online again

[deep breath]
Well... after much time has passed, I am finally typing a blog post from the comfort of my own home! [Mom, I figured it out somehow. Bubb, thanks for the tips!]
In my last post I said I wouldn't post till after new years. I lied, sorry.
This is just my way of "getting the news out" that I'm "independently online" again.
[the photos are of the box my Mother's gift was in]
Hope you had a blessed & peaceful Christmas.
B

P.S. there are many more photos to come....

poem fragment

The Endless Poem [or The Poem of Infinity]

[christmas... the birth of hope]
a child is born this night
a boy
a son
the light (& hope)
of the world
of the created universe
born without defect
to accept all defects
born to rid poeple like me
of our wounds & scars
yet keep the ones
I've put on Him
this boy
this man
is tangible hope not "I hope so" hope
hope I can "hang with"
hope that will never get lost
hope that refuses to die
the man born this day
is different than all others
born of his own choosing
will allow us to beat him
kill him
so that
by doing so
he
can save us
...from ourselves.

This man
This "Prince of God"
is heir
to an unchallengable kingdom
a son
who's father
is ageless
matchless
fathumless
insurmountable
untamable
unmeasurable
...
[end of this fragment]


Remember...
What's under the tree
isn't nearly as wonderful, valuable, or priceless...
as who put it there.

the real gifts at Christmas
are around the tree
what's under it are post it notes
to remind you of them.

Poeple are the best gifts.

Merry Christmas,
B

Ok, a long over due update

My pc has been down for a few months, this you knew...
I now know my local "c" drive is bad [it has bad "sectors" on it]. I may have lost some of my poems, music, & photos. [ouch!]
The good news is: I got a new hard drive. Which my Sister-in-law's boyfriend is installing.
He's recovering all he can from my bad drive, & moving it onto this new one.
So I should be up & going in Jan. I've had lots of post ideas, but running to someone else's pc to write & post them just isn't me.
So as of about 4:30 here, what ever I post today will be the last I post till Jan 2010.


Have a wonderful Christmas & New Years!
B

Twist

Wow... been a long time since I've been on here. Still without my own funtioning pc.
I'll try to get back on here a little more often than this. [& I'll try to type some poems into here as well]
so many posts to get on here. today Pastor Brian talked about ReJesus. Rebooting our view of him. Letting Him change [create us] rather than the other way around. P. Brian put up a picture of Jesus on the cross & made this comment: "for some of us He's still on there".
which reminded me of a song [most things do]. careful, this is kind of "in your face" lyrically...
[from the cd The Berry Vest of the Swirling Eddies]

TWIST
"...then look me in the face
at least what's left of it
tell me you still love me
just a
a little bit
or nail me down
break the skin
hard enough
to do me in
but don't leave me hangin'
dyin'
danglin'
twisting in the wind..."

kinda rough... but I certainly don't want "buddy Jesus" or my personal fav. shirt to abhore: "Jesus is my homeboy".

I should go for now...
take care

Well... it's the end of Sept. I'm in the middle of a million things right now. ...&, sadly, fixing my computer isn't one of them. I went to the outer banks, loved it. I have about 10 posts working their way through my head.

but for now... I'm just going to post pictures.

I gotta get home to some projects I'm in the middle of... [& a Blonde]

half a glass....

Hi. A quick note, here. My pc is down, & vacation is around the corner. so I think I'm going to be down [here/facebook/twitter/blipfm] for much of Sept. So I can focus on my vacation [Cape Hatteras with in-laws], & fixing/replacing my pc.

However... I'm struck by the question: "Is the glass half empty, or half full?"
If all you're gonna do is look at it, it's a complete waste. Fill it, drink it, both... if you don't use something... who cares how much of it you have??

Saw G.I. Joe, yesterday. Snake-Eyes is my favorite character. I loved the conversation around him near the beginning:
"what's his story?"
"He doesn't speak."
"why?"
"He never says."
How does he tie into the glass? ...it's not how much power you have... it's what you do with it that counts. [or don't do with it, which is how Snake-Eyes & Jesus fit together for me -I'll explain later]

Have a wonderful month.
Life is often desperate, but never hopeless. - Robert Fripp
B

A living room lead…

Living room sanctuary

I crawl down there

Hands & knees

Scramble onto the couch

Sunglasses on

Even though the sun can’t properly get in

A living room prison?

…not really,

A living room

Sanctuary, perhaps

I stay on the couch

Immobile for a while

Bothered that I cannot do anything

Never thinking that, for some,

This has been true for years

And will be

For the rest of their life

Stuck

Inside

But I’m just stuck till I feel better

Here with You

As I wait out the dizziness

When the room stops spinning

I can start to venture out again

Or at least try to be on my feet again

And, at last I am

Ready to venture out into worlds unknown

I’m so glad that this chapter in my story is long over… That I can go out & hike, or take pictures, or just take a long drive [Sat. morning was wonderful…]

L.L. Challenge [+ 1 that's a bit different]

So, I haven't posted anything "new" in a while.... hope you like these...

