The latest challenge from L.L. [well, ok poems wise, anyway]
"if words were..."
A Love of Language
how odd it is
that I love language
so
when
sometimes
I seem so
"self quarantining"
from it's use
walling myself
away
from
those
who would
encourage
those who would
protect me
from my
own
dark words
...but
thank God
for journaling,
for poem challenges,
for friends
to share poems with,
who care
about me
the writer
of such oddities
Thank God
for a chance
to use words
as keys
to unlock
and open
the mystery
of me.
...oh
if words were
chocolate
they'd have to be
dark chocolate
rich
and sweet
some melt
in your mouth
and bring a smile
to your lips
caress the taste buds
making you long for more
of this
delicacy...
if words were
wine
to lift
to your lips
to sniff
the aroma
they purvey
to sip, tenderly
to swish around
in your mind
to ponder the painting
they evoke
to ingest them
hoping, praying they will
help to
challenge
to change
you deep in your soul
to make you different
than you were
before....
if words were
an ocean
[& they sometimes are]
washing over me
with all their power,
all their adventure,
all their daring,
yet lying with them
as they are absorbed
into the skin of my soul
to linger in them
to enjoy
the way
they effortlessly
reintroduce me
to a good friend
the way they connect me
to a community
of souls
encouraging me to use them
as wings
to soar up, out, away
from what
gets in my way
to free me
from the junk
brought to me
by my day
Words help me so much. Journaling, blogging, emailing, even "facebooking" seem to help me "let it out" & let others in. Sometimes simultaneously. I'm "more glad tonight" than usual. Today shouldn't bother me, but it did. My poor neighbor, trying to be nice by waiting for me to park my car, is slighted by my poor reaction to it. I cannot even be helped out of this lousy feeling.... at least not till I quickly "run" into the house, up stairs to my music.... which is why I'm listening to Miles Davis. For some odd reason, this is soothing to my soul tonight. Music & words. Tonight, I'm thankful for both. I'm fine, now. Calmed down from my "spaz" of earlier. Even Cnctema [the martial art I took for years] tells me, woven all through it, to be calm. You hurt yourself & others far less if you stop resisting, & being so stiff. Which leads me to thoughts of God...... is He trying to "move me" & I'm resisting? Is He simply trying to say "hey, chill out"?
As for the posts on dreams from High callings & Co. My dream seems to be more in the hands of others right now. A dream of a permenant "Sacred Space" or Labyrinth. A hybrid of Sacred space...& healing space. A place, a space to try art "on for size". A place to "hang with the Almighty". A place to learn to "live into your skin". This year is many things for me. Being comfortable in & living into my skin is one of them. I didn't die of mortal embarrassment on putting my real name to the Grace found me poem. [featured in INKLINGS] Nor did I have problems with having a picture on the cover. [though, I DO feel like I'm bragging to mention & link to it. But I want to brag about the others who are in there, & deAnn's wonderful way of putting them together. Check out the whole "issue" it's really good!]
On another blog, a very wonderful talk about being naked [though, not the porno idea of it that naturally comes to mind in a culture such as ours]. Naked in a healing sense. In a sharing sense. To recognize the shame we often feel. The difficult way of being real about our struggles. On Stuff Christians Like [which, usually does a nice job with comedy] Jon writes some serious questions. He'd love the stuff I wrote in the Labyrinth on one of my visits. About 3 pages of questions, fears... painfully honest fears & questions. And a "God sized" challenge. [on what to do with them] I have begun [last night, yet again] to try to write about abuse. Largely, for the purpose of sharing a "color poem". My first red poem came out & I thought ....who could read this? To my suprise, the few who've read it like it. I won't say more on it. But if I post twice in a night... that may be why. I also thought, & hope to, write a post on the anatomy of a gift. And what my favorite gifts are. [i would share pictures of these gifts, but I don't have permission]
May His grace
drip from your fingers...
how odd it is
that I love language
so
when
sometimes
I seem so
"self quarantining"
from it's use
walling myself
away
from
those
who would
encourage
those who would
protect me
from my
own
dark words
...but
thank God
for journaling,
for poem challenges,
for friends
to share poems with,
who care
about me
the writer
of such oddities
Thank God
for a chance
to use words
as keys
to unlock
and open
the mystery
of me.
