Come Before Winter

The sun sinks beneath the horizon
and another day draws to an end
carrying its sorrows to its grave.
The sun makes his journey quicker,
every day, it seems shorter;
he does not wish to pause and watch
as the summer slips away.
It is autumn today, and yesterday,
and maybe it will stay awhile,
but time trickles through the nets
and cannot be caught.
So I am calling to you now,
while I still have breath,
that you would accompany me
as we answer the summons.
The master is pleading,
"Come, come now.
I bid you come, quickly and soon."
Will you go with me?
There is a task at hand,
and it must be done soon
before the fall ends and the chance is gone.
Go with me, friend, while there is time,
but if you won't come now,
I cannot wait.
I will leave at the sunrise.
Will you be with me,
or not?
I urge you,
do not miss your chance.
Time is running short,
and the master says,
"Come before winter."
Let us go, before the time is gone.

Sin Embargo, El Mundo Pasa

Espero para la mar cesar,
qué ser posible para me cruzar,
porqué no puedo caminar
sobre las olas,
hinchan y caen.
Una y otravez, repetidas veces
cobran y retiran en una danza incesante.

Mientras la mar teje la danza,
la galaxia se imita
con la gracia que no tropieza.
Las estrellas giran y piruetean,
bailan alrededor la luna.
Un niño nací, un anciano muere
y va juntar la danza.

En muerte,
en vida,
tragedía sucede,
pero no cesa la danza.
Qué será, será.
Suceda lo que sucediere.
Sin embargo, el mundo pasa.

Simple

Come and stay awhile with me.
We'll sit in the meadow,
watch the grass grow,
eavesdrop on whe wind
to learn what the trees know.
And in the evening,
if we're quiet and still,
we might hear the stars sing.

Let's observe the sunset,
moonrise, moonset,
and wait for the sun to reappear.
Hope the morning brings fair weather,
and if it rains, we will dance
and splash in the puddles,
turn our faces to the sky
and enjoy the downpour
while it lasts.

Stay with me 'til the sun
has circled us more times
than we could ever count.
Stay, and dance,
stay and sing,
and learn how to be still,
to laugh and to love.
We'll live 'til the world is gone.

Tags: Life, Simplicity, Beauty, Nature

Finally finished...

Hey everyone!  This is the first non-poetic entry to this journal so far.  Just for your information, I didn't write all these today!  These were written over a period of a year.  I'll continue to add poems and stories--and possibly some journaling--as it comes to me.

For those of you who don't know me, poetry is part of how I stay sane.  What you'll read in this blog is uneditted, unrefined.  Every poem and story is a first draft.  It might not always make sense--it's not really supposed to.  I'd like to be able to say that it came from some innate talent, but that would be a lie.  In reality, my writing is just the chaos in my head being sorted into something coherent. 

Anyways, keep checking back from time to time--I'll post as the inspiration hits me.

Reflections

I look in the mirror
and find myself
confused.
What's this?
A monster looking back!
The epitome of almost--
sorta--
kinda--
not-really-okay,
Oh! How much I lack.

Physically,
mentally,
spiritually too.
How terribly far
I've left to go...
And as I run,
I cover my flaws--
In vain!--
and they never cease to show.

Society shouts and screams--
YOU'RE WORTHLESS--
such horrid cries,
and all I hear.
But then,
You whisper
"beautiful, blessing"
and I know that you are near.

Help me reflect
Your beauty,
that the world may know you
through me.
And when they look,
Lord, I beg you!
hide my face.
May Yours be
ALL
they can see.

No One Greater

When the world was covered
In the darkness of night,
There was none greater
Than the Light.

When dry land was brought up
Out of the water,
None was greater
Than the Father.

When came the birth
Of fish and birds,
None was greater
Than the Word.

And then was Adam,
First of men,
And none was greater
Than Adam's friend.

Then came corruption
And a mighty flood,
And still, no one greater
Than the Lord Above.

When the prophets prayed--
Fire fell from the sky--
None was greater
Than El-Shaddai.