Sound therapist

I’m glad you enjoy taking me with you
We’re buds
You take me everywhere
I help you cry
I help you laugh
I help you sleep
I help you to write
I even get to help you quiet yourself
So you can have special moments with Him
I have some black marks
Where I used to be just white
Sometimes I’m stuffed
& sometimes
My memory
Is rather light
I’m not the most popular
Version of me
But YOU like me
And that’s enough
You make me feel special
Useful
I’m grateful
That I’m yours
I even get to be an inspiration
For your photos
[or is that courage to take them?]
I get to help you express yourself
And I think it’s cool
Thanks

US

You & me
Are we the way
We were meant to be?
Are we good for each other?
Or would another be better
At making an “us” than we are?
I’d like to think
This “us” is not toxic
Not tragic
But perhaps a bit
Problematic
Never quite automatic
We reach for each other
Through the static
Straining against the chains
That bind us
The barriers that
Threaten
To keep us apart
We are a part
And yet pulled apart
I think we need some time
But for what I cannot say…

Scary, thankful thoughts from a trailer for a movie

I've been debating about posting a few different things. So I'll start out with this one...

I sometimes see things that really "go deep in" for me. For some reason, a song, an image, a movie trailer, just hits my soul. This trailer was one of them. The 3rd trailer for WATCHMEN. I'm not saying you should [or should not] see the film. I did just rent it.
[& haven't watched it yet. It's about 3 hours long. oh, & "just so you know" The glowing blue one is naked in much of the film I'm told. -as in, you see him naked, just fyi]
Perhaps the trailer is all that "spoke to me", we shall see. You can view it here.
What hit me was 2 phrases.

Dr. Manhattan: [in a cold, detached voice]
“why would I save a world, I no longer have any stake in?”

Rorshach: [in a gravely voice]
“the world will look up & shout, ‘save us’ ….& I’ll whisper… no.”

Of course this is further haunting with the song “take a bow” by Muse, playing in the background.
I thank God he never said either of those statements every time I watch it.I thank Him for being merciful, gracious, & kind. For not giving up on me. [or us]I don't know why it moved me so, it just did.

Superhero movies have really been interesting for me, lately.

In Iron Man, Tony Stark seems to have everything money can get you... then, one day, he's taken prisoner. Builds a metal suit, with a "new" friend, & finds something money can't purchase... purpose. "you don't understand. I finally know what I was made for."

In The Dark Knight, "...he's not the hero we want, he's the hero we need." -gee, why does this phrase seem oddly familiar?

I don't know what else to say at the moment. So I'll leave you with this odd post.And a question to ponder. You no doubt have heard many questions about superheroes. "What power would you most want & why."But can you think of a superhero's struggle? Is there any one hero that has a struggle similar to your own? [just something to think about...]

retracing

Life is still a freight train lately. But as I glanced through my poems the other day, I found an old one. I am so far away from this place now. The person who wrote this is a stranger to me now. I don't like how dark it starts, but the end is worth it, even if it is a bit "sappy". [hopefully you'll feel the same]

Diminished

Diminished,
I am
Diminished,
I
Stay.
Diminishing,
Some
Do not realize
How they help me
To become
More diminished
A word
May be all it takes
Maybe
It’s even unspoken,
Just a look will do
A lot
Of my diminishment
Is screamed
Inside
My own head
“you cannot be diminished”
It would say
Using a new word
The decrepit
Old way
“you cannot become worse
-because you are already
The worst”
Jesus
Did not die
Just
To watch this unfold
No
He died,
To fold it back up
Put it in His pocket
And walk away with it
To
Once
And for all
Whisper
“Yes, you are diminished
But your life expectancy,
Is much longer
Than that word’s is”
What will happen to Me
Will begin to wage & win the war against
Diminishment
Diminishment
Will now be transformed into
Healing,
Hope will be the prescription
God the Father
Becomes the Doctor…
Jesus,
Becomes the pharmacist
His blood
The drug we wish we could have made
[but are ohh so glad we have]

...well, as some of you have found out by now, I am not currently in the newest issue of INKLINGS. By choice [mine]. While it's nice to be in there... it is equally nice to read an issue that is wholly new to me. To have a completely new issue to "peruse". I planned this for a while [like Oct. 2008]. It is hard not to offer something, but kind of weird to be in there too. To read my words published in a hard copy, lying around church. [& who knows where else] I don't believe it's permanent, I am still writing after all. Hopefully the new issue will be online, at some point, for those of you who "don't live in the neighborhood", as the saying goes. Sorry to "plug the church I go to", but it is a blessing to be involved in a church that loves the arts. [guess I just want to "share the wealth"]
Oh... & I'm sorry my posts are erratic.

Is it a gift?

