Wednesday, June 9, 2010

a poem for now...

I mentioned on facebook, that I would write a post on Anthropomorphism. All I can say is I'm working on it. Till then I thought I'd post a poem, since it's been way too long since I have put one up here...

What no one wants
[what everyone needs]

No one
wants to be
the leftover
No one wants the world to know
that they want
to be wanted
no one wants the world to know
that they’ve ever been
“unwantable”
we need to have someone tell us
show us
that we have value
truth is
every time we feel
unvalued
is an eternity
from blogs
to twitter
to facebook
to flickr
to what-ever-is-next
we need people to tell us
that we don’t just take up
space on this planet
I hear it online
on TV
in poems
in stories
in songs
for some that I’ve met,
“hung with”,
had deep conversations with,
the story
is indeed
in your eyes
but the story doesn’t have to be over
it certainly doesn’t have to end there
in the loneliness


it’s a big thing to ask
but my hope
in blogging
writing,
sharing,
photos,
stories,
or whatever else
is that
you don’t feel so alone
or quite so broken
mostly that even if you feel these things
from time to time
that you are not the only one
-like me-
you just think you are sometimes
[& you’re not as alone as you think…]
by B. E. Noll

I don't know if this fits, but I like this song...
If Everyone cared.

To add to the text from the video:
Jamie Tworkowski wanted to keep in touch with & encourage a girl who was addicted to pills, alcohol, & self injury. He wrote her story, & used the title for a myspace page.
not only did she keep in touch... others sent messages thanking him for bringing this into the light.
To Write Love on Her Arms is now a world wide movement. To raise awareness for self injury, depression, & suicide.
...oh, Renee Yohe [the girl] has been sober for about 3 years.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Person under construction...






well, there I go again, it's been a while since I posted. the above photos are also from my hike @ Ricketts Glen. I'm going through ...just about everything I possibly can. I finally took my inbox from 1300+ emails down to around 780 some. My eyes are tired. My Extra bed room [where I am when I'm online], is pretty clean. You can see the whole floor! ...guess I should confess, I'm a bit of a hoarder. My neighborhood is having a yard sale on Sat. So that will be my morning [sadly, no walk!] I'm cleaning off a rather large desk I'm going to get rid of [meaning less surface area to "just throw things on"] & "collecting contributions" for my yard sale. Or, as I emailed my Mom: "getting things ready to be 'permanently lent out". This means a considerable amount of time in my basement. I'm trying to create a space for exercise/relaxation/creativity. We'll see how that goes. My poor friends [especially Joe & Donnie] have heard me say "I'm going to do this this year" for... 5 - 10 years now -ouch! And 2 of my in-laws have been patiently waiting to help me "fix up" said basement for almost as long. I'm beginning to feel like the title of a Phish tune [the In-law Josie Wales].
Well, I should go. I'll try to post some more poems soon again...

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Yesterday was restful...

I wrote this on my walk yesterday...

I walked with God today

We walk along
the rain dampened path
water bubbling on tiny ponds
dropping
bending leaves

turning the leaves into symbols
trees, logs, & dirt
acting as congas
of all sizes
a symphony without end
as we walk
I talk
on & on
over & over
some of the same thoughts
using different words
trying to get you to spend time with me
not feeling you very strongly
until…

I finally run out of things to say
suddenly
I feel you
rush over me
all is right in the universe
time seems to “run aground”
we walk
silently together
through you landscape painting/ sculpture
I don’t want it to end
…and one day
it won’t


Tuesday, April 20, 2010

a restful Sat.



Sat. a group of us went to Ricketts Glen. I took 500+ pictures. These are just three of them. I need to take time & put some poems up. It is poetry month after all. I've been busy. ...not to mention distracted. So this'll have to do for now...

Thursday, April 8, 2010

a whim...

This Sun. LW will begin a series on identity called: "Who am I?".
I couldn't resist writing about it this way. I've written several versions of this...

Who am I?

a favorite color?
A favorite food?

A favorite band
when I’m in the mood?

A job?
a pension?
a person
who gives off tension?

a friend?
someone who’ll be there
till the end?

a villain?
Is that what you need?
[why pick me?
I’d rather not
“do that deed”]

What makes me
me?
does anyone
really see
the me
inside?
are they not looking?
am I not willing
to reveal
all the colors
that make up me?
am I afraid
for you to see
what’s really
inside of me?

Monday, April 5, 2010

untitled

Well... yesterday I spent the day with family. I want to write something grand & inpiring... Yet the words all ran away. So I'll leave you with a song & a poem...
Not the greatest Easter post you'll ever read...

