Reiteration

Acid etch this soul,
leave a mark
just as You can,
make it new
and draw out anything worthwhile
that may be left.

Make this as it can be,
make it the best
and dry every tear
of every broken heart
and take away the fear
from every crippled soul,
just be.

Help me forget me
and just burn away
this profane emotion
and make it possible,
just plausible
for there to be renewal
because I don't
I just can't
see what You see.

All I see is this wall,
coated in everything I am not
and everything lacking.
Rambling, loose words
in need of loosing.








Never.
Silence.
Pain.

But as sure as I am of pain,
hope refuses to leave
even as I try to cast it out,
here it shall be.
Take me,
redeem me.
Love me.
Please.

"the storm it rages in my heart, the endless empty roars in my ears
my world is coming all apart, i've no strength left to dry my tears
and through it all i hear your voice, breaking my heart, breaking my will
calms the storm inside of my soul as you whisper 'peace, be still...'"

I have never been happier to do a little cleaning...every little bit helps.
There is no obligation or pressure...so it's easier to act out of love...

I just wish it was this easy to show love to everyone and...I wish this wasn't such an issue of convenience for me.

On the Way to Midway

I saw the clouds part in splendor
showing both heaven and earth
encased with a red hue.
Fireflies danced off the window
as my eyes looked
and searched
for what was never there.

This moment,
this trip,
this very second
was years in the making.
Except I was in the wrong direction,
the wrong place.
Everything I had assimilated
and exported in reason and mind
was because of this.
Was it not?

What is it you are looking for?
Who did you expect?
Are you surprised this tomb is empty?

The slab of rock is broken
but still awaits
what is the next sacrifice.

I play at metaphors
while waxing at sacraments,
not knowing of the things
of which I speak.

I dreamed from my chair
that I could see the sunlight
refracted in your eyes,
that red mixed with blue
making a haze
which startled me to waking.

Of where do silly dreams come?
What is this madness which seizes us?
Drives us?
Compels us to come?

I cannot begin to express what I wish
because I do not even know it.
I sat there typing a letter,
sending words
to a man dead for sixteen years.
Fluttering thoughts to the heavens
and whatever is in the in-between.

I spoke of fear and trembling,
doubt that refines the soul
just as sure as the sacrifice will.

There is pain in offering my hope
and fear
and dream
and whoever is foolish enough to follow after me.

I did not intend to get here
but somehow I did.

Thoughts, metaphors and the like.
Where this ends...I know not.
I just know it is some new beginning
when all I asked for
was just a single resolution.

"I've got a ticket to the moon
I'll be leaving here any day soon
Yeah, I've got a ticket to the moon
But I'd rather see the sunrise in your eyes.

Got a ticket to the moon
I'll be rising high above the earth so soon
And the tears I cry might turn into the rain
That gently falls upon your window
You'll never know."

...and going...going...gone from Mobile...

Tonight went so much better than I thought it would.
Just getting to laugh some...and have some...happy seconds.
Was nice.
Warm fire.
Tasty smores.

Why am I so stressed out?
What does this even matter at this point anyway...

I just realized how asinine me trying to maintain friendships with eternal optimists is.

Stress.
Stress.
Oh stress...

Please quite this ragging storm within me...pride, anger, lust, terror...radical idolatry and the fact I exist is proof enough I am broken...I can't handle this burden...the pain of carrying all of these broken things on my back...

"I am made of parts that freeze and ligaments that atrophy
Though they look they’ll never see
They don’t know something’s wrong with me
And just as well, I’ll never tell what’s underneath the scales
I’ve worn to thin to honor you, my every effort fails
So bury me with Israel and cover up my tracks
Leave not a trace of what I was, I’m never coming back
And if you’re mercy falls upon he whose blood is cold
Unearth me with your hands of love and never break your hold

The world is full of ones like me
Who need to see the truth
But the truth is never truth indeed
The truth is only you"

Meh.
I'm so not in the mood to be a hero right now...

I swear I am not a masochist...I just have bouts of temporal stupidity where I forget where I am just long enough to open myself up for more.

Blaise

Everything I was is nothing that I am.
Such shadows glimmer
as they fade away,
burning out in the night
as rays of life pass through.

Reasoning and resonance,
hope eternal
and grace abounding
in this empty hole.

Quote of the Day:

"This must be Thursday, I never could get the hang of Thursdays."
-Arthur Dent

Oh goodness...my thought process, my ability to comprehend is so so shallow...I know so very little...it is as if the last decade of me studying Christian doctrine and serving has been just to demonstrate to my mid-twenties that all I know is that I know nothing.

Thank you Socrates.
Anything else I should know whilst on my less than merry way?

I need...I need...freedom and to breath and peace.
All of these things...and so much more.

So many free flowing thoughts at an hour that should be too early for people to be allowed to make important decisions.

And...ye gads...my body freaking hates me.
Is it too much to ask that I simply live and not feel like burning exploding magma filled death on top of an emotional turmoil?
Ack.

So strange to care at this late of an hour.

"Blessed be Your Name" - Tree63

I'm so tired...of everything.
Vanity...vanity...such endless and useless vanity.
Does the stress, the conflicting confusion...the pain of breath ever end?

Is there solace when the Lover comes for his broken and lame wife?
Will there be a healing when the two are reunited?
The realm of reality has been spinning out of control since the fall...how much longer can things simply just hold together?

I need peace.
I need rest.
My spirit feels more broken now than ever...I cry out in such mutterings that only the Spirit can understand and translate.

I long for freedom...to feel the wind on my face and taste the salt spray on my tongue.

Maybe me feeling called to the west coast was just a delusion...or maybe it is a season to come. I just know...I just feel...I wish I could live with no human interaction. The pain...is too much.

So much of Jesus is in me...because it is the only part of me that loves people and wants to sacrifice for them...but a such greater part of me hates people and wishes to take my rage and seethe. I want to find solace in the dark so my heart can become stone so I will never feel the stirrings of Jesus and of love...

I just long for solace.
For peace eternal.
All from beyond my broken world.

If my stress levels get much higher I am just going to...well there is nothing I can say.

I will simply just be really, really, really stressed.

*sigh*

Quote of the Day:

“For it is great to surrender one's hope, but greater still to abide by it steadfastly after having surrendered it; for it is great to seize hold of the eternal hope, but greater still to abide steadfastly by one's worldly hopes after having rendered them.”
-Soren Kierkegaard

...did i just wake up?

Quite obviously that was stupid...but what is done is done...it is not like I can find any sort of solace these days anyway.

Poetically Portly Poetry

Dichotomy

Split into partitions we wait,
time making fools of us
just as the sand is passing by
drawing life's breath to abate.

Redundantly the lines cross
falling out of space
just as it is out of time
removing abstracts
and stranding you
with the concrete.

It is the mechanics,
the gears twisting
as the servos click and turn
making this circular madness
into something all too real,
too caustic for emotion
but unavoidable
because of bare flesh.

Wasting away
as only this one can,
just hold out for the night
and pray the resolution
is less a revolution
and just a little something
with more peace,
where the night may end
after the day has passed.
And all that will ever be may be
and the day may pass
into the dark reaches of peace.