I have been asked an intriguing question, recently. For the second time. It was first about writing poems. Do you think your poem writing is a gift? [this was the first time] No. It's a breathing exercise for my hands. ...I hope that when others read them... it may help them to feel: less alone, not as different than everyone else is -or strange. That, it may somehow give words or a voice to thoughts they are trying to either say, or perhaps understand in themselves. I hope sometimes it'll make them laugh, & for a brief moment forget the lousy day they just had. I guess I also hope that some can be a thank you/love note to God. [hopefully that doesn't sound too weird]

That was my answer... then I was asked recently the same question about photos.
Do you think your photography is a gift? No. not really. I don't remember what all I said... but one phrase stuck with me & I cannot get it out of my head to save my life. [truthfully I like it, & cannot believe I said it] My answer:
If a picture is worth a thousand words... then each photo is a thousand word thank you note to God, thanking Him for whatever is in the picture. Thanking Him for His creativeness. Thanking Him for sharing it with me.

So... are these things gifts? I don't really need to answer that do I. It's hard to see them as gifts to be given. I see them as gifts to be received. I'm glad that I have them. I'm glad for what they do to/for me. Though, sometimes, I'm glad no one I know is around when I use them. I feel like a kid who got to sneak some cookies while no one was looking. Like my second field trip to the golf course, I couldn't stop laughing & smiling. It just felt good. I felt like a 5 year old.

I promised a poem. This one is recent. I am going through my stuff [read junk] & I feel like I'm going through my life at the same time...

Go Through Me

Please
Go through me
Help me to step away
Further & further away
From stupid distractions
Clean out the cobwebs of my soul
Open all the doors,
Break all the seals of neglect
go through every single room
I want to be whole
fill in the holes in me, please
throw out
what I shouldn't keep
Be the foundation of this structure
...& the architect
Use Your plans to construct
It as You dreamed it to be.
I know I'll like it
Because You are my favorite artist.

a simple post about something I really like

I finally got to "blip" one of my all time favorite songs. Wind at My Back by Spock's Beard, from the concept album Snow. For those who might wonder what a "concept album" is, think of the disc [the 2 disc set, in this case] as a book. Each song is a chapter, telling a story across the album. In this one, the first concept album former lead singer Neal Morse, ever wrote. [his next 3 solo cd's would be concept albums. Testimony -Neal's conversion story set to music. One - the creation, fall, & redemption of mankind. And Question Mark, ? -for short, talking about the tabernacle/temple of God. 1 song -in 12 parts.]
Wind at my back appears at the end of both cds. First, as a song -outright. Second, as more of a poem/chorus... [italics are my favorite lines...]

Wind At My Back

How can you be
Like a sky stretched out before me
And the world is turning your way
Even darkness is better this way

Can it be true
That it all comes rushing from you
When my resistance is gone
And there's nothing that I can lean on

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

All of the above
I'll have the lot for my love
And as we're becoming somehow
As we're changing the future to now

I just want to live
In the place that you have to give
I'll let the heat beat me down
Until the water comes down

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

Yon're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the dream that's a fact
You're the wind at my back

You're the wish that I make
You're the prize I might take
You're the gold that is free
You're the groom on one knee

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

Wind At My Back [2nd version]

And you are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain, you're like rain
You're like rain now

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the gold that is free
You're the groom on one knee

You're the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

You're the flow that I feel
The illusion so real
You're the ocean the tide
You're the door open wide

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the gold that is free
You're the groom on one knee

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

You're the wish that I make
You're the prize I might take
You're the dream that's a fact
You're the wind at my back

You're the flow that I feel
The illusion so real
You're the ocean the tide
You're the door open wide

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

Well... I'll try to post a poem again, in the next few days. I've got quite a few, just didn't write them on my pc. [I've been journaling them more lately]

[photo is mine, from the neglected labirynth.]
...oh, & I'm on flickr now, in case you want to click over there...
...and I'm on borrowed time...
good night [to borrow from SNL:]
"good night, & have a pleasent tomorrow"

describing my need for Him....

I don't know why, but my life makes me love songs that paint God as someone I need so bad I can taste it. They paint a need for God, almost as an addiction. Two fav's in this category are: Hawkmoon 269 by U2 "...like coming home, & you don't know where you've been, like black coffee, like nicotine, I need your love..."
AND:
...a favorite song hidden on the end of Kevin Max's "Stereotype Be" cd. Words by Kevin Max Smith....

You are The One

I ran into your arms
like Moses parted water
I ran into your arms
like an angel to the father
I ran into your arms
like a soul that has departed
& you rescued me...

I fell down like the stars,
you pick me up so tenderly
And I fell down like the stars,
my wings made of clay
And I fell down like the stars,
you hold me up so all can see
And you rescued me,
oh yes

You,
You are the One
You are the One,
the only One
‘Cause You are,
You,
You are the One
You are the One,
You are my God

I stumble like a blind man
Destined to this earth I stray
I stumble like a blind man
No redemption
I stumble like a blind man
With eyes blacked out
& mouth of sand
And you rescued me,
oh come on

You,
You are the One
You are the One,
You are my God
‘Cause You are,
You,
You are the One
You are the One,
the only One

‘Cause you are,

You are
the sky that holds the rain
You are
my greater stave
You are
the drugs that kill the pain
You are everything, the teacher