Two millenniums ago,
The Virgin gave birth,
And God, the mighty,
Was born to the Earth.

Then darkness fell,
And all seemed lost,
But still, none greater
Than the Lamb on the Cross.

Three days after,
He had died for my sin,
None was greater than He,
For He rose again.

When I'm overwhelmed
In this world of man,
None is greater than He
Who holds my hand.

Through death,
Through life,
Through eternal things,
Never will there be greater
Than Christ, my King.

Abandon Ship

You're in a ship on a troubled sea,
More commonly known as Life.
And the boat you're in is simply made
Of your feeble attempts to survive.
And like your vessel, your plans are tossed
By forces beyond your control.
And you've done your best to make it all look right.
Truth is, you've lost your soul.
Still you put on an act
To cover your pain,
Though more painful the facade.
You've made the world believe you,
But you're not fooling God.
Step out of your boat
To the Savior's arms--
He will not let you drown.
Jump now,
O wretched sailor!
Your ship is going down.

Imperfect

They act as if I were conceived

of the heavens

and not a woman

and a man

on this earth.

As if,

like some celestial being,

I could rise on wings

into the clouds

and stand before God

without shame.

As if I had never

never

never

faltered

or fallen

before now.

As if

my mistake

would

unravel

(heaven forbid)

the consistency of

their inconsistent existence.

This pedestal is too high,

and I am afraid

to turn about

and face the sun--

afraid that I might fall.

Why do they suppose me

to be flawless?

And why are they so

disparagingly

in awe of me?

Why do they marvel

that my lips are unstained

with the profane

and mundane

and uneducated language

that mars the beauty of words?

And why

do they gain such morbid delight

when I fumble

and falter

and totter a little closer

on the edge?

The pedestal is too high

and higher it grows.

I am afraid.

I am no angel,

I am not God.

I did not ask to be put here!

Once again

I breathe deep

and strain a bit more

to hold myself here.

Balanced in

this

precarious position

in the window

of my own, personalized,

impersonal

Tower of London.

Imprisoned

by expectations too great.

The pedestal is too high,

and the wind blows cold,

and I have long ago left

the shelter of obscurity.

I wait now for my escape to arrive

on soiled

blackened

raven's wings.

But for now I cannot leave.

So I stand atop this ever-growing precipice

And hope for a flaw to pass my way

that I might latch on

and be lifted from this captivity,

freed from this restraining image of perfection,

no longer to be the fallen angel.

Simple Joy

Loud rumble of my daddy's voice

rattles me from my slumber

as I open my eyes

to the still-sunless sky

that lies beyond my window.

 

Gentle murmur in the bedroom next door

as a small child turns in her sleep--

baby sister,

but baby no longer,

snuggling deeper under rustling blankets

to find the quiet warmth.

 

Joyful serenade--

performance by a cheerful robin

perched on trembling branch outside,

as the wind in the trees

sings perfect harmony

and the earth's throbbing heartbeat keeps time.

 

Laughter and giggles,

teenage girls sharing secrets

whispers and sighs and dreams...

raucous boys with their voracity for life,

shouting and posturing,

gallant peacocks,

hopes to catch someone's eye.

 

Soft strains on a piano,

warm melodies from the trumpet,

gliding clarinet,

sweetly soaring flute,

gently strum the guitar strings,

wake the hymn and give it life,

as the congregation warbles every note...

Amazing Grace...

such a sweet, sweet sound.

 

Noise so beautiful,

the color in my life.

A world without music,

how would I survive?

And how will she survive--

she who has no ears to hear?

Deprived of simple joy,

as we add to the racket

and complain that it's too loud,

and forget that some

have never heard.

Golden

rags to riches--

HE EARNED HIS WEALTH

(I won't say how)

he worked

and tried

and struggled

and strived

and achieved.

THE AMERICAN DREAM.

all for her.

the one from five years of yesterday.

vapid damsel,

melodramatically murmuring

again and again and again

as if it were the only thing to occupy

that empty

airy

beautiful head.

"rich girls don't marry poor boys.

they don't marry poor boys.

