to be unreachable

I put up a post on annoying phone calls...here.
however... that makes me think about writing a poem...

unreachable
sometimes
it's so very nice
to be disconnected
unlatched
from this thing
called the internet
it's nice to walk
a path
instead of a superhighway
to power down
my techie stuff
& just walk off
into the wild
to get away from all
that I can
so that I can be with
him whom
I cannot escape

oh...
how I long
to get away with you
to walk along
a winding path
through
under
around
rocks
trees
streams
ponds
lakes
rivers
I long
to get lost
in the vastness
of you
to be in the presence of
the one who formed me
the one who keeps the universe
from fraying to pieces
the peace
the quiet
the tranquility
that my heart knows
when you are near
May I never be unreachable to you
for
if I am
I have sadly
chosen it
I will be
less than me
because of the choice

so make this bad, lonely choice
unreachable
[by choice]

by b.e. noll

untitled

So

Worship the ground
worship the sky
call the Earth “mother”
If you wish

…but it is the father
Of the created universe
Him I will worship
He set all this in motion
what else,
should I dare to wonder,
is lurking
in His workshop
what else is being created
on His workbench??
if I used my whole brain
could I fathom
what it was?
how it worked?
could I look at it & still function?

b.e.noll
[written on a lark from a poem I just read. I'll be back on in a week or so...]

untitled

this just came to me...while listening to peace on Earth, by U2....

[untitled]
I
myself
long for the day
when there are
cob webs
on tanks
that no longer work
when
the news of the day
is the death
of sin
and death
war
is told
"your job
has been phased out,
here's your pink slip"
families
can live together
fear
becomes
extinct
no one has to tell
the Devil
to go to Hell
because
we saw him
put there
the door slammed shut
and forever locked

...one day
not soon enough
my teary eyes
will see
that day
...the day
when we finally
get to say
literally
we got the Hell
outta here...

May His grace drip from your fingers,
b.e. noll

under the dust

I really got an image in my head from something said in a class I was in tonight. We've all heard the expression of "kicking up the dust". So, here is a poem, inspired by this small phrase from class tonight.

Under The Dust

what is
under the dust
not really
the best
parts of "us"
didn't see it
till I kicked at it
but now that I do
I'd rather hoped
it had rusted away
the past?
the present?
pushed in a corner
dented

choices

some mine
some

body else's

mistakes made
I hide
in the shade
grab my blade
to slay or trade
my broken pieces
which to keep?
which should be
put to sleep?
which
make me feel
like a creep?
yet
under the dust
some garbage lies
don't want it to be seen
not trying to be mean
yet I mean
what I say
when I tell you
I want
to sweep it away
don't let it
come out & play
not today
not tomorrow
throw it out
like dead flowers
cause if it doesn't
get thrown away
it'll get kicked up again
someday

by b.e. noll

May His grace drip from your fingers,
B

a sudden, & odd poem

A farewell letter

sorry I must go
sorry
that is
for you
this isn’t as sad
as I thought it would be
at least
not for me
I have a story
I have
a storyteller
I do not always like the way he tells my story
or the speed
at which
I get to read [see]
the story unfold
sometimes
I even try not to let
the pages turn
for fear
of loosing something
or fear
of gaining something
that isn’t as good
as I’d like it to be
yet
this changes nothing
I still must live
more loosely
with you
than I originally did
Why?
because
I
let you
set my boundaries
you
however
are not
the author
of my story
I
must do
whatever it takes
to remove
you
from
the place that
the author
is supposed
to be
please
forgive me
for ever putting you there
I know
my author can
it is my hope
that you can
as well

by b.e. noll

I wrote this poem, moments ago. Just so I don't make anyone uncomfortable [please don't ask why I feel the need to type this] this is a good-bye of sorts to a variety of persons, places, objects, routines, habits, thoughts, etc. These are both past, & present. Thus, somehow, this poem seems to be written... more to me, than by me.