I stand before your altar,
Falling strain of Abram’s son
I stand before your altar,
Like a lamb led to the slaughter

You,
You are the One
You are the One, the Only One
‘Cause You are
You,
You are the One
You are the One,
the only One
And You are
You,
You are the One
You are the One
You are my God
And you are
You, You are the One
You are the One,
the only One
‘Cause You are

You wanna call me when I’m wondering with doubt
You wanna call and tell me everything’s alright
I know it’s you and you see everything in me
I know it’s you, It’s you

You are the sky
that holds the rain
You are
my greater stave
You are
the drugs that kill my pain
You are
everything, the teacher

You are
the sky that holds the rain
You are
my greater stave
You are
the drugs that kill the pain

...there are so many...
they inspire me to write poems... but, sadly, I could write a thousand poems to Him... & still not get it right...

why I write... [& why so silent]

Well... it's been a bit long since the last post.
I'm still taking photos.
...still writing [journaling as of late]
working up the nerve to do things. Someone I meet with has asked me to dust off my guitar & play... anything. I'm trying to get the nerve to [hopefully before summer's end]. My fear? last time this person asked me to do something... my poems began to be published. [which was shortly before this blog was born]

this post is several "trains of thought" I'm trying to carefully piece together. If it doesn't work... please be graceful.

I went to a picnic this last Sun. The Noll reunion. My father is one of eight. The only one who had only one child. I have approx. twenty cousins. My life has these odd opposites in it. Big extended family, small immediate one. You may be tempted to ask: "what was that like?". I don't know. I've never had the chance to go back & do it differently. I'm only living this once. Though, I think at some point, I'll try to write my life out... to see if God can help me believe all this happened. My life... really is a true story. Like Sting writes, I don't understand it [& won't till it's last chapter is written]. -oh, the song is "The Book Of My Life" from Sacred Love.

A week ago Friday [first Friday], I had a wonderful time. My wife went along. And we got to be young lovers all over again. We talked & walked the streets of Lancaster. Talking of things I never say [too fearful to share. I'll share a post on fear sometime]. Afterward she said she'd like to go again, especially to photo ones. She recently said I should enter some into the York Fair. Maybe... maybe.

As this coming Sun. is Father's day, I am praying for John. [you may remember me mentioning his loss of his son] John has a blog now. Vision Over Visibility. Someone wrote to his son on there as a comment. I'd like to, but feel it's a bit silly or weird of me to do so.
...I'd like to here, though.

Ben
I so wish
that things were different
but
as silly as what I say has to be
can we work something out?
how about we enjoy your mom & dad for you
and you can enjoy
my cousin Heather...
my grandparents...
[Pappy & Grandma always had room for one more at the table, anyway]
the uncle I never met [sadly, he didn't live here much longer than you did]
and if you'd like someone to play with
...my nephews are there
can you play with them
till I get there?
[the good news is... I'll get to say hello. And I'll never have to say good-bye, ever again.
for where you are, dear Ben, good-bye is obsolete.]
Till we meet,
B

Guess I should get around to the title of this thing, huh?
When I'm silent, it isn't always a bad thing. I've recently [over the past year] realized that I get depressed sometimes when I don't get enough sunlight. And for the past [I won't embarrass myself with stating how many] number of years I've said: "next year I need to spend more of my summer outside." ...welcome to "next year". Some people who are depressed are given Lithium as an anti-depressant. [Now I'm not saying that this is enough of a dose for them, but..] The rays of the Sun at sunrise & at sunset give off a small amount of natural lithium. And generally all of us need some sunlight. So this is partly why I'm not online as much lately. As well as projects that have been neglected. And this month has been so busy I need a tour shirt printed up with all that I'm doing [just so I remember what happened in June.] I'll try to give ...better clues sooner on my silences. Because yes, sometimes I withdraw because of something being wrong. Often, when this is the case, words don't seem to come [in any form]. I comfort myself in these times with Romans 8:26. In which Paul speaks of The Spirit praying for us in a sort of "private language" between Him & The Father. In the Message, Peterson puts it as The Spirit weaving our "wordless sighs & groans into prayers". God alone knows, just how powerfully I need that sometimes. I am comforted to know He hears my wordless anguish. A friend once said of a dark time in their life: "to feel Jesus is closer than your skin".

why do I write?
I write
what I wish I could say
to someone's face
tell them I'm glad
they want to see me

I write
it's sometimes
my way of crying
I cry
in keystrokes
I bleed with words

I've been doing this for so long now
I cannot "not do it"
I can not share it
but I cannot stop writing
I need it
it's the way my fingers breathe
it's my soul's way of proving
that it's alive.

Wow... this is long... & it's late.
Be safe,
and if the way is dark right now...
run
into His arms
the arms of light...

A blog post from a video I wish I could post here.

This Sunday [for the second time] LW aired a video that is really powerful.

…it is so not worth trying to share it with you as a “script”. In a few days they’ll put up the Sunday morning talk on the website here. You can at least hear it. What follows is pieces of several written “things”, based on the statements she makes. Statements that many of us make about our worthiness of being loved/forgiven/cared for.