I can't marry a poor boy.

can't marry you."

poor?

he?

not so.

MONEY ISN'T EVERYTHING.

he is everything.

he is the dreamer

the innocent

the beautiful hopeful,

hopelessly romantic,

doomed to destruction

because he's not ready

to let go

of his dream.

can't let go

of his hope.

can't let go of her.

sail away to the horizon

and dream.

Writer's Block

These days,

I struggle

and stammer

and search for the words

to say what I feel.

But the words don't come.

 

These days,

my oldest and dearest friend--

my art,

my creativity,

my song--

it has left me

and I am all alone

while the words don't come.

 

These days,

I flounder about

in a sea of

inarticulation,

wishing for a raft

of inspiration

as I sink into

such desperation,

for I feel that

my gift is gone

because the words don't come.

 

I scrawl these lines

on a tattered page

over the remnants

of a thousand poems

once started

and then erased

as the flash of light disappeared

around the corner

of a writer’s block.

And still the words don't come.

Invisible

Don't mind me.

I'm the one you can't see,

the one you don't know--

you've never really known--

and you never will.

Maybe you're missing out on something.

Something special.

Something about me

that you just might love--

and fall in love with--

if only you noticed.

And then again,

maybe there's nothing at all.

It would fulfill my deepest dream,

my longing,

my craving,

for you to take me in your arms.

Clasp my hand in yours,

look to me tenderly,

notice the fairer features of my face.

That is my wish.

I shall nothave it.

Nonetheless,

I should be immensely happy

if only you would take notice--

greet me

before I greet you--

without my having to stand before you

wave my hand in front of your face

and make enough of a spectacle

for you to bring your head out of the clouds.

Say hello.

A nod of recognition, even!

It would be enough.

We are friends,

after all.

Nothing more,

never more,

but friends all the same.

But it shall not happen,

it cannot happen.

Woe to me,

it is impossible.

For who could ever notice me?

I'm invisible.

Wishing Well

He wanted the moon.
He wanted the stars.
He wanted romance,
adventure,
bliss.

I only wanted him.

He wanted a friend.
He wanted a fan.
He wanted a companion,
arms to encircle,
a hand to hold.

I only wanted him.

He wanted the brightest.
He wanted the loveliest.
He wanted the best,
the utmost,
perfection.

I only wanted him.

He wanted to talk,
wanted me to sit down.
And there,
with wind and trees gathered 'round,
he told me he wanted
much more than I was,
more than I am,
or ever could be.

I wanted his time,
he wanted his space.
I wanted him to care,
he wanted a prettier face.
I wanted him to hold me,
he was ready to let go.
I wasn't ready to lose him,
I loved him so much.

He would never know.

He wanted to be happy.
He wanted to be "free"
(And by free, he meant
free from me--
as if I'd taken him captive

and held him a slave!)

He wanted his life
to be the perfect novel.
And he wanted to write the book.
A book
with no me
on its pages.

He got what he wanted.
My wishes are still in the Well.

Tragedy

I used to have a dream.

I used to want to live in a fairy tale

with a happily-ever-after

perfect ending.

In my dreams,

I was the princess.

Guess who the prince was?

Yeah, him.

I sat in the dust

playing with my words

trying to tune out

the gnawing

aching

loneliness.

Then he came along

and saw through the filth on my face.

Plucked me from the mud

and made me beautiful.

Made me perfect.

Fairy-tale perfect.

Happily-ever-after perfect.

And he led me along the path

to that shining ending.

That's where he dumped me

in the festering sludge

after dragging me along so far.

Dumped

so he could run off--

not with a princess,

not to adventure,

not to learn the mysteries of the world.

Ran off with his ego, he did.

Arrogant fool.

Not him.

Me.

Arrogant to think

he could love me.

Arrogant and foolish,

so naive indeed.

Foolish country bumpkin

playing the princess's role.

I played the part,

now I pay the toll.

Tax on my heart

and charge on my pride

to watch him away

to another's side.

Wonders pondered,

lesson learned.

