hearts and minds interlocking
and being graced by the lips and breath of an angel.
"Lead Us Home" - Demon Hunter
One more day
This time I’ll bite the bullet
Let me stay
And set this life ablaze
Give myself to compromise
And let the hammer fall
From blackened eyes to broken ties
I’ve bled to know them all
Driven to the brink of death
I heed deceptions call
Through bitter tears, forgotten years
I’ve come to sever all
Lead us home
Lead us home
Our tired hearts are failing now, from the inside out
Lead us home
One more time
This day I kill the witness
Take back what’s mine
And give disgrace a name
Give myself to compromise
And let the hammer fall
From blackened eyes to broken ties
I’ve bled to know them all
Driven to the brink of death
I heed deceptions call
Through bitter tears, forgotten years
I’ve come to sever all
Lead us home
Lead us home
Our tired hearts are failing now, from the inside out
Lead us home
Blessed hands will tear me off
And break me at the wrist
Drag me back to solid ground
And slay the fate I kiss
Lead us home
Lead us home
Our tired hearts are failing now, from the inside out
Lead us home
This time I’ll bite the bullet
Let me stay
And set this life ablaze
Give myself to compromise
And let the hammer fall
From blackened eyes to broken ties
I’ve bled to know them all
Driven to the brink of death
I heed deceptions call
Through bitter tears, forgotten years
I’ve come to sever all
Lead us home
Lead us home
Our tired hearts are failing now, from the inside out
Lead us home
One more time
This day I kill the witness
Take back what’s mine
And give disgrace a name
Give myself to compromise
And let the hammer fall
From blackened eyes to broken ties
I’ve bled to know them all
Driven to the brink of death
I heed deceptions call
Through bitter tears, forgotten years
I’ve come to sever all
Lead us home
Lead us home
Our tired hearts are failing now, from the inside out
Lead us home
Blessed hands will tear me off
And break me at the wrist
Drag me back to solid ground
And slay the fate I kiss
Lead us home
Lead us home
Our tired hearts are failing now, from the inside out
Lead us home
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Dark in the Day
More pain, more death.
What is next?
Will this cycle every end?
How much more pain will we have to endure
while we wait for your return?
How much is truth?
How much is fable?
What are the lies we tell ourselves,
just so we can sleep at night?
How can I ever love these people
when I hate myself?
How will I ever lead anyone
when I am so unsure myself?
When will your light burn
and love manifest itself?
How many more tears will be shed,
who will be the next to leave?
How can we know what is next?
Does your love endure beyond the grave?
Will you be there on that final day
to hold my hand
and keep me close when I at last fade?
Home seems like an impossible concept.
This impossible fable of hope.
That love can endure this world,
that your peace and grace are something more.
What is truth?
Questions floating in a void of doubt
come back to my side even though
I am the one who ran from you
and embrace myself.
Lead me home to your side
where eternity stretches
past the breadth of my failure
and the width of the chasm of sin
which separated us for all these years.
Take me,
mold me,
break me,
love me
and never leave me
like I left You.
Your love is new forever,
every day renewed
and more beautiful than before.
Amen and amen.
What is next?
Will this cycle every end?
How much more pain will we have to endure
while we wait for your return?
How much is truth?
How much is fable?
What are the lies we tell ourselves,
just so we can sleep at night?
How can I ever love these people
when I hate myself?
How will I ever lead anyone
when I am so unsure myself?
When will your light burn
and love manifest itself?
How many more tears will be shed,
who will be the next to leave?
How can we know what is next?
Does your love endure beyond the grave?
Will you be there on that final day
to hold my hand
and keep me close when I at last fade?
Home seems like an impossible concept.
This impossible fable of hope.
That love can endure this world,
that your peace and grace are something more.
What is truth?
Questions floating in a void of doubt
come back to my side even though
I am the one who ran from you
and embrace myself.
Lead me home to your side
where eternity stretches
past the breadth of my failure
and the width of the chasm of sin
which separated us for all these years.
Take me,
mold me,
break me,
love me
and never leave me
like I left You.
Your love is new forever,
every day renewed
and more beautiful than before.
Amen and amen.
Ecclesiastes 7
1 A good reputation is better than a fat bank account. Your death date tells more than your birth date.
2 You learn more at a funeral than at a feast—
After all, that's where we'll end up. We might discover
something from it.
3 Crying is better than laughing.
It blotches the face but it scours the heart.
4 Sages invest themselves in hurt and grieving.
Fools waste their lives in fun and games.
5 You'll get more from the rebuke of a sage
Than from the song and dance of fools.
6 The giggles of fools are like the crackling of twigs
Under the cooking pot. And like smoke.
7 Brutality stupefies even the wise
And destroys the strongest heart.
8 Endings are better than beginnings.
Sticking to it is better than standing out.
9 Don't be quick to fly off the handle.
Anger boomerangs. You can spot a fool by the lumps on his head.
10 Don't always be asking, "Where are the good old days?"
Wise folks don't ask questions like that.
11-12 Wisdom is better when it's paired with money,
Especially if you get both while you're still living.
Double protection: wisdom and wealth!
Plus this bonus: Wisdom energizes its owner.
13 Take a good look at God's work.
Who could simplify and reduce Creation's curves and angles
To a plain straight line?
14 On a good day, enjoy yourself;
On a bad day, examine your conscience.
God arranges for both kinds of days
So that we won't take anything for granted.
15-17 I've seen it all in my brief and pointless life—here a good person cut down in the middle of doing good, there a bad person living a long life of sheer evil. So don't knock yourself out being good, and don't go overboard being wise. Believe me, you won't get anything out of it. But don't press your luck by being bad, either. And don't be reckless. Why die needlessly?
18 It's best to stay in touch with both sides of an issue. A person who fears God deals responsibly with all of reality, not just a piece of it.
19 Wisdom puts more strength in one wise person
Than ten strong men give to a city.
20 There's not one totally good person on earth,
Not one who is truly pure and sinless.
21-22 Don't eavesdrop on the conversation of others.
What if the gossip's about you and you'd rather not hear it?
You've done that a few times, haven't you—said things
Behind someone's back you wouldn't say to his face?
23-25 I tested everything in my search for wisdom. I set out to be wise, but it was beyond me, far beyond me, and deep—oh so deep! Does anyone ever find it? I concentrated with all my might, studying and exploring and seeking wisdom—the meaning of life. I also wanted to identify evil and stupidity, foolishness and craziness.
26-29 One discovery: A woman can be a bitter pill to swallow, full of seductive scheming and grasping. The lucky escape her; the undiscerning get caught. At least this is my experience—what I, the Quester, have pieced together as I've tried to make sense of life. But the wisdom I've looked for I haven't found. I didn't find one man or woman in a thousand worth my while. Yet I did spot one ray of light in this murk: God made men and women true and upright; we're the ones who've made a mess of things.
2 You learn more at a funeral than at a feast—
After all, that's where we'll end up. We might discover
something from it.
3 Crying is better than laughing.
It blotches the face but it scours the heart.
4 Sages invest themselves in hurt and grieving.
Fools waste their lives in fun and games.
5 You'll get more from the rebuke of a sage
Than from the song and dance of fools.
6 The giggles of fools are like the crackling of twigs
Under the cooking pot. And like smoke.
7 Brutality stupefies even the wise
And destroys the strongest heart.
8 Endings are better than beginnings.
Sticking to it is better than standing out.
9 Don't be quick to fly off the handle.
Anger boomerangs. You can spot a fool by the lumps on his head.
10 Don't always be asking, "Where are the good old days?"
Wise folks don't ask questions like that.
11-12 Wisdom is better when it's paired with money,
Especially if you get both while you're still living.
Double protection: wisdom and wealth!
Plus this bonus: Wisdom energizes its owner.
13 Take a good look at God's work.
Who could simplify and reduce Creation's curves and angles
To a plain straight line?
14 On a good day, enjoy yourself;
On a bad day, examine your conscience.
God arranges for both kinds of days
So that we won't take anything for granted.
15-17 I've seen it all in my brief and pointless life—here a good person cut down in the middle of doing good, there a bad person living a long life of sheer evil. So don't knock yourself out being good, and don't go overboard being wise. Believe me, you won't get anything out of it. But don't press your luck by being bad, either. And don't be reckless. Why die needlessly?
18 It's best to stay in touch with both sides of an issue. A person who fears God deals responsibly with all of reality, not just a piece of it.
19 Wisdom puts more strength in one wise person
Than ten strong men give to a city.
20 There's not one totally good person on earth,
Not one who is truly pure and sinless.
21-22 Don't eavesdrop on the conversation of others.
What if the gossip's about you and you'd rather not hear it?
You've done that a few times, haven't you—said things
Behind someone's back you wouldn't say to his face?