[her statements are written first, the bold parts are my responses]
“I don’t deserve your love”
“that’s not why I give it to you”
“…but, you can’t love this”
“watch me”
“…but, I’m broken…”
“…then I will love the pieces”
You don’t know what I’ve done…
But I know what He did
You don’t know where I’ve been
Thank God you left.
You don’t know what’s been done to me
“No. But I know what's been done for you...
…but if you must share it
While it may break my heart…
I …WILL listen to you tell me.
[and I will cry with you, so you don’t do it alone.
…and I will cry for you… if you can’t]

This video makes you cry. Because ...he doesn't give up. He has every right, every reason to... but... he... doesn't.
It is "so Jesus" it hurts. It hurts out loud.

It answers a Nickelback song. "say it for me, say it to me. And I'll leave this life behind me. say it, if it's worth savin' me..."

[for L.L.'s challenge]

i am

i am broken
...but still wanted
i am used
...but being repaired
i am
not as lost as I once was
...but more lost than I want to be
i am
still part of the story
[even though I'm not sure how]
i am
still healing
i am
still a friend
even though some may question why
-may even say I shouldn't be
i am learning to forgive
whether anyone likes it or not
[including me sometimes]
i am
bought "as is"
but not left as is
i am
changing
i am
learning to go left
i am
more than I thought I was
i am
happier now
than I used to be
i am
not ok
[but one day...
I'll be nothing but ok]
i am
a work in progress
i am
being restored
by The Artist
though I don't always feel worth it
He says
i am

Mulching [pt 2]

...so there you have it. My new stylin' deckish thing. It feels inviting [as apposed to tolerated, like before.] I'm pretty pleased with it [as you can tell]. A part of a "grander scheme", that I'm working toward.
Well, back to it then.

I'll leave you with another older poem.

Unique

Your touch

Your walk

Your fingerprint

Your voice

…are all unique

To you.

One may attempt to imitate it

But somehow can never copy

You, not completely

Not the way you

Think

Or speak

Not the way

You construct sentences

Link thoughts together

…or create art

No one can copy

The way you communicate

With the maker of all things

Why… then

Do we struggle

With who we are?

Why do we

[some of us, anyway]

Struggle

To let the real “me”

Come out & “play”?

To let the real me

Create?

“but they will laugh at me”

[at least you had guts to put yourself out there]

Maybe they will laugh…

…maybe their laughter

Is their way of hiding the tears

…of their own feelings

Of inadequacy

To hide the fact

That they are jealous

That you had the courage to try

And they… did not.

You gave it a shot

[and they did, squat]

You are unique

Each human

Is

A Sculpture of God.

“The Art of The Almighty”

Sadly…

[I know, because I am chief

Among those who are like this]

Sadly…

It is easy to say such things…

As long…

As I’m not…

Looking in a mirror.

But before you hang your head for me…

I have many…

Who just keep on saying

That I

Am art, too.

That I make art

That I am an artist

That I am unique

In a good way, too.

Slowly

I am feeling

Ok to be alive

Maybe I am an artist

[maybe…

He can use my art

… to save us both]

Mulching

so my mulching is finally done, thanks Dad [who doesn't read blogs, but oh well]. My Dad helped me finish it. Did my allergies bother me? ....let's just say "I've felt better". I tried to take a few pix, but they are all horrendously dark. We completely changed the back "patio area" [this is using the term in THE most loose way humanly possible]. I actually like it now. My Dad is freakishly good at stuff like that, & I'm... well, not. I am finally starting to feel better than I have in a while [why do I feel like a broken record saying this?] I felt lousy for the last week & over the holiday weekend [Sun. I went from bed to the couch & back, nice]. So another of my "summer projects" is done. Next up, storm door. I'll post some pix later on. I'm kind of being a bit "anti-social" lately. I have set some pretty heavy goals for this year. [actually, I'm kind of catching up on an accumulating list of them. Most are more than six years old! ugh. Let's say I'm trying to put procrastination off till tomorrow.]
So, if those of you who live round here don't see me in my usual capacity, it's temporary. As for the sparseness of my blogging... I'm unplugging a good bit lately. I need to... [perhaps recalibrate is a good way to put it]

another older poem..... [written at my uncle's cabin]

A Walk Through the Woods

I walk through
The woods today
…feeling like
A lost prince
…found by
His beloved King
I drink in
Every smell
Every sound
Every color
Every image
I walk
Through
The rough
Draft of a
Kingdom
Soon coming

The world has seemed
[the past 3 years]
Like it was
Wearing thin
-almost
“tired of itself”
But as You
Seem to keep
Doing to [with?] me
It is always
The most dry
…just before it rains
It felt like
It was raining
All the time
-it still does
…but now
It is a different kind of rain
Cleansing
Clearing
Refreshing
Painting
-in new vivid colors
All that I see
All that I smell
Dark…
Is not as dark
Desperate…
Is less hopeless
Hope…
Oddly blooms
Like a flower in the desert
My life isn’t
Different
Hasn’t changed
…but I have
I see that I can
Go back
To my
“Self made trap”
I…
Don’t…
Wanna
I…
Like it
Out here
…with You

