Lullabies and melodies composed around foreign scales, softly tumbling into unexpected progressions.
Stars shimmering, set into patterns too complicated for comprehension.
I'm sitting in the middle of a jar of fireflies, looking out.
Arches cut into architecture as deeply as possible, enough granite left to support, but as though the builder wanted to show as much of the heavens as possible.
Sleep on the left side, leave the sword hand free.
Firelight and torches flicker, casting ambiguous shadows onto the cobblestone courtyard.
I miss her so much.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
More randomness
Various things I have been writing about, excerpts if you will:
I watch as the day shift blames the night shift, the night shift blames the day. I listen as the elderly blame the young for poisoning morals, and the young blame for the elderly for breaking them in the first place. And I see the way the sunrise peels back the starry void. This really isn't about us at all, but I am not sure we grasp that.
People feel bored; people feel insignificant. Everyone but you seems special, and no one feels as weak as often as you. Everyone thinks their world should become a movie,because in the end, there will be a point to existence; A lesson learned, a passion pursued, a war won and a life remembered.
The information age has given us so much we never realized we needed. This instant accessibility, and instant anonymity, allows us to surround ourselves with the environment we wish to live in, and thereby become whatever we want. Myspace, lifejournal, blogspot. Everyone has a story that they feel is so important. Gossip rags we always find ourselves studying guiltily in the checkout, the way our TVs always find E! or VH1 sometime during the night. We want to know who's single again. We want to watch the trainwreck. We want to be a part of the inner circle of gossip and dirty secrets that makes us forget we aren't enjoying or experiencing this life.
This type of thinking seems to be a social virus, one that eats us from the inside out. I am sure you feel the same way about some politicians. Even after you know the, you still feel as though they are an empty character. A shell of a person, only offering up one side of a character which leaves as quickly as they arrive.
Every year, there is a day of changes. This day is always forgotten, until you realize it, and then, every year afterwards, it can't be ignored. It becomes anticipated, prepared for, and planned. It is a day of foreshadowing, and a day in which the gears that turn the cycle of our lives speed up in away we can't help but feel once we realize it's happening. A good writer, well they could tell you when this day was coming, why it was here and make you live it with them. But I can only tell you when mine comes. It is always in the autumn, or for the less prose-ious, the fall. It comes at the day when summer is gone, but you hadn't really noticed yet. it's not exactly colder, just noticeably not summer. It usually hits late afternoon on that day, when you look down the line of trees and see their shadows stretched out a bit longer than before. Long enough that you notice them now. Your stomach tenses from anticipation of a unknown origin, and you breathe in deeply to try to relax, and you smell something different in the air. It's crisper and lighter somehow, and you breath deep enough until the back of your throat begins to sting and your nostrils spasm. It's then that I realize I am feeling. This feeling of the foreshadowed, that something is coming, some change too large to ignored and something that will no doubt change you. And for me, it seems to come in the fall.
I watch as the day shift blames the night shift, the night shift blames the day. I listen as the elderly blame the young for poisoning morals, and the young blame for the elderly for breaking them in the first place. And I see the way the sunrise peels back the starry void. This really isn't about us at all, but I am not sure we grasp that.
People feel bored; people feel insignificant. Everyone but you seems special, and no one feels as weak as often as you. Everyone thinks their world should become a movie,because in the end, there will be a point to existence; A lesson learned, a passion pursued, a war won and a life remembered.
The information age has given us so much we never realized we needed. This instant accessibility, and instant anonymity, allows us to surround ourselves with the environment we wish to live in, and thereby become whatever we want. Myspace, lifejournal, blogspot. Everyone has a story that they feel is so important. Gossip rags we always find ourselves studying guiltily in the checkout, the way our TVs always find E! or VH1 sometime during the night. We want to know who's single again. We want to watch the trainwreck. We want to be a part of the inner circle of gossip and dirty secrets that makes us forget we aren't enjoying or experiencing this life.
This type of thinking seems to be a social virus, one that eats us from the inside out. I am sure you feel the same way about some politicians. Even after you know the, you still feel as though they are an empty character. A shell of a person, only offering up one side of a character which leaves as quickly as they arrive.