23-25 I tested everything in my search for wisdom. I set out to be wise, but it was beyond me, far beyond me, and deep—oh so deep! Does anyone ever find it? I concentrated with all my might, studying and exploring and seeking wisdom—the meaning of life. I also wanted to identify evil and stupidity, foolishness and craziness.
26-29 One discovery: A woman can be a bitter pill to swallow, full of seductive scheming and grasping. The lucky escape her; the undiscerning get caught. At least this is my experience—what I, the Quester, have pieced together as I've tried to make sense of life. But the wisdom I've looked for I haven't found. I didn't find one man or woman in a thousand worth my while. Yet I did spot one ray of light in this murk: God made men and women true and upright; we're the ones who've made a mess of things.
Sunday Bloody Sunday
These days I do not preach very often.
I have a degree in pastoral ministries from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary as well as a bachelor of Arts in Christian Studies with an emphasis in pastoral ministries (as well as a bachelor of Arts in Humanities but that is beside the point at this point).
It has been a couple of years since I've taught on a regular basis, a few years since I've done anything I would qualify as being "preaching".
Ever since I was about fourteen I started on a path towards doing 'ministry', 'preaching' whatever all that means. Honestly I'm not sure myself and I've spent a lot of time thinking about those terms and trying to try and come to some real conclusion.
About the time I graduated from high school and started college some events transpired that gave me a foul taste in my mouth concerning church and ministry. Since that time I've had trouble going to church and interacting with Christians. To a large degree I started to develop a distrust and at times a self righteous disgust of Christians.
I got tired of the cliches, tired of the mind games, tired of the politics, tired of the lame jokes and the stupid suits and ties. I got burned out and bitter. I would hear expressions like "God bless you" "God Bless the USA", "Jesus loves you" and see the thousands and at times millions of dollars poured into buildings and programs to entertain the people in church while at the time ignoring those living in poverty just a few miles down the road.
I have and still see Jesus being used as a political tool, some sort of rally cry to gather protesters...as if using Jesus in your slogans would somehow make your cause 'righteous' and 'good'.
If I was to be perfectly honest I think I would be branded both crazed and a heretic. I don't feel I'm that crazy or heretical just that Jesus doesn't divide people based on ethnicity, social class, skin color, religion or anything else people have invented just so they can look down on others. I have serious doubt that Jesus supports the Republican, the Democrats or the Green party...or any political body for that matter. Politicians are just like the rest of us and only care about their immediate concerns.
I could go on about this but for those interested in doing a little background reading about this check out 1 Samuel 8-10
I could go on with this but I'm not going to, that isn't the exact point of this letter, sermon or whatever you want to call it. I don't know what it is exactly. I just know I've seen a lot of broken lives, heard so many stories and just know that this world is getting worse.
Being sick with a disease that keeps me constantly in pain and nauseated has been somewhat sobering. Around the fall of 2007 I was looking at doing a masters of divinity in Birmingham. Now I'm looking at doing a masters of divinity out in San Fransisco. I'm still not exactly sure why I'm doing this other then the fact I feel that I'm being told to do so.
I guess all this comes back to this wild and crazed revolutionary and controversial guy called Jesus. Well, to just say he is a man would miss the point. I mean, the backbone of my education for the better part of six years has been that Jesus is more than a man, that even though he lived and died around two thousand years ago, he is actually alive and is both God and man and somehow he is my best friend and savior.
I never said this was going to sound sane but even though I openly question how this is possible every time I think about it...I can't help but laugh. Like love, it is something that chooses you and you have to give back...or something. I mean, this gets to be really complicated really fast. As much as I try to appreciate the work of those who do apologetics...a lot of time is wasted on research that doesn't amount to much.
From my experience people dying, those who are unemployed, the drug junkie shaking while wanting his next fix...you could pile up all the archeological evidence in the world before them and they could care less. It's not that I'm trying to cause a lot of trouble or step on toes but unless the church is grounded in the dirt and grime of the world, where is she?
I know people like to reduce Jesus to being some sort of holy guy that said 'Hey, why don't we try loving people?' and that sort of is true but at the same time misses the whole point.
For anyone who has bothered to actually read the Bible Jesus was not a lovey hippie figure as much as he was a loudly spoken rabbi who scared religious and political figures so much that they killed him. And despite the minor setback of death that couldn't stop Him.
Don't ask me how it works but it does. There are many trite and pointless analogies and comparisons that real preachers try to use but they all, to be frank, suck. How do you begin to compare the infinite love of an incomprehensibly omniscient and omnipresent being to the breeze blowing, or of human love?
Seriously.
If we're talking about Jesus, this insane mixture of deity and human being then we are talking about something we CANNOT comprehend with empirical science. People have wasted their entire lives arguing and killing one another over who has a better definition of Jesus.
That is partly what this is about, at least I think it is.
I'm sick of the fighting.
Every time I turn on the news or check the BBC's website my stomach turns. I feel nauseated. How many mass shootings have we had in the past weeks? Months? Years? How many times do we hear of someone screaming "Allahu Ackbar!" (Glory to God, for more information see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takbir) before detonating a bomb and killing dozens of people.
'Glory to God'?
Seriously.
Or how about the crusades? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crusade
Did you read that part in the Bible where Jesus said "Oh, by the way guys, this religion called Islam is going to pop up around the seventh century and eventually will take over Jerusalem. I want you guys to know this ahead of time so you can gather a large group of Anglo Saxons claiming divine right and go kill the Muslims. Rape, pillage, you know the war thing."
What about something a bit more home grown, the whole "Manifest Destiny" that resulted in the genocide of the Native Americans?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manifest_Destiny
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wounded_Knee_Massacre
Or The Troubles in Northern Ireland that have been going on for decades? Militant Catholics and Protestants killing one another.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Troubles
Wait, did someone just say Protestants versus Catholics?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirty_Years%27_War
I could go on because there is more...but I'm tired of this. As George Santayana said "Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
There has been so much wholesale slaughter in the name of Jesus, so many people rejected and told they are scum by the established church, so many broken promises, so many lies...and at the end of the day I'm no better than those who came before me.
I'm just another broken soul that is afraid and is unsure of life. Half the time I feel afraid to do anything and half the time I feel this indescribable peace and presence that scares me as much as it brings peace.
Love given to me from a finite being merely scares me, love from One who is incomprehensible terrifies me. It's bad enough to look up at the sky when its dark and see the vast ocean of stars...and to think there is One who effortlessly spoke all of this into being?
I mean, really, where does that leave us?
The more I pray, the more I read, the more I study...the bigger the gap seems. There are a good many of different things I believe but most of it can be summed up rather easily:
"One of the religion scholars came up. Hearing the lively exchanges of question and answer and seeing how sharp Jesus was in his answers, he put in his question: "Which is most important of all the commandments?"
Jesus said, "The first in importance is, 'Listen, Israel: The Lord your God is one; so love the Lord God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy.' And here is the second: 'Love others as well as you love yourself.' There is no other commandment that ranks with these.""
-Mark 12:28-30
One of my many problems with talking about this kind of thing is knowing where to begin and end things. There is so much to say and so much that is running around in my mind at any give point in the day. But the only thing that still catches my breath still, that makes my heart beat so erratically...is this thought of love.
Genuine love. Not the broken and limited love of people but the αγάπη, the love expressed only by the divine (for some more thoughts on this see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agape
It is this love that I'm chiefly concerned with and it is the lack of reciprocation among Christians that have resulted in some of the most horrific tragedies imaginable.
It is this love that is incredibly complex and simple, both mundane at times and breath taking as well.
It was this love that was expressed when Jesus died on the cross, acting as a passover Lamb for all sin. I know a lot of preachers spend time focusing on how horrible humans are, how dirty we are and how much we need help because none of us can save ourselves. Just a glance at the news headlines and honestly if there is no hope beyond this physical world there is no need to worry about finding Hell because it is already here.
And I really do not feel comfortable talking about this kind of thing. I'm sure to some people it seems like I'm pointing the finger and saying "Look how bad they are and look how awesome I am! Woo! Go team Jesus!" but what I'm trying to say is that the church, including me, has been contributing to the problem by missing the entire point off the Gospel...which is love.
It doesn't matter how you dress, what words you use, what rituals you partake in, what songs you sing or scream, it doesn't matter the degree of love you felt growing up. The past is the past and the offer for a life freed from addiction of self is a few breaths away.
I wish there were some kind of magic words I could speak, some sort of special phrase I could utter and it would make everything better. But the reality of the situation is that things are going to continue to get worse until someone does something.
The task is huge and the potential for failure has never been greater...but for those who have been touched by this incomprehensible love...what are we waiting for? What am I waiting for?
Music to me is a life force that helps push me and keep me going. Positive reinforcement and an outlet for the prayers my soul can only scream in the dark of the night.