By Brian N.

an old poem

Written a few years ago now, this was my answer to the question: Why do you write? [I may write a new ..."poem answer", sometime]

why I write to you

I’m trying to write to you
Because the silence is killing me
I’m trying to write to you
Because when I look at you …
You look back at me (in the face, in the eye)
Because when you look at me…
You make me think you care
think you care whether I live, or die
you look hurt when you look at me
and realize that I want to die
you look like you will listen to whatever I say
…and care about me anyway.
You look like you want to protect me
You look like you believe that I matter
You look at me & don’t run away
You look at me & you seem to cry when I bleed
When I hurt, you have tears
When I’m lonely & you see me, you come near
Sometimes you are what I fear
I know you want to help me
When I talk, you hear me
When I’m not well, you watch over me
When I hurt, your presence heals me
When I wish I could feel God hug me
He sends you

This is my answer
This is the why
This is…
Why I write to you
You are… the end of my silence
You are… the ear,
That hears
I am finding my voice
Because you bother to hear it

...I don't know if someone pointedly asked me why I write to them, but the thought popped into my head at some point. And that came out.

hope you enjoy...

Poems based on the word mask [& the challenge of “pretending to be something else”]

Masks

Collect them all

Tiny little

Fake lives

We hide behind

So no one

Really knows

Who we are

Are they safe?

Of course they are

…but

That

May very well be

What’s wrong with them

Masks

Challenge no one

They don’t offend

[& it wouldn’t matter

If they did]

Because

If you don’t like

This one

We can

Swap it out

For a more appealing one

But masks

Are

Dead

It’s pretty hard

To keep a lifeless thing

On something

Organic

Sooner

Or later

The real person

Shows up

Anyway

The longer

It takes

The scarier

The day

When the mask

Falls

Off

Masks [what you meant…maybe,

kinda, sorta]

I love it

That I am

What you

Grab

And take with you

When you go off

To spend time with Him

You smile

[& laugh @ yourself]

He does, too

I get to be

The “paint brush” you use

To have

“Conversations in art”

With

The Artist

You pick me up

And look toward the sky

Pushing my buttons

To capture a small fraction

Of what you see

Thanking Him

For His ability

To make

What you are

Looking at

I’m not new

[& neither are you]

We fit

[we’re both more than a bit worn]

We’re both “scratched”

A bit “dented”

Here ‘n there

But He doesn’t mind

And we belong to each other

When you grab me in your hand

I feel your excitement

….& I hear you singing in your head

Laughing & giddy

Like a little boy

Wondering

Where

He’ll lead us today

Wondering what

He’ll point out this time?

So glad I can be a connection

A tether from you to Him

musings @ breaktime

love the clouds today.
the folding, swirling, puffy, abstract art of God. Marching slowly across the sky. Right now intermittently "flicking" raindrops on my windshield. Shades of blue - gray, sharp whites with shadows. Ribbons of rainbows playing hide 'n seek among other dark & light shapes.....

turning titles into poems

I'm having a bit of trouble with my computer lately. However I thought I'd post a few newer poems. These are based on L.L. 's latest post title.

A Golden Chain

[first angle]

A golden chain
Poetry seems to me
A secret weapon
To set me free
A chance to say
Things that sometimes
Can’t be said
A chance to
Get
Some black thing
Out of my head
To put it down
Lay it down
Fold the book
& walk away
A chance to
Get it
Out of the way
So I can better live
This day.

A golden chain

[second angle]

A golden chain
To lock me
Away
To keep me
From this here day
Private thoughts
That shouldn’t be
Robbing me
Of any good
That could be
Why do I
Allow these thoughts
To chain me?
When I should
Give them
The boot…

well... it's my birthday too, yeah

...today is my birthday....
will you do something for me today? -consider it a gift to me that you do this.
Even though you may feel silly, or awkward doing it, please do it for me.
Ready? ...here it is:

today I want you to go look at yourself in the mirror
[preferably a full length one.... really look at yourself -for like 3 minutes]
oh... & this part is for the girls mostly,
don't just look at what's "too big or too small"
don't listen to the voices
that say your nothing at all
& realize.....
you are priceless.
you are a gift. you are a work of art, masterfully carved by The Artist.

love,
B

to continue reflecting on gifts, among other things...