There's no such thing as

happily ever after.

A Little Hope

You think you've disguised the pain

But you forget

Every mask has a hole for the eyes.

You turn away

Thinking nobody sees

But you're being watched while you cry.

 

All alone

In a room full of people.

No sort of acceptance

Under a crowded steeple.

No one to turn to.

No place to go to.

No conceivable point in it all.

I’ve been there.

 

The urge to run, tremblingly strong

Meets the prideful command

To stand your ground.

Torn by fear and dignity

Every soldier’s dilemma

Can’t get the answer by looking around.

 

Stand with the army

But fight by yourself.

Wield your weapon,

Or place it on the shelf?

To struggle and stumble?

To run, just to fall?

No sense in the battle.

I’ve been there.

 

Inferior! they shout.

Not good enough.

Inferior, unwanted.

Too plain.

Whatever might impress

Pales in comparison.

It’s enough to drive you insane.

I’ve been there.

 

Fear.

Loneliness.

Struggle.

Pain.

Heartache.

I’ve been through it all.

And I survived.

So why not you?

This is Goodbye

oh hello to you there.
do I know your name?
forgive me for forgetting.
such a poetic name
to match the strong face
of a romantic
with a warrior's facade.
I could love you,
you know.

hello again
after only minutes
that stretch to days
in the tortured uncertainty
of my mind.
your decisiveness is attractive.
a leader you are
or will be someday.
destined for greatness.
I could love you,
you know.

hello once more
after this stretch
of years--
not that you haven't seen me
every day
every week
every month,
as the seasons passed me by.
you blossomed with the spring
leaving me alone
in the destitute land
of the endless winter.
still,
I might love you,
you know.

hello, hello
this salutation grows old.
will we ever move past it?
I long for much more
than simple pleasantries.
shall you and I never be
more?
or less?
this caught in the middle act
wears thin
and my nerves fray.
I do love you,
you know.

love
I pour it out to you
my darling,
as you ignore this precious gift
that costs me the joys of life.
loving you pains me so,
yet I do not give up.
not yet.
I am persistent.
I love you,
you know.
I will wait.

hello again.
a lifetime has passed me by
as I stood here
hoping
praying
waiting.
fruitless passive pursuit
has left me
apathetic
lonely
and old.
you have your dream life
perfect wife
perfect children
perfect career.
perfectly in order with the plan
that never included me.
so this hello
will be my last,
as I am now stepping out
out of your flawless existence
and into independence--
the freedom of you.
do not despair; you will not miss me.
I loved you,
you know.
but no more.
never again.
this is goodbye.

Cry Out (a psalm)

All alone am I.
Deserted.
Everyone has left me,
and the world has rejected me.
Even the stars turn their faces
and gaze into celestial places
that their sight may not be cursed
by me.

"If tomorrow
when you wake up,
the sun has left
its place,
and the sky is
empty
dark
desolate,
I will still be
here
on my throne."

I am uncertain.
Nothing makes sense
as everything changes.
In this shifting universe,
do I have a place?
Or shall I be lost
in the rubble
of the renovations?
I cannot find anything
that I know.
I am lost...

"If the mountains
tremble
quake
fall
into the valleys
crumbling,
dust
to
dust,
I will still be
standing
firm and unshakable."

Violence
is the law of this age
as revolutions rage
all around
and I shake
and I quake
and I cry out for
mercy
salvation,
a hero.
Will a hero ever come?
Where is my superman
to rescue me
from the smoke
the flames
of this violent change?
The rampage
that threatens to
destroy...

"If the oceans
rise up
cast from them
the life that abounds
roar violently
for release
from their earthly prison
and take up their dwelling
in the sky
and begin their reign
in rain
and the floods
overwhelm,
I will still be
supreme
and in control."

So my soul cries out.
So You answer me,
My Hope
And my Salvation.

Who can ever say
'Your God does not hear'?
For You listen with straining ears
For just a whisper
From Your children.

And who could say
'He is weak?'
Oh my Superhero,
You ride in
On clouds of glory
With lightening in Your command
To rescue me
A trembling maiden
From the monsters
Under my bed.