A song that has captured this feeling...this disappointment...this heartache of seeing Christianity hijacked and used and manipulated for hate can be found in the U2 song "Sunday Bloody Sunday".
The song itself paints a picture that is a juxtaposition of the massacre in Northern Ireland as Bloody Sunday to the resurrection of Christ on Sunday.
I know I hear a lot of jokes from friends about my love of U2 but this particular performance of this song captures this feeling...this...place where my mind has been traveling to.
How long? How much longer will we be singing this song? How long until the church, until I actually stand up for what is right?
When Jesus mentions loving your enemies, he means loving them as you would your friends. It mean destroying our prejudices about everyone and throwing down our weapons. The early church followed to their deaths.
There is a power in complete surrender and unclenching your fist. Saying no to revenge, saying no to the cancerous hate and fear that threaten to consume our lives. If someone actually wants to change the world they have to love people as Jesus did and being willing to pay for it, just like He did.
I'm so sick of this, not just the hypocrisy in televangelist, not only the wolves posing as sheep to steal money, not just the faux Christian 'leaders' calling for political assassinations and for Christians to 'take back their country'; I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of being so caught up in my problems that I ignore the world around me. For those of us with enough audacity to call ourselves Christians (as it were, ones like Christ, 1 Peter 4:12-19) we have a lot to answer for...a lot to make amends for.
Sometimes the best thing we can do is shut our mouths long enough to hear others speak and the best response we can give is a hug. Words cannot hope to describe and define the beautiful horror that seizes a person when they realize they are loved by Christ. The best we can hope to do is to show that love in how we live, how we treat others and most importantly loving our enemies even if it means our death. That will show a world that Christ is alive and burning inside us.
"Here's another old saying that deserves a second look: 'Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.' Is that going to get us anywhere? Here's what I propose: 'Don't hit back at all.' If someone strikes you, stand there and take it. If someone drags you into court and sues for the shirt off your back, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. And if someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.
"You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.
"In a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you."
-Matthew 5:38-48
I have a degree in pastoral ministries from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary as well as a bachelor of Arts in Christian Studies with an emphasis in pastoral ministries (as well as a bachelor of Arts in Humanities but that is beside the point at this point).
It has been a couple of years since I've taught on a regular basis, a few years since I've done anything I would qualify as being "preaching".
Ever since I was about fourteen I started on a path towards doing 'ministry', 'preaching' whatever all that means. Honestly I'm not sure myself and I've spent a lot of time thinking about those terms and trying to try and come to some real conclusion.
About the time I graduated from high school and started college some events transpired that gave me a foul taste in my mouth concerning church and ministry. Since that time I've had trouble going to church and interacting with Christians. To a large degree I started to develop a distrust and at times a self righteous disgust of Christians.
I got tired of the cliches, tired of the mind games, tired of the politics, tired of the lame jokes and the stupid suits and ties. I got burned out and bitter. I would hear expressions like "God bless you" "God Bless the USA", "Jesus loves you" and see the thousands and at times millions of dollars poured into buildings and programs to entertain the people in church while at the time ignoring those living in poverty just a few miles down the road.
I have and still see Jesus being used as a political tool, some sort of rally cry to gather protesters...as if using Jesus in your slogans would somehow make your cause 'righteous' and 'good'.
If I was to be perfectly honest I think I would be branded both crazed and a heretic. I don't feel I'm that crazy or heretical just that Jesus doesn't divide people based on ethnicity, social class, skin color, religion or anything else people have invented just so they can look down on others. I have serious doubt that Jesus supports the Republican, the Democrats or the Green party...or any political body for that matter. Politicians are just like the rest of us and only care about their immediate concerns.
I could go on about this but for those interested in doing a little background reading about this check out 1 Samuel 8-10
I could go on with this but I'm not going to, that isn't the exact point of this letter, sermon or whatever you want to call it. I don't know what it is exactly. I just know I've seen a lot of broken lives, heard so many stories and just know that this world is getting worse.
Being sick with a disease that keeps me constantly in pain and nauseated has been somewhat sobering. Around the fall of 2007 I was looking at doing a masters of divinity in Birmingham. Now I'm looking at doing a masters of divinity out in San Fransisco. I'm still not exactly sure why I'm doing this other then the fact I feel that I'm being told to do so.
I guess all this comes back to this wild and crazed revolutionary and controversial guy called Jesus. Well, to just say he is a man would miss the point. I mean, the backbone of my education for the better part of six years has been that Jesus is more than a man, that even though he lived and died around two thousand years ago, he is actually alive and is both God and man and somehow he is my best friend and savior.
I never said this was going to sound sane but even though I openly question how this is possible every time I think about it...I can't help but laugh. Like love, it is something that chooses you and you have to give back...or something. I mean, this gets to be really complicated really fast. As much as I try to appreciate the work of those who do apologetics...a lot of time is wasted on research that doesn't amount to much.
From my experience people dying, those who are unemployed, the drug junkie shaking while wanting his next fix...you could pile up all the archeological evidence in the world before them and they could care less. It's not that I'm trying to cause a lot of trouble or step on toes but unless the church is grounded in the dirt and grime of the world, where is she?
I know people like to reduce Jesus to being some sort of holy guy that said 'Hey, why don't we try loving people?' and that sort of is true but at the same time misses the whole point.
For anyone who has bothered to actually read the Bible Jesus was not a lovey hippie figure as much as he was a loudly spoken rabbi who scared religious and political figures so much that they killed him. And despite the minor setback of death that couldn't stop Him.
Don't ask me how it works but it does. There are many trite and pointless analogies and comparisons that real preachers try to use but they all, to be frank, suck. How do you begin to compare the infinite love of an incomprehensibly omniscient and omnipresent being to the breeze blowing, or of human love?
Seriously.
If we're talking about Jesus, this insane mixture of deity and human being then we are talking about something we CANNOT comprehend with empirical science. People have wasted their entire lives arguing and killing one another over who has a better definition of Jesus.
That is partly what this is about, at least I think it is.
I'm sick of the fighting.
Every time I turn on the news or check the BBC's website my stomach turns. I feel nauseated. How many mass shootings have we had in the past weeks? Months? Years? How many times do we hear of someone screaming "Allahu Ackbar!" (Glory to God, for more information see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takbir) before detonating a bomb and killing dozens of people.
'Glory to God'?
Seriously.
Or how about the crusades? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crusade
Did you read that part in the Bible where Jesus said "Oh, by the way guys, this religion called Islam is going to pop up around the seventh century and eventually will take over Jerusalem. I want you guys to know this ahead of time so you can gather a large group of Anglo Saxons claiming divine right and go kill the Muslims. Rape, pillage, you know the war thing."
What about something a bit more home grown, the whole "Manifest Destiny" that resulted in the genocide of the Native Americans?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manifest_Destiny
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wounded_Knee_Massacre
Or The Troubles in Northern Ireland that have been going on for decades? Militant Catholics and Protestants killing one another.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Troubles
Wait, did someone just say Protestants versus Catholics?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirty_Years%27_War
I could go on because there is more...but I'm tired of this. As George Santayana said "Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
There has been so much wholesale slaughter in the name of Jesus, so many people rejected and told they are scum by the established church, so many broken promises, so many lies...and at the end of the day I'm no better than those who came before me.
I'm just another broken soul that is afraid and is unsure of life. Half the time I feel afraid to do anything and half the time I feel this indescribable peace and presence that scares me as much as it brings peace.
Love given to me from a finite being merely scares me, love from One who is incomprehensible terrifies me. It's bad enough to look up at the sky when its dark and see the vast ocean of stars...and to think there is One who effortlessly spoke all of this into being?
I mean, really, where does that leave us?
The more I pray, the more I read, the more I study...the bigger the gap seems. There are a good many of different things I believe but most of it can be summed up rather easily:
"One of the religion scholars came up. Hearing the lively exchanges of question and answer and seeing how sharp Jesus was in his answers, he put in his question: "Which is most important of all the commandments?"
Jesus said, "The first in importance is, 'Listen, Israel: The Lord your God is one; so love the Lord God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy.' And here is the second: 'Love others as well as you love yourself.' There is no other commandment that ranks with these.""
-Mark 12:28-30
One of my many problems with talking about this kind of thing is knowing where to begin and end things. There is so much to say and so much that is running around in my mind at any give point in the day. But the only thing that still catches my breath still, that makes my heart beat so erratically...is this thought of love.
Genuine love. Not the broken and limited love of people but the αγάπη, the love expressed only by the divine (for some more thoughts on this see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agape
It is this love that I'm chiefly concerned with and it is the lack of reciprocation among Christians that have resulted in some of the most horrific tragedies imaginable.
It is this love that is incredibly complex and simple, both mundane at times and breath taking as well.