Every year, there is a day of changes. This day is always forgotten, until you realize it, and then, every year afterwards, it can't be ignored. It becomes anticipated, prepared for, and planned. It is a day of foreshadowing, and a day in which the gears that turn the cycle of our lives speed up in away we can't help but feel once we realize it's happening. A good writer, well they could tell you when this day was coming, why it was here and make you live it with them. But I can only tell you when mine comes. It is always in the autumn, or for the less prose-ious, the fall. It comes at the day when summer is gone, but you hadn't really noticed yet. it's not exactly colder, just noticeably not summer. It usually hits late afternoon on that day, when you look down the line of trees and see their shadows stretched out a bit longer than before. Long enough that you notice them now. Your stomach tenses from anticipation of a unknown origin, and you breathe in deeply to try to relax, and you smell something different in the air. It's crisper and lighter somehow, and you breath deep enough until the back of your throat begins to sting and your nostrils spasm. It's then that I realize I am feeling. This feeling of the foreshadowed, that something is coming, some change too large to ignored and something that will no doubt change you. And for me, it seems to come in the fall.
Just for you
Just for you
This is just for you babe, I am pretty sure you’ll read it. This time, it feels so much worse than before, because this time it’s for real. I am going to avoid saying too many words of comfort, right now, they just feel so self-serving. I haven’t been able to convince myself yet that I can give you that without trying to make you stay. I am upset that you made a mistake, trusting to focus on the lack of a guarantee rather than the presence of possibility. But if I wasn’t upset, then you’d know it doesn’t hurt me to lose you. You have to let me be hurt and lonely, and I have to do the same for you. Know that I am going to miss you deeply. Pray that we can be casual friends down the road. I love you.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Sonnet: Goodbye is the hardest word to write
My darling girl, we came so far as one
Now at the end, the bed begins to break
And joys we had begin to come undone.
To keep this up, we put so much at stake.
Throughout our time I always kept you close
So that the ache the world can bring would rest.
Apart, exposed to that which cuts the most,
That stab is by the hand that knows you best.
Will this end now, with views full of regret?
My love, I swear we had a cause to kiss.
The mirror keeps me wise lest I forget
Behind us lies so much we must not miss.
So let me go and leave an open door
To dreams where this will hurt us both no more.
Now at the end, the bed begins to break
And joys we had begin to come undone.
To keep this up, we put so much at stake.
Throughout our time I always kept you close
So that the ache the world can bring would rest.
Apart, exposed to that which cuts the most,
That stab is by the hand that knows you best.
Will this end now, with views full of regret?
My love, I swear we had a cause to kiss.
The mirror keeps me wise lest I forget
Behind us lies so much we must not miss.
So let me go and leave an open door
To dreams where this will hurt us both no more.
Sonnet: Stand for something
Stand! The triumph of the winter cold comes
To blanket the voices, who can still sing?
For these dry times we must hear the war drums
The awe of vict’ry will rise before spring.
Will a champ’ion rise to stand for the right?
Or the weight now too heavy to push through?
Forced now to move under cover of night,
The faces of friends become much more few.
Cold gray skies offered as free from the burn
Sunshine sent off, but we miss those clear days.
It’s for that bright sun we faithfully yearn,
The thief steals bread, the owner always pays.
We spin even faster, things, they crash down,
Our culture asunder, where is God now?
To blanket the voices, who can still sing?
For these dry times we must hear the war drums
The awe of vict’ry will rise before spring.
Will a champ’ion rise to stand for the right?
Or the weight now too heavy to push through?
Forced now to move under cover of night,
The faces of friends become much more few.
Cold gray skies offered as free from the burn
Sunshine sent off, but we miss those clear days.
It’s for that bright sun we faithfully yearn,
The thief steals bread, the owner always pays.
We spin even faster, things, they crash down,
Our culture asunder, where is God now?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Sweet dreams
To Jesus, to angels, be vices and lullabies
All sung ever sweet 'til dawn touches so lightly
But 'cross our dry eyes comes the unwelcomed morning
To rise from our dreams where we slept, never knowing.