So my soul cries out,
So You answer me,
My God
My Savior
My Everything.

Half a Moment

that first glance
was all it took
one little glance
and I was hooked
enthralling eyes
and a captivating smile
that i should have remembered
from days as a child
cradle friend
you were to me
first true romance
and yet to see
how shall we be
now
after everything?

a smile
a look
a touch
a book
a song
a kiss
a few months
bliss
now gone

for half a heartbeat
you loved me
and everything was right
but something changed
nothing's the same
and my days aren't quite
as bright

now you're gone
from my side
though you are always near
torturing
tantalizing
just out of reach
so close
and yet so far

a lifetime I have waited
a lifetime I have prayed
waiting and watching
watching and waiting
and hoping for brighter days
hoping maybe
just maybe
you'll come back
as quick as you left:
half a moment,

half a heartbeat.

come back...

Today

Today
my hope soared
when you entered the room.
So long had it been
since last you had acknowledged
my presence
even my existence.
But...

Today
was different,
as you waltzed into the room
and the warmth of the spring
seemed to accompany you.

Today
your eyes met mine
a first for a long time
and I started from my
daydreaming.

Today
you entered the room
and smiled
in my direction
and my heart skipped a beat or two.

Yesterday
I told myself I was over you
that I had moved on.
I thought I was above
the intoxicating influence
that is you.

Today
I learned
that I am not
over all of this.
I learned
that I love you
hopelessly
the same as yesterday.
But...

Today
is different.

Today
you sent a smile
in my direction
and I believe
there is hope.

Today
I am mistaken
for you love me
no more
maybe less
than yesterday.

Today
that smile,
which I have so often
cherished
and now
covet,
was
today
for someone else.

Under the Weather

I glanced at the sky today
brooding clouds swirling above my head
darkness
and the tearing of yet another page
as the lightning commenced its dance
across a tempestuous stage.
I cowered in fear
despising the troubles that mounted
high above my trembling form.
Naturally, my umbrella is broken
and here am I,
caught in a storm.
Why me?

Out of the frying pan
into the fire.
So the adages say.
Why is it
that just as I escape the rain
that pelts
and welts
and stings my face
I find myself trapped once again?
Only this time
by something more sinister and strong.
The whirlwinds,
the strife.
They sweep me along
'til I am caught up
in the vortex of my indecision
and find myself
gone.

And where have gone the peaceful skies
of proverbial bluest blue?
The warming sun
the cooling breeze
the shimmer of new-fallen dew.
A sunrise from the artist's brush
in awe-inspiring hues?
Do they at all
have they never
will they ever
exist?

Ah, but I see them now
hovering persistently over the heads
of my enemies.
The lucky dogs.
The lucky
loathsome
hateful
undeserving
dogs.

I'm pounded by the elements
hounded by Mother Nature
as she lectures most sternly
about the futility of dreams
while my foes are graced
with glorious days
that they cannot fully appreciate
because the storm for them
has yet to hit.

Oh the gloominess of being
under the weather.
But who isn't?
The only difference between us
is our luck.
We're all under the weather
but the weather
for some
is always better.

minuet in the silence

A lull in the murmuring
of the wind and the leaves.
And a silencing of the brook.
As I lounge in the unmoving grass,
so soft and comforting
like a bed of feathers,
but lush and green.
Lark songs cease
and predators pause
in their incessant pursuit of prey.

One moment
of pure
unfathomable silence.
Peace.

Then the trees resume
their whispered conversations
with the breeze.
The brook begins to babble again
softly humming to itself of an idea
that no one else knows.
Once again the lark warbles its sweet song
of notes high and low
as a second chimes in
in perfect harmony.
The stalking begins again
in its immutable rhythm,
the heartbeat of this solitary forest.

Nature's orchestra is in full swing,
serenading mankind
with its most impressive opera.
Obscure in its intensity.
Intense in its sweet peace.
Impressively unimpressive.
Overwhelmingly unimposing.
The inspiration of so many artists.