My gift posts & poems haven't "come out" the way I first envisioned them to. But I will continue, on this with this post....[picking up from yesterday:]

...anyway, I know it's tough to see yourself as a gift sometimes. We are our own greatest enemies. As a video, created by a self-injurer, so powerfully put it: "Where do you go, to escape from yourself?"
While I cannot escape from myself, I'm learning [painfully slowly] that it isn't really so important what I'm running from.... as it is who I'm running to. I'm not perfect [I know someone who is...but I'm not Him]. I don't have all the answers [I'm not even sure I have all the right questions].... but I know who does have all the answers. And sometimes I lie on the floor & pound my fists into the dirt & beg & cry for the answers.....& sometimes.... I'm afraid He might actually give them to me [afraid that getting the answer won't make me feel any better...or fix anything]. The answer I really need, the stuff I really need to know & cling to is:
I'm loved.
I'm loved by THE somebody.
[& He's not the only one...]
I've written this, this way, partly because I suspect I'm not the only one who needs to read it just that way. In the First person, singular.
I WAS going to go to a concert tomorrow. [tomorrow being my birthday]
I'm not going. I'm VERY mad that I'm not going [at least, as of this writing I'm not.. I'm very "wishy washy" about it at this point]....but not for the reason you'd expect.
I'm mad at ME. I waited till this last week to even ask anybody if they wanted to go.
I just "assumed" [& we all know what happens when you assume don't we?] that
"no one would want to go with me to this."
I emailed some friends about going.... not one of them said:
#1 "No, I'm not interested. Why would you ask me?"
#2 "I really HATE Jazz, Brian -sorry."
#3 "I'm sorry, I just don't like him"
Nope. Not one person said any of those things.... but I planned this as if they had. How cruel.
As a matter of fact. My answers were: "Sorry, I'd love to, but I'm really crazy busy right now"
"I think we'll pass this time, but thanks for asking us."
"I'd love to go to see him with you, maybe next time I can go along."

Why do I do this? I essentially gagged them & made up my own answer. ...which makes me wonder.... do I do this to God, too??

[tomorrow I'll try make my last post on this. It's just a little favor...]

The Anatomy of a Gift

The Anatomy of a Gift [or how I see humans, the appreciation of my friends]
As I have said [probably too many times now] Humans are The Sculptures of God.
Your clothes, glasses, jewelry, hair color [if you die it, anyway], tattoos, etc. are the wrapping paper. Your body is the box... but your soul is the gift. It is the essence of you. I look at my friends, my family, my wife... as someone who goes to a gallery looks at photos, paintings, & sculptures. I'm thankful for my friends. [& my family. I've known a lot of people who's families suck. I am blessed, believe me. My life would have been so much worse...& probably a whole lot shorter, if it were not for family.]
I'm thankful for all of my gifts. You may not believe it... but you are a gift.
[& now, "gift poems" 2 of 3]

A poem to my gifts….

You have no clue
Do you?
How very significant
You are.
How you are
The very physical
Tangible
Hug of Yahweh
Just by walking by
Saying “hi”
Your message
Your email
Never liked
Being followed
Till
A couple of you
“twittered”
That you were
And
It just meant
I’m not alone
What happens
To me matters
Thanks,
Seems
Like such a small word
For it
…
I’m so glad
That God made
Each of you
Not only that
But He is actually willing
To share you all with me
You are art
You rival
The sky
The grand canyon
In all it’s spender
Is not as wonderful
As each of you.
One day
I hope
He pulls back the veil
And lets you
See you
As I do
Only then
Will
You understand
Why
I love you
Thanks for
Loving me, too…

So…
Once again
It’s my birthday
…but
I’m not waiting
To see what I “get”
I have
A priceless gift
You…
[all I want is you]

The best friends…

When you’ve come unglued,
You’re insides have all been spewed
You’ve exploded,
& your heart lies in a million pieces
They walk in…
They are the only ones
who dare….
They dare to care
“here’s a piece”, one will say
“I found one, too”, not far away
They gather all the pieces
of your once whole soul
Then they kneel before Him
& this is what they’ll say
“Daddy,
… he’s broken
… please…. fix him”

By brian n.
[written several years ago]

you are a gift,
you matter,
don't forget...

I'll explain later...

a poem, about gifts. I'm working on something rather lengthy right now. [oh...yeah, I am feeling more "me". My stomach is settling, I have 3 days left till the pills are gone!]

Real Gifts

Birthdays

And Christmas

I get gifts

On these days

I must make a list

Of “what I want”

So I might receive

Some of these things

Books

Music

Art

Tools to fix things

Things that need tools

Just to put them together

Out for dinner

Perhaps a movie

A long walk

A fruitful talk

A scenic view

Enjoyed by few

But…

Lately…

I can’t seem to make

Long lists

Like I used to

…

Truth is

You can’t buy

What I want

They don’t sell it

That’s ok

…I couldn’t afford it anyway

The things I’ll get

Nice as they will be

[cannot add up, to you & me]

They are “post it” notes

As far as I can see

Reminders

That you love me

Sometimes

I cannot imagine

Why

…but I cannot

Imagine

Living

Without it

You will ask me again

This year

[and soon, now, I know]

“What do you want

For your birthday?”

Really

Honestly

I know it’s hard

For you to believe

I know

You don’t think it’s much

But

All

I want

Is you

by brian n.