All sung ever sweet 'til dawn touches so lightly
But 'cross our dry eyes comes the unwelcomed morning
To rise from our dreams where we slept, never knowing.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Contemplation vs Action
Like the passing glances of fated lovers who
Wonder as they walk beyond what they wish to have said
Over their shoulders forever faded, unknown
Lives apart yet intertwined, betwixt never known regret.
A whisper into the ear of those beloved to
Tumble gently from guilted lips and wafted by twilight breeze
The stars above shimmer regardless of slumber
Drifting away divulgences, betwixt never known response.
Wonder as they walk beyond what they wish to have said
Over their shoulders forever faded, unknown
Lives apart yet intertwined, betwixt never known regret.
A whisper into the ear of those beloved to
Tumble gently from guilted lips and wafted by twilight breeze
The stars above shimmer regardless of slumber
Drifting away divulgences, betwixt never known response.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Seasons
I watch the graceful arches of oak
Swaying in the still-uncertain breeze.
It's spring and so the birds and the sun and the bees are still welcome visitors.
Black bark melting into, meeting with green
The new only covers, never replaces.
This tumultuous cycle of season certainly plays with my emotions.
The beauty of spring is temporary fascination
The new before the new becomes the old.
Soon, you'll again watch when the leaves fall in their tight circles back to the below.
Underneath, what feels newly revealed feels empty
Underneath it was always there and you know.
You'll know this as you watch these leaves in fall, don't you forget that when the tears come.
Swaying in the still-uncertain breeze.
It's spring and so the birds and the sun and the bees are still welcome visitors.
Black bark melting into, meeting with green
The new only covers, never replaces.
This tumultuous cycle of season certainly plays with my emotions.
The beauty of spring is temporary fascination
The new before the new becomes the old.
Soon, you'll again watch when the leaves fall in their tight circles back to the below.
Underneath, what feels newly revealed feels empty
Underneath it was always there and you know.
You'll know this as you watch these leaves in fall, don't you forget that when the tears come.
Monday, April 02, 2007
I miss you.
It starts when you're not here
My hands rediscover my pockets as I walk.
Routine places that feel so new
Even my memories, you've changed them too.
My hands rediscover my pockets as I walk.
Routine places that feel so new
Even my memories, you've changed them too.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The Question.
If I let her go, I know I will never get over her completely, she will always be the one I wish I could have ended up with. But if I don’t let her go, then she will miss out on the one that will do that for her.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Moral Relativism
One thing I see as a major hinderance to our culture today is the rapidly increasing shift in moral relativism. What this means is simple. In general, a culture defines it's morals (i.e. principles of right and wrong) based upon what is normal, otherwise known as social norms. In my own opinion, I think people fail to realize this fact, that what society deems normal is becoming more and more desensitized and conditioned by a variety of sources. Society's views of what constitutes normal beliefs in this decade vary greatly from what constituted normal 40 years ago. I believe this shift is ongoing, it will continue to push exponentially forward until it encompasses nearly everything. In other words, everything will be viewed as a social norm, nothing will become taboo, and therefore morality as a whole will no longer have meaning. We will be a society of hedonists, seeking only to fulfill our most basic needs, de-evolving to once again rejoin the animal kingdom.
Monday, January 15, 2007
January
Sweet summer excitement exits so simplyAnd forgotten by January in so many hearts.
Wrapped so tightly in wool and by fireside
Excitement becomes anticipation of warmer days to come.
A chance for reflections when gazes meet flames
So serene and silent when touches fill senses.
Thoughts become smiles of shared memories
In the winter solace, finding peace and frozen air.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Drifting thoughts
Like roses drifting the turning tide
Always on the surface
Always nearby
Climbing up the grass and sand
Returning to the water
And to the sea
Red flowers coasting across the land
Make the ordinary wonderful
Keeping you close to me
Always on the surface
Always nearby
Climbing up the grass and sand
Returning to the water
And to the sea
Red flowers coasting across the land
Make the ordinary wonderful
Keeping you close to me
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
People make you who you are
There is an ancient Chinese belief that everyone who is destined to meet is connected by a tiny red thread, so small that we never notice it, yet so strong that it never becomes broken. But when you connect to one of these people, you'll know, and realize how incredibly complex life plays its hand. Take time to look back and follow the string with your mind, admiring the intricacy of circumstances and situations that led you into their arms.