It was this love that was expressed when Jesus died on the cross, acting as a passover Lamb for all sin. I know a lot of preachers spend time focusing on how horrible humans are, how dirty we are and how much we need help because none of us can save ourselves. Just a glance at the news headlines and honestly if there is no hope beyond this physical world there is no need to worry about finding Hell because it is already here.
And I really do not feel comfortable talking about this kind of thing. I'm sure to some people it seems like I'm pointing the finger and saying "Look how bad they are and look how awesome I am! Woo! Go team Jesus!" but what I'm trying to say is that the church, including me, has been contributing to the problem by missing the entire point off the Gospel...which is love.
It doesn't matter how you dress, what words you use, what rituals you partake in, what songs you sing or scream, it doesn't matter the degree of love you felt growing up. The past is the past and the offer for a life freed from addiction of self is a few breaths away.
I wish there were some kind of magic words I could speak, some sort of special phrase I could utter and it would make everything better. But the reality of the situation is that things are going to continue to get worse until someone does something.
The task is huge and the potential for failure has never been greater...but for those who have been touched by this incomprehensible love...what are we waiting for? What am I waiting for?
Music to me is a life force that helps push me and keep me going. Positive reinforcement and an outlet for the prayers my soul can only scream in the dark of the night.
A song that has captured this feeling...this disappointment...this heartache of seeing Christianity hijacked and used and manipulated for hate can be found in the U2 song "Sunday Bloody Sunday".
The song itself paints a picture that is a juxtaposition of the massacre in Northern Ireland as Bloody Sunday to the resurrection of Christ on Sunday.
I know I hear a lot of jokes from friends about my love of U2 but this particular performance of this song captures this feeling...this...place where my mind has been traveling to.
How long? How much longer will we be singing this song? How long until the church, until I actually stand up for what is right?
When Jesus mentions loving your enemies, he means loving them as you would your friends. It mean destroying our prejudices about everyone and throwing down our weapons. The early church followed to their deaths.
There is a power in complete surrender and unclenching your fist. Saying no to revenge, saying no to the cancerous hate and fear that threaten to consume our lives. If someone actually wants to change the world they have to love people as Jesus did and being willing to pay for it, just like He did.
I'm so sick of this, not just the hypocrisy in televangelist, not only the wolves posing as sheep to steal money, not just the faux Christian 'leaders' calling for political assassinations and for Christians to 'take back their country'; I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of being so caught up in my problems that I ignore the world around me. For those of us with enough audacity to call ourselves Christians (as it were, ones like Christ, 1 Peter 4:12-19) we have a lot to answer for...a lot to make amends for.
Sometimes the best thing we can do is shut our mouths long enough to hear others speak and the best response we can give is a hug. Words cannot hope to describe and define the beautiful horror that seizes a person when they realize they are loved by Christ. The best we can hope to do is to show that love in how we live, how we treat others and most importantly loving our enemies even if it means our death. That will show a world that Christ is alive and burning inside us.
"Here's another old saying that deserves a second look: 'Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.' Is that going to get us anywhere? Here's what I propose: 'Don't hit back at all.' If someone strikes you, stand there and take it. If someone drags you into court and sues for the shirt off your back, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. And if someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.
"You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.
"In a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you."
-Matthew 5:38-48
Saturday, April 11, 2009
"The Beginning" - Showbread
I used to dream that I could fly
Just above the whispered clouds, beneath the somber sky
I had a dream I was alive
I dreamt that love would never die, goodbye
Dreams were cheap and hope was easy (so light)
The forgeries of life deceiving (so bright)
And as I glided to the ground (so long)
Calcified, the concrete weighed me down (cruel world)
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I had dreamt that I could fly
Alkaline the burning frost, has blistered deep beneath my bones
And winter spat its hatred, cold and coiled, black and deep
As it called me ever further, where evil burns and never sleeps
I once had prayers that found no words, fragile things I've never spoken
Through my lips passed eulogies for all the oaths that I have broken
And still the ghost of hope was haunting, through the dark to save the living
And still beneath it all I dreamt that God could be forgiving
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I dreamt that I could fly
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride
I am the worst of all things here
My crooked, black, and lying heart still spits its bitter fear
And each and every sparrow
They flutter to the ground before they die
So please God don't forget me
''I have been with you all along, you have not noticed me.'
Nervosa now felt more ashamed than ever before.
'Why would you still care enough to save me
even after seeing the horrible things I have done?
Why do you remain here even now?' She asked, sobbing.
'Because, here is where you are,' the Lamb said softly,
'And I long to be with you.''
See from His head, His hands, His feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
To Christ, who won for sinners' grace
By bitter grief and anguish sore
Be praise from all the ransomed race
Forever and forevermore
Just above the whispered clouds, beneath the somber sky
I had a dream I was alive
I dreamt that love would never die, goodbye
Dreams were cheap and hope was easy (so light)
The forgeries of life deceiving (so bright)
And as I glided to the ground (so long)
Calcified, the concrete weighed me down (cruel world)
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I had dreamt that I could fly
Alkaline the burning frost, has blistered deep beneath my bones
And winter spat its hatred, cold and coiled, black and deep
As it called me ever further, where evil burns and never sleeps
I once had prayers that found no words, fragile things I've never spoken
Through my lips passed eulogies for all the oaths that I have broken
And still the ghost of hope was haunting, through the dark to save the living
And still beneath it all I dreamt that God could be forgiving
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I dreamt that I could fly
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride
I am the worst of all things here
My crooked, black, and lying heart still spits its bitter fear
And each and every sparrow
They flutter to the ground before they die
So please God don't forget me
''I have been with you all along, you have not noticed me.'
Nervosa now felt more ashamed than ever before.
'Why would you still care enough to save me
even after seeing the horrible things I have done?
Why do you remain here even now?' She asked, sobbing.
'Because, here is where you are,' the Lamb said softly,
'And I long to be with you.''
See from His head, His hands, His feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
To Christ, who won for sinners' grace
By bitter grief and anguish sore
Be praise from all the ransomed race
Forever and forevermore
Somewhere Between Love and Here
Fallen out of sight of You
I start to loose myself.
Your voice is so faint,
but I can remember,
remember those first words.
The words bringing the chaos to calm,
the words that brought order
to an endless void.
With a simple word you speak
and creation kneels before thee.
You spoke and by your breath
brought this soul and body together.
I cannot remember much
but I have felt your arms
and your tears matching mine.
The burdens around me
that threaten to capsize me
and pull me under
are never a surprise to You.
Somewhere a child is dying
cold, alone and hungry.
Somewhere an innocent
is dying alone
blood pooled around
forsake by all
but You.
A blood smeared cross is the profit of my gains.
I killed the maker of creation
Arson of the soul burning with no notion
forgetting the price of life and the pain.
Every last word I can whisper
speaks as an eternal scream
blood red spilling as ink on paper
Nightmares replace my dreams
as I long for You again.
To have my savior be mine,
the One whose love is not mere vapor
burning in the sun.
But the One whose love burns the sky
gentle as a lamb
more fearsome than the darkness
There is no aptness
no words
no ritual
no saving grace
except for what You have given.
This body will continue to fail
and my words ring about in this room empty,
curses lifted in vain
against myself
against You
and whoever else who tries to help.
I lack words to speak
as I gasp for air
to weak now to scream.
I whisper in the dark,
I wonder where you are.
I can't scream
and my throat aches from the sores
of a lifetime spent lost
but here You are.
The smells of death and decay
and the rotting piles of trash around me.
The dark smiles at me,
smirks I recognize as my own.
Whispers of finality
that is my own voice.
I am but not alone.
More then this pain
and finality is You.
Jesus, bless me so I can move.
My tongue is full of venom
and has crafted so much deceit.
The blood continues to flow out
and I beg for Your touch once more.
The medication blocks the pain
but the disease of sin still festers.
Kiss the sparrow and come back to my side.
You see the fields of flowers
but I only see me.
There is a world diseased and dying
but here I am.
Please find me here.
Forget me not.
Forgive me for my doubt
and the gods that are my pain.
I don't understand.
My mind become more clouded
pain more intense.
I don't want to be saved,
I want to be yours.
I speak contradiction
and have my life engraved in stone.
It seems like the view of a sea.
White sands and eternal oceans.
My weakness and hate evident.
The tears I shed are for myself.
I've never remembered another
or cared to help give my abundance.
It is self.
No why or how.
No rhyme or reason.
Just this shattered heart
feeling lungs collapse.
Feeling the pain in my stomach build
for no reason.
Can we go alone,
just You and I?
Could You carry me to distant shores
although You have already died?
Can you carry the weight of my sins
and the weight of this dead body?
Can you carry me through eternity
and wipe away every tear?
Will you please save me,
Savior?
Redeemer?
Your cross is horrifying in its beauty.
Undying love at the price of a life.
