Posts published in “Year: 2011”

His mercy
shines through
those simple musings on
what is right or wrong or
whatever grey area we make up.
In those
simple musings, He
gives us pause for choice, and we
can make ourselves who we want to be.
…That, my friends, is more than we do for ourselves.

Burying myself
To be plea-
Sant; the fur-
Thest I can be
From who is
Now held by
Soiled ground.

So,
I gave up a good thing
To be self-sufficient and
Greedy. Big mistake. I
Guessed the wrong path,
But the world spins and
So will I.
All while the band plays
another tune to show the
Way agrees.

So, you say the days we had
Are over. I say they are some
Of my fondest memories, a
Testament to what a good thing
Can be when you don’t know
It can end. But, like you said,
“All must come to an end.” And
I shake my head slowly, knowing
You’re only right a little bit– I’d
Rather look at this lifetime, not
To the next, and– I’d rather look
At this lifetime, not the next.
Kickstarted my dying heart with
A chuckle from that corner of
The mind I hadn’t used in a while.
Looked to your face as you walked
Along the curb you kicked me to,
And you smiled the same smile
I last saw that November when
Your hands first met mine. I
Gave you a chance then, and I
Guess chance is returning to me,
So I will smile along and wipe away
The dry eyes with remember-whens
And how-abouts that now fill my
Mind but will not move my lips.

The best part is, we’ll be back together
Anyway.

Forgiveness follows us to the ends
Of the Earth, proving we can never
Run from who we are to be, as fate
Calls us by name and God loves
An agenda filled with coincidence,
Never a dependence on circumstance,
Despite the consequences, though all
Is in His great plan, which we see after.

Half of my life was just a test.
I now spend my time figuring out
If that’s all I can do with what’s left.
Failed myself countless times,
Only to find my way to the finish line
When everyone’s home and the only one
To join my cheers is the Father’s Son.
But I don’t mind, how could I now?
All my days have been hollowed out
By selfish deeds and greedy thieves
Stealing from their own vault, locked away–
But, losing weight, they seem light enough
To hang above my head in peaceful protest of
The life I spent challenging me, myself, and He.

I
Feel ashamed when I fall out of favor.
I
Lower my head, relax my shoulders,
And lose my way toward the simplest
Of destinations. I trip over my thoughts
To bring myself back to the trail I
Feel I was pushed from. I
Run through paved clearings and
Brake to take a route through
The woods:the limbs and leaves
Grazing me as I sprint and stumble,
Sprint and stumble toward
The benches between trees and where
The irregulars walk at a safe distance from.
That’s
Really what this is about: safety.
The
Ability to be safely away from
Who is looking a threat,
Who is still while we are moving.
And, we must show them, the
Sitters, still, we are not afraid;
Though, truly, we are– or distance
Would be but an inconvenience.

Show. That’s what we do. We
Show others who we want to be,
Like puppets of ourselves, and
Reluctant ring leaders hiding
The lack of any acts. All the while,
We long for others to see through
This visage/this brittle, transparent
Film we’ve placed in our own eyes,
But for theirs. Here is where the
Clues become relevant, though the
Others seldom look to watch our acts
And, thusly, see our tells. How funny.

I
Stand around and watch you
Standing
Somewhere only eyes can reach
And
You bother to look back for noises
But
Not for my stare.
That
Seems fair; I’m not important
To you;
I just watch you, alone,
Counting
The nights, but always starting over
When
I forget/–did I count one for the last?

The shoulders are but barriers
To your smile, your scowl, your
Changing of your skin to mimic
Those you’ve seen before feeling
The way you do– or so they say.
I place a face on you, your neck
Balancing so gracefully the entire
Beauty of this small, 4-walled world.
Don’t worry, I don’t want you–
You’re taken, I can tell. The ring,
The stolen glances quickly given to the floor–
I see you with their arm around you;
You call me, “creep,” and look away
As though my bolts ‘ve shown through,
Or my snout came out. ‘Is the way
Of things we don’t care for– humility
Is lost and finds its way to the other side
Of the room, where I am, and waits
For my eventual realization that
To look is to touch with eyes, and
Touching is a very personal matter
Best left to lovers, not observers.
I wish you knew I don’t care about you.
You mean to me as a magazine cover
To a teenager saving up for their first car.
You are but an image, a way to know
I can find my own you, no matter
Who you are.

 

I
Live with myself and try to
Live
In as much as doing of a word can be
Done,
But I only live when my mind can’t continue
Trying
To find my own you.