So odd, then,
That I found more music
In the silence.

A Letter

My dearest friend,
I will say "good morning" to you
(Though it is not),
And greet you with a smile
(Though I feel no joy),
And ask 'How are you?'
In a most sincere voice.
To which you will reply
(As you always do)
"Fine, and how are you?"
To which I will answer
"Fine"
(Though I do not mean it).
In fact, I will be anything but fine.
I will be as unfine as possible.
And I will say nothing when you accept
My untruthful answer
And move along with your day,
Though my heart cries out for you to notice
And my soul anguishes for
Your attention
Your care.
Just a single word of sympathy,
An expression of doubt
About my feeble answer.
Oh my friend!
That you would
Pause
And ask me
If everything is really okay.
To this, my response would be
A flood of tears.
I would let loose the gates,
Allow the tide
To break my walls.
I would shed my burdens
On my river of tears
And I would heal.
But I know you will not ask twice.
You will move along
(Like everyone else strolling past)
And leave me here
With a thousand
Unanswered cries for help
And a million
Unshed
Silent
Tears.

Call Me Friend

What's the use of putting me in a box?
A box that dictates my shape?
My size?
My color?
What's the use of labeling me?
Stamping me with words
Like Geek?
Nerd?
Loser?
Or even the nice ones
Like Beautiful?
Smart?
Perfect?
Why do you try?

You see,
I am more
Than what you see.
Your boxes are not shaped to fit
My personality
My spontaneity
My heart.
Your labels will not stick,
For what can adhere to a soul?
You may categorize me
If that satisfies you,
But your gold stars
And your gray dots
Will slip right off.

If it should come down to this,
In the end,
Drop your labels
Squash your boxes.
Just take my hand
And call me
Friend.

Lost and Found

sitting here among the others--
The Forgottens.
that's what they call us,
those lucky Takens.
rubbing it in our faces
that someone came along
and snatched them from the rabble
that was strewn along the ground
from The Possessors who came through
played a while
and walked away bored
leaving us to be blown about by the wind
until some well-meaning soul
gathered us up and piled us on this shelf
to sit and wait
and watch The Possessors walk by us.
occasionally they stop
examine the collection
choose one.
I've been here years
on this same shelf
I've been picked up
turned around
and rejected time and time again.
I've watched the others become Takens,
cherished and treasured and unfathomably loved
while I wait here
hoping for just one
to be my escape
from this
dreary
lonely
Lost and Found.

Confessions

I confess.
I did a terrible thing today.
A thing I can't believe I did.
I didn't want it to happen.
It was totally unintentional.

So there I was, just minding my own business
When I noticed someone walk past.
He gazed long at me
And my heart skipped a beat.
It wasn't because I thought he was you either.
Such a foreign feeling after all these many moons
Of loving and wanting and adoring you
And no one else.
And then I realized
What had crossed my mind
About the shade of his eyes
The strength of his arms.

For just one moment
The first time in an unyielding eternity
You were absent
And your place in my thought was taken
By another.
I was shocked.
Where were you?
Where had you gone?
And who was this stranger who
For a fleeting moment
Had hidden you from me?

But of course that's what you want
What you've wanted for a long time
Since the first time you broke my heart.
"Move on girl, stop being stupid. I'm not coming back.
At least not to you."

But then I found myself in the same old place
With the same old you
In my same old thoughts
Of Whatif

and Whynot

and Whatcouldhavebeen.
And the same old memories of
Stronger arms embracing me
And lovelier eyes that gazed into mine
And soft words spoken
And long kisses in the twilight.

By this time, I was thoroughly unhinged
Hating myself
For forgetting, if only for a moment
And for remembering, when remembering does nothing.
For wanting to go back
And for admitting that we never could.
For noticing the notice of another
And noticing your disregard for me.
Oh the agony
Of a torn mind.

I did a terrible thing today.
A thing I can't believe I did.
I didn't want it to happen.
But I must confess
That is not entirely true.

Tags: Confessions, Feelings, Moving On