My pride, my lust and my ambition
the hammers that drove nails
and here I lay on this mountain
covered in the dirt of this worlds triteness.
I feel the cold piercing my bones.
The fever of endless dreams
while waiting on this mountain side.
I wait while my faith breathes its last
and my body longs to give in with one last sigh
so please do not forget me Father.
Do not leave me here
rotting in my shame.
I start to loose myself.
Your voice is so faint,
but I can remember,
remember those first words.
The words bringing the chaos to calm,
the words that brought order
to an endless void.
With a simple word you speak
and creation kneels before thee.
You spoke and by your breath
brought this soul and body together.
I cannot remember much
but I have felt your arms
and your tears matching mine.
The burdens around me
that threaten to capsize me
and pull me under
are never a surprise to You.
Somewhere a child is dying
cold, alone and hungry.
Somewhere an innocent
is dying alone
blood pooled around
forsake by all
but You.
A blood smeared cross is the profit of my gains.
I killed the maker of creation
Arson of the soul burning with no notion
forgetting the price of life and the pain.
Every last word I can whisper
speaks as an eternal scream
blood red spilling as ink on paper
Nightmares replace my dreams
as I long for You again.
To have my savior be mine,
the One whose love is not mere vapor
burning in the sun.
But the One whose love burns the sky
gentle as a lamb
more fearsome than the darkness
There is no aptness
no words
no ritual
no saving grace
except for what You have given.
This body will continue to fail
and my words ring about in this room empty,
curses lifted in vain
against myself
against You
and whoever else who tries to help.
I lack words to speak
as I gasp for air
to weak now to scream.
I whisper in the dark,
I wonder where you are.
I can't scream
and my throat aches from the sores
of a lifetime spent lost
but here You are.
The smells of death and decay
and the rotting piles of trash around me.
The dark smiles at me,
smirks I recognize as my own.
Whispers of finality
that is my own voice.
I am but not alone.
More then this pain
and finality is You.
Jesus, bless me so I can move.
My tongue is full of venom
and has crafted so much deceit.
The blood continues to flow out
and I beg for Your touch once more.
The medication blocks the pain
but the disease of sin still festers.
Kiss the sparrow and come back to my side.
You see the fields of flowers
but I only see me.
There is a world diseased and dying
but here I am.
Please find me here.
Forget me not.
Forgive me for my doubt
and the gods that are my pain.
I don't understand.
My mind become more clouded
pain more intense.
I don't want to be saved,
I want to be yours.
I speak contradiction
and have my life engraved in stone.
It seems like the view of a sea.
White sands and eternal oceans.
My weakness and hate evident.
The tears I shed are for myself.
I've never remembered another
or cared to help give my abundance.
It is self.
No why or how.
No rhyme or reason.
Just this shattered heart
feeling lungs collapse.
Feeling the pain in my stomach build
for no reason.
Can we go alone,
just You and I?
Could You carry me to distant shores
although You have already died?
Can you carry the weight of my sins
and the weight of this dead body?
Can you carry me through eternity
and wipe away every tear?
Will you please save me,
Savior?
Redeemer?
Your cross is horrifying in its beauty.
Undying love at the price of a life.
My pride, my lust and my ambition
the hammers that drove nails
and here I lay on this mountain
covered in the dirt of this worlds triteness.
I feel the cold piercing my bones.
The fever of endless dreams
while waiting on this mountain side.
I wait while my faith breathes its last
and my body longs to give in with one last sigh
so please do not forget me Father.
Do not leave me here
rotting in my shame.
Ιησού Χριστού
Χριστέ μου, σωτήρας, με σώσεις.
Για τον λόγο σας, την ομορφιά σας.
Αποθήκευση μου.
Καθαρίζονται με το αίμα μου,
πλύνετε την ψυχή μου καθαρή.
Πατέρα, πατέρα μου.
Αγάπη μου με τον τρόπο που μόνο εσείς μπορείτε.
Είμαι κλάμα για την αγάπη σας
και μόνο εσείς μπορείτε να με σώσεις.
Θα ξεχάσουμε αυτές τις λέξεις
αλλά ποτέ δεν μου επιτρέπει να ξεχνάμε
η αγάπη σου για μένα.
Ιησού Χριστού,
σώσεις.
Για τον λόγο σας, την ομορφιά σας.
Αποθήκευση μου.
Καθαρίζονται με το αίμα μου,
πλύνετε την ψυχή μου καθαρή.
Πατέρα, πατέρα μου.
Αγάπη μου με τον τρόπο που μόνο εσείς μπορείτε.
Είμαι κλάμα για την αγάπη σας
και μόνο εσείς μπορείτε να με σώσεις.
Θα ξεχάσουμε αυτές τις λέξεις
αλλά ποτέ δεν μου επιτρέπει να ξεχνάμε
η αγάπη σου για μένα.
Ιησού Χριστού,
σώσεις.
Friday, April 10, 2009
"Every New Day" - Five Iron Frenzy
When I was young, the smallest trick of light,
Could catch my eye,
Then life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped for things unseen,
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
Watered Heaven with their tears,
Before words were spoken,
Before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach,
Was not so high,
Then I thought the world was so much smaller,
Feeling that I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
Behind infinity,
Below the face of Heaven,
He stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep piling
Up on my back.
So hard to breathe,
To take the next step.
The mountain is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace.
Dear God...
Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition,
without a beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever Yours,
Only You can make every new day seem so new.
Could catch my eye,
Then life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped for things unseen,
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
Watered Heaven with their tears,
Before words were spoken,
Before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach,
Was not so high,
Then I thought the world was so much smaller,
Feeling that I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
Behind infinity,
Below the face of Heaven,
He stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep piling
Up on my back.
So hard to breathe,
To take the next step.
The mountain is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace.
Dear God...
Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition,
without a beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever Yours,
Only You can make every new day seem so new.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Sing For Tomorrow Burns
With every revolving relentless cycle
this stagnation is quickened.
Every breath brings another pain
another in a lengthy list of offenses.
Actuality ceases to bring meaning
in this cancer and never ending sickness,
with every broken heart harkened
to return to life abandoning sleep.
Poisoned veins empty onto ground
glisten in half truths
fooling only the self,
breathing life into the dumbfound.
Awaken at long lost from slumber
on this final day.
All of our meaning becomes crystallized
when all will be seen,
the sky rolled up like a curtain
and the defective exposed in their flaws
and the casting down of the demonized.
Speaking their madness no more
they will be bound eternally
to torment no more
and those freed by the shed blood
of the One
will be made whole,
freed from this final disease.
The cancer of soul.
No more heartbreak.
No more sin.
No more casting about within.
No more trite metaphor.
No more false pretension.
Only one way of salvation.
Only freedom.
this stagnation is quickened.
Every breath brings another pain
another in a lengthy list of offenses.
Actuality ceases to bring meaning
in this cancer and never ending sickness,
with every broken heart harkened
to return to life abandoning sleep.
Poisoned veins empty onto ground
glisten in half truths
fooling only the self,
breathing life into the dumbfound.
Awaken at long lost from slumber
on this final day.
All of our meaning becomes crystallized
when all will be seen,
the sky rolled up like a curtain
and the defective exposed in their flaws
and the casting down of the demonized.
Speaking their madness no more
they will be bound eternally
to torment no more
and those freed by the shed blood
of the One
will be made whole,
freed from this final disease.
The cancer of soul.
No more heartbreak.
No more sin.
No more casting about within.
No more trite metaphor.
No more false pretension.
Only one way of salvation.
Only freedom.
Better Words Needed
You certainly know how to make one smile,
thanks a million for everything
and you help make it all worthwhile.
Even deeply within this dark circle
never knowing what is next
always knowing there is an angel
on my side aiding the vexed.
Words never offer substance
sincere enough to give life
to all these fleeting thoughts
about your aide in fighting this trite
and excuse filled life.
thanks a million for everything
and you help make it all worthwhile.
Even deeply within this dark circle
never knowing what is next
always knowing there is an angel
on my side aiding the vexed.
Words never offer substance
sincere enough to give life
to all these fleeting thoughts
about your aide in fighting this trite
and excuse filled life.
Numerous Tangets...
I keep having these really vivid dreams...I just woke up again...it was me being back at school...it's hard to phrase everything because it is really so silly...and I don't like looking utterly ridiculous...even on here...I can only be myself to so much of a degree before I start feeling so...exo-outside of this skin and body...and the dream was vivid enough and incorporated a few dozen people I knew from back Mobile and high school.
I'm not sure dreams mean anything other then the fact they are random neurological impulses firing through the brain...and trying to make sense of a human is impossible...as impossible as track the quantum mechanics that govern the sub atomic particles and their little dances through the infinite void of which matter consists of.
Well make sense of them in the sense that I'm tired of being in this isolation, this exile of such.
