Monday, July 27, 2009

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
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


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
Never quite automatic
We reach for each other
Through the static
Straining against the chains
That bind us
The barriers that
To keep us apart
We are a part
And yet pulled apart
I think we need some time
But for what I cannot say…

Saturday, July 25, 2009

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...]

Thursday, July 9, 2009


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]


I am
Do not realize
How they help me
To become
More diminished
A word
May be all it takes
It’s even unspoken,
Just a look will do
A lot
Of my diminishment
Is screamed
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”
Did not die
To watch this unfold
He died,
To fold it back up
Put it in His pocket
And walk away with it
And for all
“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
Will now be transformed into
Hope will be the prescription
God the Father
Becomes the Doctor…
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.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

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

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.