...oh
if words were
chocolate
they'd have to be
dark chocolate
rich
and sweet
some melt
in your mouth
and bring a smile
to your lips
caress the taste buds
making you long for more
of this
delicacy...
if words were
wine
to lift
to your lips
to sniff
the aroma
they purvey
to sip, tenderly
to swish around
in your mind
to ponder the painting
they evoke
to ingest them
hoping, praying they will
help to
challenge
to change
you deep in your soul
to make you different
than you were
before....
if words were
an ocean
[& they sometimes are]
washing over me
with all their power,
all their adventure,
all their daring,
yet lying with them
as they are absorbed
into the skin of my soul
to linger in them
to enjoy
the way
they effortlessly
reintroduce me
to a good friend
the way they connect me
to a community
of souls
encouraging me to use them
as wings
to soar up, out, away
from what
gets in my way
to free me
from the junk
brought to me
by my day
Words help me so much. Journaling, blogging, emailing, even "facebooking" seem to help me "let it out" & let others in. Sometimes simultaneously. I'm "more glad tonight" than usual. Today shouldn't bother me, but it did. My poor neighbor, trying to be nice by waiting for me to park my car, is slighted by my poor reaction to it. I cannot even be helped out of this lousy feeling.... at least not till I quickly "run" into the house, up stairs to my music.... which is why I'm listening to Miles Davis. For some odd reason, this is soothing to my soul tonight. Music & words. Tonight, I'm thankful for both. I'm fine, now. Calmed down from my "spaz" of earlier. Even Cnctema [the martial art I took for years] tells me, woven all through it, to be calm. You hurt yourself & others far less if you stop resisting, & being so stiff. Which leads me to thoughts of God...... is He trying to "move me" & I'm resisting? Is He simply trying to say "hey, chill out"?
As for the posts on dreams from High callings & Co. My dream seems to be more in the hands of others right now. A dream of a permenant "Sacred Space" or Labyrinth. A hybrid of Sacred space...& healing space. A place, a space to try art "on for size". A place to "hang with the Almighty". A place to learn to "live into your skin". This year is many things for me. Being comfortable in & living into my skin is one of them. I didn't die of mortal embarrassment on putting my real name to the Grace found me poem. [featured in INKLINGS] Nor did I have problems with having a picture on the cover. [though, I DO feel like I'm bragging to mention & link to it. But I want to brag about the others who are in there, & deAnn's wonderful way of putting them together. Check out the whole "issue" it's really good!]
On another blog, a very wonderful talk about being naked [though, not the porno idea of it that naturally comes to mind in a culture such as ours]. Naked in a healing sense. In a sharing sense. To recognize the shame we often feel. The difficult way of being real about our struggles. On Stuff Christians Like [which, usually does a nice job with comedy] Jon writes some serious questions. He'd love the stuff I wrote in the Labyrinth on one of my visits. About 3 pages of questions, fears... painfully honest fears & questions. And a "God sized" challenge. [on what to do with them] I have begun [last night, yet again] to try to write about abuse. Largely, for the purpose of sharing a "color poem". My first red poem came out & I thought ....who could read this? To my suprise, the few who've read it like it. I won't say more on it. But if I post twice in a night... that may be why. I also thought, & hope to, write a post on the anatomy of a gift. And what my favorite gifts are. [i would share pictures of these gifts, but I don't have permission]
May His grace
drip from your fingers...
4 comments:
i really like reading what you wrote for "if words were".
i don't know any other name to call you except for brian, so i will call you brian until i find out otherwise...i hope that is ok.
nAncY, perfectly fine. Brian is my real name. I've gone by "B", as well. A friend wanted so badly to give me a nickname... "can I call you Bri?" "not if you expect me to answer". [it sounds like a disease, I feel like a disease somedays. No reminders, please. Or a cheese, oh yeah, that's French Brie. Which -to me- was like eating butter. If memory serves... I sampled a lot of different stuff in France]
For my full name, it's in INKLINGS this issue. [as well as several older posts] I really should change it... I just haven't.
brian ...
reading this, all of it, i experience your presence for real ... with all your truth laid before me as gift. your words find a home in me ... i nod ... i sigh.
Thanks Laure. You have quite a way with words yourself. I drink in what you write as well. It is a wonderful thing to marinate in the words of others. To be comforted, encouraged, & challenged by the kind words of others is such a gift.
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