A movie I must see

ok... that didn't go as planned [A movie I must see]

I saw this trailer [previous post] when I went to see Seven Pounds.
Don't know why, but I'm going to see this next Sat. afternoon.....
I just kind of love stories where someone is found....
Someone who seems marginalized or "thrown away" by the world [maybe overlooked is less harsh].
I think my favorite line is when Robert Downy Jr says:
"being his friend..... will carry you home."
[& I love the 2 songs. This trailer's classical one -don't know the title or composer. & the TV spot with "Human" by The Killers]
Went to my favorite bookstore on Fri. before my allergy appointment [thankfully it was "on the way"] & Hearts & Minds has the book of this movie! [why am I surprised? They always have cool stuff.]

....as you can see, I'm all over the place lately. my emotions seem like the weather, "if you don't like 'em wait fifteen minutes". [which is code for please bear with me]
today I'm stepping down to 2 pills a day!!! which hopefully means my stomach will feel better.
I need to get back to my usual "hang with Him routine" now....
enjoy the trailer.

a few darker poems....

As I sat trying to make a message from a twitter/blog post from twloha for [of all things] a twitter to Hugh Jackman [yeah, the movie star one... I have completely lost it]
I also am thinking over a conversation from Wed. night.
and listening to "Born" by Over the Rhine......

to make a sound

you don't know
how hard it is
to speak
do you?
the thoughts
that run
though
someone's head
afraid
of how
you'll be
if the silence
is broken
sorry
to have
such
painful
violent
memories

You don't know
what it's like
to live through
something
only to realize
...you wish
you hadn't.

You don't realize
how healing
it can be
to speak
...& be heard.
still cared for...
still wanted...
still accepted...
to have someone
sit
in the ugly darkness
refusing
to leave you there

But once someone does
He can show up
in such a way
suddenly
He
has hands
feet
arms His love
transferred
through
the care of another soul
suddenly
even when sickness
sadness
darkness
returns
it is uncomfortable
.....not me
anymore....


can't say: "yes"

I cannot
just give up
& die.
not that I haven't wanted to...
I just can't
I can say it
I can believe it
but I cannot bring it
into my story
like a
pc filter
that kicks
you out of a place
you shouldn't be in
I am "locked out"
of giving up.

Strange,
I spent
far too much time
"right outside the door"
"let me die!!!
"No"
came the thunderous whisper
a secret voice
I cannot
disobey
[or stand against]
so I sat
camped outside a door
I have no place opening

...seems strange now,
to remember that time
even as illness
depresses me
today.....
it's different
I can enter depression
but it cannot stay with me
it can't keep up
...though
it tries to come
between me
and my friends
it is too weak now
my friends
too strong
too close
[perhaps too prayerful]
like bouncers
they stand between us
and echo
the whispered "NO"
"you can't be here....
leave..."

my friends
are a true
and strong
gift.

Sorry I'm a bit darker here. I probably shouldn't post these. But for now I'll leave them up...
soldiers to stand watch....
to remind me of Jamie's blog ending [& now a shirt]
"Wake up
your alive
we're on your side"
B

If I owned a radiostation [& still not feeling well]

Well, my med.'s have me all over the place. [don't feel well, physically... or emotionally really. It stinks, out loud.] But, I'm still trying to do new things.... in that vein, I now have a "make-shift" radio on the bottom of this blog. [hope you can listen too, if you'd like. I'm "just getting my feet wet" in it. Chick won't have a singer with him, that I know of, but it's one of my fav.'s]
Don't know if I'll actually post [twitter/facebook/email] much over the next few days.
Sadly, I'm quite miserable.
And music is the only drug I love taking....
Good night, sleep well [dream big]
B

...ok, said I'd update everywhere

I'm trying to "make good" here....
So, I went to see the ENT today [I know, it's after 12 am, so yesterday].
I don't need surgery. I will be on Prednisone for a week or so. He said that I have the "beginnings" of a polyp on the left side, but it's early enough that this should help to fix everything. Don't have to go for another 6 months. I'm glad to be [or seem to be] through the worst of my allergies. Though, I have been full of energy one day [or hour], & wiped out the next. We did discuss that I should get the allergy shots. Not fun [have I mentioned my love of needles? {add sarcasm}] I'm relieved that I won't need surgery. I have my vacation time back [to use completely as I choose]. I have projects that need done around the house, so I'll have more time for them.
I was dreading a "round 2" of needing help [something I am horrid at asking for], & the last time I woke up [from surgery -"post op"] was jarring -to say the least. I like knowing: how I got where I am/ who all is near me/ where my exit is/ knowing that I won't have to use Cnctema to get to the exit [wherever it is]. ...Why? let's just say [for now] that my childhood wasn't dull. [oh, & for a somewhat brief knowledge of Cnctema, click here, or here. Mikhail Ryabko's best student is: Vladimir Vasiliev one of who's best students is Steven Bentz... who at one time, said the same of me. This is probably all I'll say about martial arts for a while. Though I believe Systema -as it is spelled in English- has taught me a lot about my creator. Which is where I'll bother picking up if I ever talk about it again.]
Well, that was a rabbit trail & a half.
So anyway, I should go for now... this post feels very "disjointed" & like some sort of train wreck between a facebook post & 2 blog posts that don't go together.
So I'll get "back to sanity" [& poems] now....