Silence Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Silence

Why does the heart want
what it ought not want?

I know right from wrong.
I make the proper choices.
I turn away from the darkened path.
I walk in what is light
And yet

The heart pulls,
it drags,
it draws me farther,
and farther
toward what it ought not want

I ask God often,
“Take this desire away from me.
I want only what is in the light,
the right,
that which is created from Your might.”
But,
my prayer is met with silence

I don’t hope to fathom
the depths of the Almighty.

Psalm 42 mocks me
as it mocked its writer
“Why art thou cast down, O my soul?”
Where is my answer?
Why won’t this leave me?
Why does my heart want
what it ought not want?

Silence

Somewhere
in there,
sometime
I’ll see
in silence
rests an answer

Edit: Left in Draft status for sixth months…

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World Keeps Spinning Wednesday, April 30, 2014

I stare at this empty page
The cursor blinks at me
I plead the muse of inspiration
To look down amicably
Upon this Christian soldier’s eyes
That search for daily meaning
In her writing that she creates
Whose verbosity is careening
Out of control. The cursor blinks
With it’s evil grinning
And while the author waits and waits
This world just keeps on spinning.

I’ve not written anything worthwhile here in ages, though a million things have occurred in the last few months. First-job is not un-enjoyable and is moving in a good direction and I’ve got a few eggs dropped into the paths of my literary goals that are finally beginning to hatch.

We lost a church member just last week and her homegoing is this weekend, but I can’t remember the last time I was so uplifted by another soldier’s work. She brought up her family in God’s ways and was a faithful Christian to the very end. Every time I think of her and children, I can’t help praying, “Lord, that’s the kind of Christian I want to be. Help me get there.”

I had an epiphany with Anne this month; simply put, she was just too good. There was no stain upon her character, so I had to muddy her a bit, as even I was beginning to struggle to relate to her.

So, there. Lots of happenings, but nothing particularly notable in a blogging sense, hence the attempt at poetry. On I trek towards my lofty goals…

Hope and Pragmatism Saturday, June 29, 2013

I’ve read this book so many times.
I’m sick of it.
I read a line,
Stop a min.
Read a line
Stop a min.
No wonder its been years.
Sometimes
I stop a min
And I watch them
Box in front of me;
Hope and Pragmatism
Hope looks stronger, but
Pragmatism has
One heckuva right hook.
Hope sees the end is near.
Jab, jab, swing.
Pragmatism uses odds;
Round 1 ends against me.
Hope sees a literary life ahead.
Jab, dodge, left, step.
Pragmatism knows reality;
Right hook, one punch,
Done

A house? Thursday, February 2, 2012

For the first time in my life I considered that idea that I should be a homeowner. I actually started to look into what homes would be in my price range before I started to add some logic to it, but I can’t escape the fact that I actually thought about it.

I’ve been anti-house for a long time, but in recent months, I seem to be running out of space in my townhouse; and I really want a garage again. The living room isn’t large enough for all my stuff anymore and I would really like to have a decent sized kitchen again. I won’t be able to afford the kind of house I grew up in yet, but the idea of a little space that’s all my own is starting to sound more attractive than it ever did.

“Now is the time to buy” is all I ever hear nowadays and I’m wanting more than ever to feel like a “real” adult with a mortgage and a car note and all the other debt that the rest of America has. Now, feels like the time.

This idea faded a bit on the drive home, but it’s still there nagging at me as something to consider. That said, just a week ago, I almost dropped 1500 to buy a MacBook just because I wanted one, so I realize I just get caught up in the moment at times.

I had planned on getting more writing done today than I did.

I wrote 1003 words today (dinner with Angel and Anthony that evening.). As far as my writing goes, I’m starting to see what I used to attempt daily as not nearly enough any more. I used to pray daily for 500 words, but now when I see that all I wrote was 500 and I highlight it on the page, it looks like nothing and it’s no wonder that it’s taken me three years to write this book.

All this notwithstanding, I wrote a poem today; probably the first in about five years. It’s not truly “my” poem in the sense that I “was” my character Dana Barrington while writing it, but still, poetry is hard and I’m always lightly amused at the result when it’s done.

I wasn’t going to write any poems at all for this project, but I’ve got Damen and Dana discussing poetry in depth and it won’t feel right without at least one:

The story

How do I tell the story
to someone so young?
Should I lie
Should I weep?
Say nothing?
Keep it deep?

He’ll ask the question
I know it; soon
I’ll take time
I’ll get by
But can I look
In his eye?

How do I tell the story
to someone so young?
I’ll make it quick
We’ll feel our pain
But he’ll know he wasn’t
Born in vain.

I was inspired, and thus my character was inspired, for the poem after reading an Emily Dickinson (If I can stop one heart from breaking) and I don’t think much of it, but it’s done and now I can move on with the rest of the book, especially since I completed Chapter 24 tonight.

Trapped/Faith Thursday, September 15, 2011

Trapped

Light blue walls are grey
And within them, I am trapped.
“Business needs” outweigh my own,
Exits are blocked with no help on the way.
I am trapped. I am trapped.
I give my all; days in with no days out.
I smile and uplift, but none even see,
And still, I am trapped.
I must get out. Please God, help me!
I can’t stay. I can’t go on
And continue to be trapped.

…

As I sat at my desk tonight, thoroughly disgusted with everything that touches my life, I felt the slightest pangs of despair and went first to what I always reach when I feel myself reaching a precipice, thus the poem.

Shortly after writing it, and a cry of self-pity later, I brought out my bible to study, praying first for “help” from whatever I was to read tonight. As always, God delivers and the message I really needed to hear came from Matthew 14. Peter was fine while he kept his eyes on Jesus, but the moment he started to let worldly things (i.e., the fear of sinking) deter his thoughts, he started to sink. Jesus plucked up him and gave what I equate to a verbal sigh from his lack of faith.

I don’t know why I allow the little things to get to me; I suppose it’s the human way. What I enjoyed about this evening, however, is how I got to my lesson. I’ve long since turned to writing in times of stress because it seems that if I just write it out of me, I’ll be okay. Tonight, turning to my writing turned me to the bible and a reminder that it’s only when I take my eye off Jesus do the little things start to pile and bite at me all at once.

I wrote 1014 words tonight (what we all are thinking deep down) and I pray that I live to see a day when I turn to my faith first in times of strife instead of everything else.

A lot Friday, July 1, 2011

I had a lot to say about today.
I talked long with some friends and missed some others.
I feared the ticking of time.
I finished a lengthy book and was smarter for it.
I recognized a flaw in me.
I wrote 797 words in the entirety of today
(dismissed to the sanctuary).
I found myself in another one of those moods again.
And, now, I’ve nothing to say about today.

I want Friday, February 4, 2011

138 (drawing the gloomy, defeated expression he last saw in Brian’s eyes.)

I want to be in the mood to write today.
I want to be finished with Damen…right now.
I want to not be stuck on lackluster prose for days.
I want to get on with it.
I want to have time to think for five seconds without being interrupted.
I want to get married.
I want to have 2 boys and a girl.
I want to not worry about money.
I want to visit France and Japan and Antarctica.
I want to be able to clearly define myself.
I want to write more than 500 words each night.
I want the days to be longer.
I want to be comfortable.
I want to be happy.
I want…

Blejalgaeioagou Friday, December 17, 2010

I’m just so sick of it.

It’s days like these
when I feel so insignificant,
so tired,
so cold,
so bored,
so angry,
so useless,
I’m just not sure what else to do.
Not writing,
barely working,
not loving,
barely living.
How long can I go on like this?

How long?