May his grace drip from your fingers,
B

untitled need to write

[I don't know why this image grabs me of late]

As I travel
down this strange path
I wonder if the safest way
is shut
I wonder
if I've wondered too far off
as a song replays several of it's lines
hauntingly to me
questioning me
"what do you want?
what do you want?..."
dancing it's way around my head
have I burned a bridge?
is it the wrong one?
am I the one:
"...get your head out of the mud, baby.."
was written for?
is this You, asking?
am I in a zoo?
[is it of my own creation?]
are some of my thoughts
not thought out enough?
a man speaks on Sun.
he speaks my language
the language of music
the language of song
am I a song?
is my story/song a good one?
can you use it?
in our dance...
am I trying to lead?
or have I finally let you lead
or am I full of led?
it's from you
I wish to be fed
even if everyone else thinks
the things you use on me are wrong
I've never found you to make a mistake
[even though I've felt like one]
well...
while I'm dropping lines from a song
I want to be like the girl at the end
as long as the dreams I have are
written by you
in a "g clef" or just as a story
I really want my story
to be in harmony with your great story
my song to be in harmony
with your "theme of the cosmos"
[..& yeah, I "wanna dream out loud"...]

by b.e. noll
[with lyric lines borrowed from the U2 song: Zooropa]

For Matt

I want to post on last Sun. [it was very powerful]. I also want to post on Lent.
For now though, I will post on "this week". Today is my Father's birthday. No matter how old I am, I'm still his kid. We had a wonderful weekend of being together. Lunch on Sun., ENCOUNTER on Fri., & a move on Sat.
Sadly, my friend Matt lost his father on Monday morning.
My earliest memory, is of when my mother, lost her mother, to cancer. [36 years ago, Jan 2nd...I was 4] I remember coming to her, in her room. She couldn't even speak. So I did what I saw Dad do, I held her. When Dad came home, I told Mom I was going to get him. This was the beginning of our family's "group hugs". We just held each other, for quite a while.
My Mother has an old Bible. On the blank pages she has quotes written. Like...
"This book will keep you from sin, or sin will keep you from this book."
one of my favorites, is from after her mother died.
"Death is not the extinguishing of a flame, it is the turning off of the light, because the dawn has come."
so, hear is a poem, for Matt. [& it's ok if it takes you a while to read this poem &/or post]

to see you again

a new hole
in my life
you
absent
our last good-bye
to last longer
than I would ever plan
to ache
more than expected
I say good-bye
to the shell I once knew
knowing
all the while
the real you
is no longer in there

while I bear much pain
small comfort
that you no longer experience
what is so loud to me now
in your absence
your laugh
now caught
in my memory
I hide it
in my vault
in hopes of remembering it
till I experience
time
outside of time
with you

this
here, then
is our final
good-bye
I cry
I ache
I long
to see you
yet I know
that while this is
our final good-bye
I long for
our final
hello
in a land
beyond time

B.E. Noll

songs... always seem to help me through. so, here are a few...
my favorite Rich Mullins song. [we are not as Strong as we think we are]
Karen sung this at her husband's Father's funeral [she is lead singer of Over the Rhine, her husband is co-founder] Angel Band.
Amy Grant has 2 wonderful songs that have "nursed" me through some dark days:
Better than a Hallelujah
Somewhere Down the Road
My friend Donnie doesn't like this song...when I hear it, I always think of my sister-in-law losing her twins. U2 Walk On
Chris sang this last Sun. ...I love this song [& it's forecast to rain tomorrow]
Healing Rain by Micheal W. Smith

Yahweh,
please walk with Matt & his family tomorrow
surround them with your peace
grace, & unmeasurable, unfathomable,
indefatigable love
Thank you for sending
Jesu to die,
and yet return to life
so that death
can be put
on the endangered species list
thank you that one day
death will die
and no one will morn it's passing
thank you Yahweh
for making a land
where good-bye
is obsolete
thank you
for being you
& loving us.
please bless Matt & his family with sleep tonight
and through the coming days.
amen.