The more time a person spends outside of REAL community the more dehumanized they become...the less they are capable of their true purpose and of becoming who they are. Whether we like it or not we need other people to realize who we are...oddity that it is.
I'm not sure dreams mean anything other then the fact they are random neurological impulses firing through the brain...and trying to make sense of a human is impossible...as impossible as track the quantum mechanics that govern the sub atomic particles and their little dances through the infinite void of which matter consists of.
Well make sense of them in the sense that I'm tired of being in this isolation, this exile of such.
The more time a person spends outside of REAL community the more dehumanized they become...the less they are capable of their true purpose and of becoming who they are. Whether we like it or not we need other people to realize who we are...oddity that it is.
Distant Yet Close, Far Away But Near
Being lost in this labyrinth of my mind for so long...I've ignored so many well meaning friends, people who have done more then their fair share of trying to help me...all the while I have wondered lost and bitter in my own world. This medicated haze broken only by a few rays of sunlight that burn so much.
It is almost like trying to learn to be human again.
I've forgotten what compassion looks like, that love is not just a ludicrous human emotion conjured by futile attempts to give meaning to an otherwise meaningless life and that hope, dear God hope is not just real but it is this fire that burns in my heart...and that You, only You can make my heart beat twice as fast whenever you draw near.
I can't pretend to have a special clarity or that somehow I have found something no one else has...just that I run myself into the ground every day and lay here in shambles and even thought I curse the day as being night...there is more hope and life than I can scarcely hope to believe in.
When will this end?
Friday maybe. It could easily go either way, I may die today or Friday or in another hospital in twenty years. God knows I don't know at all and do not need to know.
I've stumbled through life and have been dragged along for most of it and here I am at another threshold. It feels like the day I woke up in Mobile and I had graduation in a few hours. John was kind enough to stay with me, drive me around so I could find some dress shoes that were overpriced and then drop off at the civic center for graduation.
Some friends are just so good you don't deserve them, especially when you tend to act as a pompus know it all that is laughing at the joke that the rest of the world hasn't gotten yet.
And yet, there is still love. It's amazing how clarity makes everything more beautiful and painful at the same time...sort of like finally getting to breath again after holding your breath for what feels like an eternity, like waking from a nightmare to find yourself in bed or to finally be able to walk again after being so drugged up you can't get yourself off the bathroom floor and you have to crawl to your bed and hope you don't throw up again...this release of bondage, this breaking of the chains tying you down, having your spirit freed so you can fly and run to freedom.
It's all this and more...it's impossible to put into words because every metaphor is full of inadequacy.
Screams in the night being replace by sobs being replaced by gasps for air and finally laying there realizing everything you've wasted life on was worthless but oh the beauty, the clarity of knowing that it doesn't matter because love can rescue you at your last moments of life and that the blood already spent is enough to cover over the world's monuments to sin.
It's something not here yet but it is coming, something seemingly impossible but nearly tangible, feelings beyond consideration but grounded in this moment and place and time.
It is here, it is there, it is coming but has always been here even though we just haven't seen him.
It's every moment of my life played back at fast speed, rewinding to show every step I have taken and the thousands I have came into contact with and those whose faces I know but whose names I can't remember. Seeing the pain and loss of innocence painted on walls as murals and warnings for the horror show of life...but still the undercurrent of hope that rips the air from your lungs because the joy is so beautiful, so complete and so without end.
How wonderful, how beautiful, new forever and world without end.
It is almost like trying to learn to be human again.
I've forgotten what compassion looks like, that love is not just a ludicrous human emotion conjured by futile attempts to give meaning to an otherwise meaningless life and that hope, dear God hope is not just real but it is this fire that burns in my heart...and that You, only You can make my heart beat twice as fast whenever you draw near.
I can't pretend to have a special clarity or that somehow I have found something no one else has...just that I run myself into the ground every day and lay here in shambles and even thought I curse the day as being night...there is more hope and life than I can scarcely hope to believe in.
When will this end?
Friday maybe. It could easily go either way, I may die today or Friday or in another hospital in twenty years. God knows I don't know at all and do not need to know.
I've stumbled through life and have been dragged along for most of it and here I am at another threshold. It feels like the day I woke up in Mobile and I had graduation in a few hours. John was kind enough to stay with me, drive me around so I could find some dress shoes that were overpriced and then drop off at the civic center for graduation.
Some friends are just so good you don't deserve them, especially when you tend to act as a pompus know it all that is laughing at the joke that the rest of the world hasn't gotten yet.
And yet, there is still love. It's amazing how clarity makes everything more beautiful and painful at the same time...sort of like finally getting to breath again after holding your breath for what feels like an eternity, like waking from a nightmare to find yourself in bed or to finally be able to walk again after being so drugged up you can't get yourself off the bathroom floor and you have to crawl to your bed and hope you don't throw up again...this release of bondage, this breaking of the chains tying you down, having your spirit freed so you can fly and run to freedom.
It's all this and more...it's impossible to put into words because every metaphor is full of inadequacy.
Screams in the night being replace by sobs being replaced by gasps for air and finally laying there realizing everything you've wasted life on was worthless but oh the beauty, the clarity of knowing that it doesn't matter because love can rescue you at your last moments of life and that the blood already spent is enough to cover over the world's monuments to sin.
It's something not here yet but it is coming, something seemingly impossible but nearly tangible, feelings beyond consideration but grounded in this moment and place and time.
It is here, it is there, it is coming but has always been here even though we just haven't seen him.
It's every moment of my life played back at fast speed, rewinding to show every step I have taken and the thousands I have came into contact with and those whose faces I know but whose names I can't remember. Seeing the pain and loss of innocence painted on walls as murals and warnings for the horror show of life...but still the undercurrent of hope that rips the air from your lungs because the joy is so beautiful, so complete and so without end.
How wonderful, how beautiful, new forever and world without end.
Life and Grieving
I do not function well around people that are mentally retarded. Partly it is because my older sister has a small disability that developed because of oxygen deprivation when she was younger and ever since then she has had trouble learning...she wanted to go to college but wasn't able to...so instead so works at the same place my mom does (Blue Cross and Blue Shield) in the mail department.
I say that to bring up a part of my high school experience. When I started doing weekly Wednesday morning meetings at school there was always one guy who would always show up, regardless of whether or not anyone else did (including my close circle of friends) a guy named Thomas, who had a severe mental disability. When he was a young child he had drank some sort of cleaner and it almost killed him and so he had trouble talking at times but he had this ridiculously strong faith that he always shared with those around him and more often then not made me realize how shallow mine is.
It hurt to see him, to talk to him and hear him speak because it showed my own inability...my pride, my addiction to attention...how I needed people to pay attention to 'my' message...and it's not like Thomas realized what he was doing...to him it was just as natural as knowing when to leave class because of a bell ringing.
Anyway...like I said, he would always be there on Wednesday mornings, regardless. We were in the same grade as well. I don't know how he could understand the love of Christ except to say that he saw Jesus face to face in a way I barely understand and don't think I'll ever understand. No matter how hard I've tried to stop this I can't help but try to measure my success by quantity and how many people were at any given meeting or heard me speak...just this part of me that isn't bad necessarily but a part of me that misses the entire point at the same time.
The last time I saw Thomas was in the spring of 2007, the night before my grandmother's funeral, at the wake. He was brought there with the grandmother of a cousin of mine who use to be my best friend. I have never dealt with the loss of my grandmother and still keep trying to repress it and hold things back...the grief terrifies me...but of all the things I remember about that horrifying week was Thomas and my cousins grandmother coming up to me. The little old lady hugged me and like most southern ladies had this air of understanding about her...and I can't remember what she said but I do remember what happened next. Thomas, who is almost as tall as I am, walked up to me and hugged me and said that he was sorry...but everything would be okay because my grandmother was with Jesus right then.
I have no idea how I held myself together and didn't break down sobbing right there...but I did. I honestly hate when people talk about death and Jesus. I don't want to hear about how she or my dad is 'with Jesus'. I've never been good at dealing with loss of any kind...of having parts of me just ripped away...its a feeling that I think may be universal but tangible and paramount only to those at any moment of time...in other words we all may know what this feeling is like but it is a burden a person has to suffer through alone and something they can't be helped through. They have to choose to walk forward or allow the grief to smother them.
There is only so much we can know and that we can learn about life...but here we are. Belief and faith are not as much as something a person can choose...but He finds you...and will not let you stay where you are...and once you are His, He won't let go...no matter how hard you fight to hang onto these scraps of a life that no longer have any meaning.
Luckily blessings aren't just for the ones who kneel.
Luckily.