Dwelling Place

by Kemper Crabb

His voice
is like
the breeze
off the mountain
that cools
the desert dweller
far below
and when I am
confused
and I can’t see my way through
Jesus speaks to me & I know
I can see the way to go
like the sun
rising through the trees
after a night
of darkness & despair
is a joy that comes
from keeping still before him
my Lord & God
and hearing
the word of the Lord
from the lips of
the living God

you
are
my
dwelling place
my hiding place
from the world

I Pick You
Good Friday
Easter
You picked me
you could have saved anything
anything you wanted
anything you created
you
chose
me
not eggs
not bunnies
not chocolate

you knew
that I just wanted
to be validated
someone to
“pick me”

you hung on the cross
and you said
“I love you…
is this loud enough?
I pick you”
then
on Easter
you walk out of the grave
[I guess if your gonna make all things new
death is as good a place as any
to start]
you walk out
cut hope loose
to run in the streets
then you turn to me
and ask:
“I picked you…
do you
pick
me?"

Friday, April 2, 2010

Beautiful Scandalous Night

I wanted to have a wonderful post for tonight. ...but what do I say? ...so I'll leave you with "my old standby" which would be more song lyrics, of course.

Beautiful Scandalous Night [from At the Foot of the Cross]
Go on up to the mountain of mercy
To the crimson perpetual tide
Kneel down on the shore
Be thirsty no more
Go under and be purified
Follow Christ to the holy mountain
Sinner sorry and wrecked by the fall
Cleanse your heart and your soul
In the fountain that flows
For you and for me and for all

At the wonderful, tragic, mysterious tree
On that beautiful, scandalous night you and me
Were atoned by His blood and forever washed white
On that beautiful, scandalous night

On the hillside, you will be delivered
At the foot of the cross justified
And your spirit restored
By the river that pours
From our blessed Savior's side


At the wonderful, tragic, mysterious tree
On that beautiful, scandalous night you and me
Were atoned by His blood and forever washed white
On that beautiful, scandalous night
On that beautiful, scandalous night

Realization
by Kemper Crabb

father Adam
don't you see what you have done?
you have given all your children
to the fire & to the ruin
and we're needing
and we're bleeding
and it's a hard fate
that's befallen our race
cold wind from Eden
blows across my face
and I'm yearning
to be back in the garden
back in the garden
again

Second Adam
now I see what you have done
through your dieing
through your rising
you've restored the fallen sons
for your giving
we are living
and though
I know you bruised your heel
when you crushed the serpent's head
still you pulled the fangs out of our hearts
giving spirit life instead
for your giving
we are living
your returning me
back to the garden
back to the garden
back to the garden,
again

of late I'm realizing
that the garden I'm desiring
is
you

Someone said to me, the other day, "why do we celebrate the death of Jesus?"
Good Friday. A man who was [his words] "an Agnostic flirting with Atheism". Said to me "know what this is?" stretched his arms out... "ah, no." "a [crappy] way to spend a Friday."
Lots of people wear crosses. Tattoos, piercings, rings, necklaces. Jesus, on a hill long ago, took a symbol of torture... & made it a symbol of hope, a symbol of forgiveness. The cross is God's price tag on you. That's how bad God wants to spend time with you. Like Linda on her blog said she saw in a second hand shop: "as found". God wants us so bad, he died to get us. The only real sad thing left to this story now is this: the only way I can't have God... is if I say I don't want him. The cross is him telling me how much he wants me. To borrow from a commercial: yeah, you're that important.
Celebrate may be the wrong word for today. I reflect... I stand, set, lie down on the floor... & just think: "this is the craziest, illogical, outlandish, most beautiful plan I have ever heard of in my life."
I've written it in so many ways...
The one man, who didn't do anything wrong... died for all the men, women, & children -who will never get it right. [at least, not on their own anyway]
Jesus died on a cross... to save the people ...who nailed him there.

God sent Moses, to deliver his people from Pharaoh,
Joshua, to help his people take the promised land,
...when it came to sin... God didn't "farm this out to a third party",
he did it himself. He didn't send someone... he came.

I cannot imagine how dark & long this night must have been to those who were there. I cannot imagine how this day played out in heaven. The darkest, most aching day of history. Or the next 2 days, really. It's not what the world does to you, it's what you allow God to do next, that counts.
When I think of my own life. I think of this day for Jesus. Jesus has been through it all. Shame, nakedness, abuse, abandonment, mocked, wrongfully accused... alone. So when I say no one understands... Jesus says, "I do". This way Jesus can enter whatever hell you & I find ourselves in.

...I think I'll stop for now. Easter is coming....