There are some things in life which happen and seem to never make any sense at the time. People you love making decisions for themselves which break your heart and force you to close your eyes and know the person from that point on only through memories. But these people are the ones who when they persevere through, overcome their obstacles, and emerge from their dark places, smiling, well they are the ones that show you what being truly proud to know someone feels like.
You always worry the most about those you don’t understand.
If you ever start to feel like you don’t know who you are anymore, just sit down and split a pitcher of beer with someone who has been beside you for years, you’ll be surprised how quickly those feelings go away.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Monday morning
Love is becoming thought of as a personality flaw, the ability to give yourself up to another is a weakness, the act of allowing anyone to see you lonely is unacceptable.
I’d like to say I never turn my back on anything, but really, there are some scary things out there.
I’d like to say I never turn my back on anything, but really, there are some scary things out there.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Diary found
I found an old diary entry from the summer that I thought I would share:
I found myself doing something the other day I hadn’t done in so long. It was one of those things you forget that you forgot about. It was replaying conversations in my head. I quit doing it for a while, but I am not sure why, and now I remember that I used to do it all the time, just as I am now. Why does one person cause me to sit and recite silently an already issued dialogue? Am I planning the next day, trying to discover the person’s feelings, or simply doing it because it reminds me of her?
I found myself doing something the other day I hadn’t done in so long. It was one of those things you forget that you forgot about. It was replaying conversations in my head. I quit doing it for a while, but I am not sure why, and now I remember that I used to do it all the time, just as I am now. Why does one person cause me to sit and recite silently an already issued dialogue? Am I planning the next day, trying to discover the person’s feelings, or simply doing it because it reminds me of her?
Verses
Reactor Number 4 -a piece of my family heritage and a reminder of a tragic disaster.
Cold air, waiting for the sun to set, the candles near the flame lights the city’s streets ablaze. Can you hear all the birds cry though the sun should be shining from midday high? Lights out. The towns all sit in ruin now, the dead still sleep in thousands. The children show burns at birth, the damage done is still to come. Forget the names of neighbors you know, in days ahead they’ll be left behind. Kiss the lips of those you love, in days to come they’ll leave and never return.
Thought Control- The ones telling us who to be are only trying to entertain. But is that ok?
And now you’ve given away all your choice. You close your eyes and blindly obey, well that’s your choice. Welcome to today. We live through a voice, coming from a satellite array, do you still have your voice? Going up or coming down, it spins around, the changes remain. We’re on a wheel, set to a plane, soon never to rise or think again. All you’ll endure and all you’ve found truth in, I hope it keeps you around.
Sunglasses- Emotions are always a roller coaster when they're real.
You were always what I wanted, you were always too good for me. Though I loved the sun in your eyes, it was so blinding that I couldn’t see. I’m sorry for the tears you cried, the wet pools were formed over me. And I loved the sun in your eyes, even as they fell into a sea. Some may say they look to the sky as the night comes over the day. I love the sun in your eyes and how dark it will be if you go away.
Andrew- Perseverence coupled with an open mind do wonders for discovering truth.
Your mind questions everything you’ve ever been taught or told, and because of that you’ll have my trust. But there’s a point where you have to ask, what do you ignore to keep rebelled? I hope you’re not blinded by this, faith you try so hard to dispel. You always ask how I believe in something I still have yet to see, yet I am confident you’ll understand and I’ll believe in you until you do. How can you always push away the answer that you spend your time searching for? I want to have a reason, I want to have a point of breath beyond a fear of dying. If this alone is all you’d gain, a compassionate heart with hope throughout it, then you need to find a better way to argue that you would be better off without it.
Changes- Trying to fix problems we don't have just means we have two sets of problems tomorrow.