I say that to bring up a part of my high school experience. When I started doing weekly Wednesday morning meetings at school there was always one guy who would always show up, regardless of whether or not anyone else did (including my close circle of friends) a guy named Thomas, who had a severe mental disability. When he was a young child he had drank some sort of cleaner and it almost killed him and so he had trouble talking at times but he had this ridiculously strong faith that he always shared with those around him and more often then not made me realize how shallow mine is.
It hurt to see him, to talk to him and hear him speak because it showed my own inability...my pride, my addiction to attention...how I needed people to pay attention to 'my' message...and it's not like Thomas realized what he was doing...to him it was just as natural as knowing when to leave class because of a bell ringing.
Anyway...like I said, he would always be there on Wednesday mornings, regardless. We were in the same grade as well. I don't know how he could understand the love of Christ except to say that he saw Jesus face to face in a way I barely understand and don't think I'll ever understand. No matter how hard I've tried to stop this I can't help but try to measure my success by quantity and how many people were at any given meeting or heard me speak...just this part of me that isn't bad necessarily but a part of me that misses the entire point at the same time.
The last time I saw Thomas was in the spring of 2007, the night before my grandmother's funeral, at the wake. He was brought there with the grandmother of a cousin of mine who use to be my best friend. I have never dealt with the loss of my grandmother and still keep trying to repress it and hold things back...the grief terrifies me...but of all the things I remember about that horrifying week was Thomas and my cousins grandmother coming up to me. The little old lady hugged me and like most southern ladies had this air of understanding about her...and I can't remember what she said but I do remember what happened next. Thomas, who is almost as tall as I am, walked up to me and hugged me and said that he was sorry...but everything would be okay because my grandmother was with Jesus right then.
I have no idea how I held myself together and didn't break down sobbing right there...but I did. I honestly hate when people talk about death and Jesus. I don't want to hear about how she or my dad is 'with Jesus'. I've never been good at dealing with loss of any kind...of having parts of me just ripped away...its a feeling that I think may be universal but tangible and paramount only to those at any moment of time...in other words we all may know what this feeling is like but it is a burden a person has to suffer through alone and something they can't be helped through. They have to choose to walk forward or allow the grief to smother them.
There is only so much we can know and that we can learn about life...but here we are. Belief and faith are not as much as something a person can choose...but He finds you...and will not let you stay where you are...and once you are His, He won't let go...no matter how hard you fight to hang onto these scraps of a life that no longer have any meaning.
Luckily blessings aren't just for the ones who kneel.
Luckily.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
"Far, Far Away" - Five Iron Frenzy
Staring at the shoreline
wishing for some hope
the weight of empty fishing nets
is more than twisted rope
And underneath stern faces
they wait with baited breath
with broken hearts from hoping
while casting out their nets
See the figure on the shore
He speaks His words like plain men sing
His hands they still have holes in them
glory to the King
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
And Peter was a liar
a traitor just like me
and Judas was a hypocrite
and Paul a Pharisee
When truth can be so distant
and hope evades our reach
Peter swam across the water
and found it on the beach
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
I hear they’ll hang you upside down
stretched across two boards
for hearing distant voices
and crossing to the Lord.
wishing for some hope
the weight of empty fishing nets
is more than twisted rope
And underneath stern faces
they wait with baited breath
with broken hearts from hoping
while casting out their nets
See the figure on the shore
He speaks His words like plain men sing
His hands they still have holes in them
glory to the King
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
And Peter was a liar
a traitor just like me
and Judas was a hypocrite
and Paul a Pharisee
When truth can be so distant
and hope evades our reach
Peter swam across the water
and found it on the beach
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
I hear they’ll hang you upside down
stretched across two boards
for hearing distant voices
and crossing to the Lord.
Excerpt from 'The Screwtape Letters' by C.S. Lewis
"Work hard, then, on the disappointment or anticlimax which is certainly coming to the patient during his first few weeks as a churchman. The Enemy allows this disappointment to occur on the threshold of every human endeavor. It occurs when the boy who has been enchanted in the nursery by Stories from the Odyssey buckles down to really learning Greek. it occurs when lovers have got married and begin the real task of learning to live together. In every department of life it marks the transition from dreaming aspiration to laborious doing. The Enemy takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His 'free' lovers and servants - 'sons' is the word He uses, with His inveterate love of degrading the whole spiritual world by unnatural liaisons with the two-legged animals.
Desiring their freedom, He therefore refuses to carry them, by their mere affections and habits, to any of the goals which He sets before them: He leaves them to 'do it on their own'. And there lies our opportunity. But also, remember, there lies our danger. If once they get through this initial dryness successfully, they become much less dependent on emotion and therefore much harder to tempt."
-Screwtape
Desiring their freedom, He therefore refuses to carry them, by their mere affections and habits, to any of the goals which He sets before them: He leaves them to 'do it on their own'. And there lies our opportunity. But also, remember, there lies our danger. If once they get through this initial dryness successfully, they become much less dependent on emotion and therefore much harder to tempt."
-Screwtape
Monday, April 6, 2009
And...now?
Jesus...what is any of this really worth to you?
Your perspective is eternity and time is a relative concept you laugh at.
What is this?
What is this madness called life?
Yeah...I'm asking why.
I'm sick of this, I'm just tired of the way things are and how they could be.
What is the point of hope, peace and love when they won't work in this world you made?
What of this?
What...what of this?
Your perspective is eternity and time is a relative concept you laugh at.
What is this?
What is this madness called life?
Yeah...I'm asking why.
I'm sick of this, I'm just tired of the way things are and how they could be.
What is the point of hope, peace and love when they won't work in this world you made?
What of this?
What...what of this?
"Peace on Earth" - U2
Heaven on Earth, we need it now
I'm sick of all of this hanging around
Sick of sorrow, sick of the pain
I'm sick of hearing again and again
That there's gonna be peace on Earth
Where I grew up there weren't many trees
Where there was we'd tear them down
And use them on our enemies
They say that what you mock
Will surely overtake you
And you become a monster
So the monster will not break you
And it's already gone too far
Who said that if you go in hard
You won't get hurt
Jesus can you take the time
To throw a drowning man a line
Peace on Earth
Tell the ones who hear no sound
Whose sons are living in the ground
Peace on Earth
No whos or whys
No one cries like a mother cries
For peace on Earth
She never got to say goodbye
To see the color in his eyes
Now he's in the dirt
Peace on Earth
They're reading names out over the radio
All the folks the rest of us won't get to know
Sean and Julia, Gareth, Ann and Breda
Their lives are bigger than any big idea
Jesus can you take the time
To throw a drowning man a line
Peace on Earth
To tell the ones who hear no sound
Whose sons are living in the ground
Peace on Earth
Jesus sing a song you wrote
The words are sticking in my throat
Peace on Earth
Hear it every Christmas time
But hope and history won't rhyme
So what's it worth
This peace on Earth
Peace on Earth
I'm sick of all of this hanging around
Sick of sorrow, sick of the pain
I'm sick of hearing again and again
That there's gonna be peace on Earth
Where I grew up there weren't many trees
Where there was we'd tear them down
And use them on our enemies
They say that what you mock
Will surely overtake you
And you become a monster
So the monster will not break you
And it's already gone too far
Who said that if you go in hard
You won't get hurt
Jesus can you take the time
To throw a drowning man a line
Peace on Earth
Tell the ones who hear no sound
Whose sons are living in the ground
Peace on Earth
No whos or whys
No one cries like a mother cries
For peace on Earth
She never got to say goodbye
To see the color in his eyes
Now he's in the dirt
Peace on Earth
They're reading names out over the radio
All the folks the rest of us won't get to know
Sean and Julia, Gareth, Ann and Breda
Their lives are bigger than any big idea
Jesus can you take the time
To throw a drowning man a line
Peace on Earth
To tell the ones who hear no sound
Whose sons are living in the ground
Peace on Earth
Jesus sing a song you wrote
The words are sticking in my throat
Peace on Earth
Hear it every Christmas time
But hope and history won't rhyme
So what's it worth
This peace on Earth
Peace on Earth
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Sole Need
Blessed spirit revive again
bring forth hope
rain down love
and revive again.
Bring forth the rain
upon this barren land
devoid of life.
Bring forth the hope
and the water we need.
bring forth hope
rain down love
and revive again.
Bring forth the rain
upon this barren land
devoid of life.
Bring forth the hope
and the water we need.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
"So Great A Salvation" - The OC Supertones
Woke up this morning
And I just had to thank God for my life
Just read through James' book
Start to pray and ask God for a wife
It's a time of devotion
As I sit and speak to my God unseen
Why should He listen?
Well I love Him and He's in love with me
Why me God? Why should You choose me?
On your team God, can You use even me?
I think a few years back
On a road that headed to nowhere
Now that You found me
I can see that You were always there
So great a salvation
But to You my Jesus what am I worth?
It's quiet times like this
I feel I get a glimpse of Heaven right here on earth
Why me God? Why should You choose me?
On your team God, can You use even me?
Oh, hold me in your arms of love
Sometimes I swear I feel your heartbeat
I could never ever thank You enough
But here's my life for whatever it's worth
And I just had to thank God for my life
Just read through James' book
Start to pray and ask God for a wife
It's a time of devotion
As I sit and speak to my God unseen
Why should He listen?
Well I love Him and He's in love with me
Why me God? Why should You choose me?
On your team God, can You use even me?
I think a few years back
On a road that headed to nowhere
Now that You found me
I can see that You were always there
So great a salvation
But to You my Jesus what am I worth?
It's quiet times like this
I feel I get a glimpse of Heaven right here on earth
Why me God? Why should You choose me?
On your team God, can You use even me?
Oh, hold me in your arms of love
Sometimes I swear I feel your heartbeat
I could never ever thank You enough
But here's my life for whatever it's worth
Friday, April 3, 2009
One Horror Show of a Night
Panic Attack.
Walls too close.
Light too far.
Hard to breath.
Think.
Concentrate.
Feeling false and so fake.
Pain.
God, so much pain.
Cannot think.
Cannot see.
So hard.
So very hard.
Numbness.
Thoughtlessness.
Incomprehensibly numb.
Nothing coherent.
Lies, so many lies.
Faithless lies betraying me.
Exposure, naked exposure.
Every last lie and fable I've told.
Everything pointing to me.
So much pain.
Mind racing.
Heart pounding.
Sweat beading.
Pain crashing.
Coherently constricting around my heart.
Sensibilities making less sense.
Disposablity complete.
Incomprehensible pain I never understand.
Why?
What?
When?
Where?
Did it happen?
Now.
No more.
Please.
Please.
...please.
No more words to scream
just echoing inescapable silence.
I'm afraid of this darkness.
It comes back and never leaves.
This growing darkness laying claim to my heart
calling out to me from forever.
I hate this place
God I loathe it almost as much as me.
Broken shards of a mirror
just reflecting blood and smirks.
God, please?
God, please?
No more.
No more here.
Jesus Christ, light of the world
illuminate this impossibly dark night.
Break this frightened heart of stone
and pour in your life,
your blood spilled for me.
Oh Jesus,
please just for me.
Hold me tight in this never ending night.
Hold me close.
Never leave me as I have left You.
Oh please.
Please.
Savior, save me.
Walls too close.
Light too far.
Hard to breath.
Think.
Concentrate.
Feeling false and so fake.
Pain.
God, so much pain.
Cannot think.
Cannot see.
So hard.
So very hard.
Numbness.
Thoughtlessness.
Incomprehensibly numb.
Nothing coherent.
Lies, so many lies.
Faithless lies betraying me.
Exposure, naked exposure.
Every last lie and fable I've told.
Everything pointing to me.
So much pain.
Mind racing.
Heart pounding.
Sweat beading.
Pain crashing.
Coherently constricting around my heart.
Sensibilities making less sense.
Disposablity complete.
Incomprehensible pain I never understand.
Why?
What?
When?
Where?
Did it happen?
Now.
No more.
Please.
Please.
...please.
No more words to scream
just echoing inescapable silence.
I'm afraid of this darkness.
It comes back and never leaves.
This growing darkness laying claim to my heart
calling out to me from forever.
I hate this place
God I loathe it almost as much as me.
Broken shards of a mirror
just reflecting blood and smirks.
God, please?
God, please?
No more.
No more here.
Jesus Christ, light of the world
illuminate this impossibly dark night.
Break this frightened heart of stone
and pour in your life,
your blood spilled for me.
Oh Jesus,
please just for me.
Hold me tight in this never ending night.
Hold me close.
Never leave me as I have left You.
Oh please.
Please.
Savior, save me.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Me
I'm not sure if I've been to this place before or not.
The music is familiar...I just am having trouble feeling anything. My hands are quite numb...my mind doesn't want to work...I feel...fear of some sort.
The end is soon...but soon is subjective. Time is relative so all of this is happening at once...streams of thought simultaneously viewed as the same from God's perspective.
That is how He feels such intense love towards us and hate towards sin...it's seeing the conclusions before they are evident to us...seeing the heavenly or hellish creatures we become and make evident with our lives in this world. It is not causality or fatalism...it is love that He allows us to live and then do the impossible with His help...we affect ourselves and this world more then we know...it is love that is salvation and freedom from self...sacrifice makes one kill this beast or narcissism and we find salvation in the mundane...this deep and passionate love that hates the cliche and the hypocrisy that most movements are on any given day.
I sometimes wonder if I'm going to be able to let go of the medication if I'm ever healed...if I can let go of feeling numb so I can feel something more...things are hazy and more painful...there is no euphoria...but it is the self hate I've wanted for a long time...and that is a narcissistic addiction I need salvation from.
The music is familiar...I just am having trouble feeling anything. My hands are quite numb...my mind doesn't want to work...I feel...fear of some sort.
The end is soon...but soon is subjective. Time is relative so all of this is happening at once...streams of thought simultaneously viewed as the same from God's perspective.
That is how He feels such intense love towards us and hate towards sin...it's seeing the conclusions before they are evident to us...seeing the heavenly or hellish creatures we become and make evident with our lives in this world. It is not causality or fatalism...it is love that He allows us to live and then do the impossible with His help...we affect ourselves and this world more then we know...it is love that is salvation and freedom from self...sacrifice makes one kill this beast or narcissism and we find salvation in the mundane...this deep and passionate love that hates the cliche and the hypocrisy that most movements are on any given day.
I sometimes wonder if I'm going to be able to let go of the medication if I'm ever healed...if I can let go of feeling numb so I can feel something more...things are hazy and more painful...there is no euphoria...but it is the self hate I've wanted for a long time...and that is a narcissistic addiction I need salvation from.
Goodbye Can't Come Late Enough
Apathy kills
like the music bleeding from your head,
being a thrill
forgetting what it means to live.
Contrived thoughts
blended and poured out.
Nothing sought
with sanity out for the day.
Rhythmic pulses
running through sound and life
being their cheap version.
It's all so cheap indeed.
More morbid dark thoughts as I consider life
and really this past
and everything revolving
including this sun and stars
and the path that first brought me to you.
It's hard for me to keep focused when my only focus is on me.
Belated, belittling, broken and trite me.
I make it all about me anyway
why not this?
Choices and decisions.
Inferiority and life.
Dancing in the wind.
Nothing really
with everything so broken and displaced.
I want to run
and just hide
from the gaze of the mirror that I cannot see.
It all makes sense from a broken and disjointed point of view.
The need to end this,
end this now
anyhow
anyway
just ending the pain that overloads
and makes no sense.
Just some salvation from this.
Anyway and anyhow
some sort of life line away from this,
this empty smile of death.
I hate what I see
and wish I just couldn't see anymore.
Everything is dying and we want something more
something less than real
something plastic and disposable.
It's a pity that life can't be carried in such a way
carried in a bag and set up for your convenience.
Just so I could be a bit more normal for your sake.
Doesn't matter as long as I'm a carbon copy
of just whatever the hell it is you wanted.
Not this broken and mottled package
but this perfect little piece of glass
and porcelain shit that would make you happy.
Just you.
Really, that is about it.
Because you would think
that this is all about you anyway.
Just like the rest.
like the music bleeding from your head,
being a thrill
forgetting what it means to live.
Contrived thoughts
blended and poured out.
Nothing sought
with sanity out for the day.
Rhythmic pulses
running through sound and life
being their cheap version.
It's all so cheap indeed.
More morbid dark thoughts as I consider life
and really this past
and everything revolving
including this sun and stars
and the path that first brought me to you.
It's hard for me to keep focused when my only focus is on me.
Belated, belittling, broken and trite me.
I make it all about me anyway
why not this?
Choices and decisions.
Inferiority and life.
Dancing in the wind.
Nothing really
with everything so broken and displaced.
I want to run
and just hide
from the gaze of the mirror that I cannot see.
It all makes sense from a broken and disjointed point of view.
The need to end this,
end this now
anyhow
anyway
just ending the pain that overloads
and makes no sense.
Just some salvation from this.
Anyway and anyhow
some sort of life line away from this,
this empty smile of death.
I hate what I see
and wish I just couldn't see anymore.
Everything is dying and we want something more
something less than real
something plastic and disposable.
It's a pity that life can't be carried in such a way
carried in a bag and set up for your convenience.
Just so I could be a bit more normal for your sake.
Doesn't matter as long as I'm a carbon copy
of just whatever the hell it is you wanted.
Not this broken and mottled package
but this perfect little piece of glass
and porcelain shit that would make you happy.
Just you.
Really, that is about it.
Because you would think
that this is all about you anyway.
Just like the rest.
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