And the world will still spin, and you still won’t notice, down below other things hold your mind. As your eyes rise to the heavens and ashes rain all around, a winter solace from the change in season. The newly renewed beginning, ruins of former empires, they all will sit the same beneath a gray sky. When the charge gets issued, when the stands are made, who will be the ones determined to readjust?
Cold air, waiting for the sun to set, the candles near the flame lights the city’s streets ablaze. Can you hear all the birds cry though the sun should be shining from midday high? Lights out. The towns all sit in ruin now, the dead still sleep in thousands. The children show burns at birth, the damage done is still to come. Forget the names of neighbors you know, in days ahead they’ll be left behind. Kiss the lips of those you love, in days to come they’ll leave and never return.
Thought Control- The ones telling us who to be are only trying to entertain. But is that ok?
And now you’ve given away all your choice. You close your eyes and blindly obey, well that’s your choice. Welcome to today. We live through a voice, coming from a satellite array, do you still have your voice? Going up or coming down, it spins around, the changes remain. We’re on a wheel, set to a plane, soon never to rise or think again. All you’ll endure and all you’ve found truth in, I hope it keeps you around.
Sunglasses- Emotions are always a roller coaster when they're real.
You were always what I wanted, you were always too good for me. Though I loved the sun in your eyes, it was so blinding that I couldn’t see. I’m sorry for the tears you cried, the wet pools were formed over me. And I loved the sun in your eyes, even as they fell into a sea. Some may say they look to the sky as the night comes over the day. I love the sun in your eyes and how dark it will be if you go away.
Andrew- Perseverence coupled with an open mind do wonders for discovering truth.
Your mind questions everything you’ve ever been taught or told, and because of that you’ll have my trust. But there’s a point where you have to ask, what do you ignore to keep rebelled? I hope you’re not blinded by this, faith you try so hard to dispel. You always ask how I believe in something I still have yet to see, yet I am confident you’ll understand and I’ll believe in you until you do. How can you always push away the answer that you spend your time searching for? I want to have a reason, I want to have a point of breath beyond a fear of dying. If this alone is all you’d gain, a compassionate heart with hope throughout it, then you need to find a better way to argue that you would be better off without it.
Changes- Trying to fix problems we don't have just means we have two sets of problems tomorrow.
And the world will still spin, and you still won’t notice, down below other things hold your mind. As your eyes rise to the heavens and ashes rain all around, a winter solace from the change in season. The newly renewed beginning, ruins of former empires, they all will sit the same beneath a gray sky. When the charge gets issued, when the stands are made, who will be the ones determined to readjust?
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
The Fate of the Two Lovers
The man held the woman close to his chest and shut his eyes, forgetting the ceaseless rain of fire coming down upon them and attempted to ignore the crumbling earth at their feet. She pushed her face into his chest and clutched him tightly, feeling her hair being pulled by the ever-increasing wind as she pursed her lips tightly and tried to find a sense of calm in the chaos. The ground shook more and more violently, each tremor taking with it large chunks of bedrock downward, tumbling away into an unknown abyss of orange flame. Without warning, from inside the man, the pervasive, constant terror suddenly subsided and he opened his eyes, to see two brown eyes belonging to the woman meeting his gaze serenely from his chest. The deafening roars of their last moments thundered closer and closer to their remaining pedestal of stone, yet the two heard nothing now and no longer felt alarmed as their lips met. As the final wall of fire and molten rock crashed down upon them, their last view was of each other, mouths silently wording unheard amorous syllables as they too were taken into eternity.
Searching for perfection...
A smile that can always make the rainiest days seem sunny, the saddest stories full of hope, the wonderful moments truly irreplaceable.
Two eyes that appear to go on forever, hinting at the warmth of everything behind them, and reason why so many muses choose to inspire through a girl's eyes.
Lips so soft they make every word that passes through them sound like a lullaby.
A heart that knows when to laugh and when to cry, yet always places itself second.
Two eyes that appear to go on forever, hinting at the warmth of everything behind them, and reason why so many muses choose to inspire through a girl's eyes.
Lips so soft they make every word that passes through them sound like a lullaby.
A heart that knows when to laugh and when to cry, yet always places itself second.
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