Today..Wednesday..Last week was Seattle..before that was Los Angeles..before that was the 7 cites..Chicago, St. Louis, to Columbus, Dayton, Lexington, and Indianapolis…
NOW is now..and I am here( I miss this)..
Every time I get practical in life. I start thinking creative ENFP thing for me to do..
Receipts, envelopes, iced coffee staring me down, but maybe I should sleep and dream about you?
“Life is about love, and love is a story, so tell good stories.”
No one can ever get away from what they really want in life unless you stop trying. So much of life has been about trying to say things without saying anything. I mean political conflict, an overly sexual culture of porn telling us what is good and sexy when really it does a lot of harm. A twitter/Insta/Facebook obsession that still will remain.
I am trying to formulate the depth of where all of this began..and part of it started on this blog. 2007 was the year of the messenger. I mean when I really said I want to preach the Gospel and it went hand and hand with wanting to be a writer kind of person.
Love without words is not good enough, but the wrong words isn’t love. Love without the real definition can’t be what it intends to be. The only way to know is to show the struggle that we are on in search of it.
I am here to say that in the middle of life being life..that is what I want. I want to find out how to tell great stories, and how to bring as many people into the journey with me.
I think you want that to.


60 Days..again?

3 March madness months ago..I mean years ago..2015 I was in school and trying to escape with my blog( like that’s something I haven’t done in the past), and I wrote a day #1 piece of poetry..and this led to piece #2..telling a story..or at least trying to formulate it into a streak of writing.

Here I am and it is March madness all over again and life feels more complicated and yet better than ever. I think I mean that our world has gotten more complicated. However, that is the joy of creativity. No one really ever knows what you are trying to say, they only see what you are saying. And even that, well, gets you into a whole other dialogue of what should you be talking about instead of what you want to talk about.

I want to dive into something..this is usually how 60 days starts with a flow of ideas that have been building and I end up attaching myself to a few lines and going from there.

‘ The gig and the rig’ was all about reflecting on childhood which has made its way into a lot of writing. It was supposed to be about how wanting to be famous was never the answer to wanting to be known..but that is how it was. God was there and apart of the equation to because we all know being a movie star for Jesus is much more worth it then just living for Him in the first place.

The rig was this “stage and set” of the place that all the work had to happen. This dream was detached from reality and now here I am..32 and growing..and I have never had to work harder at achieving the same dream I am not after see?

March 10th…I started this post..




Full of complications,

Time wrinkled today,

Time spent on delay,

Green for the Irish,

Didn’t you countdown to that night, too?

Downtown Pomona for Ya,

Downtown with you on that day,

Are the brakes still screaming,

Even when I am leaving?

Its madness to not write it,

Even crazier to not say,

But if you want to speak,

Be louder than the peak.

The highest you can climb,

The Pike down the street,

I feel the weak…

Should it continue,

Do you want it to?

Last spring

I don’t remember last spring, the tightened grip on the past,

It’s just bits and pieces of you,

Every headline reads something new.

But everyone wants to know why

Their life isn’t better than the last.

The last set of months and weeks and days,

The last time I spent any time thinking about it.

You spent it all on the resurrection

And if it was not for everything,

Then their wasn’t any reason for spring..

Here we are at last,

Still trying to remember our past,

Why is this year the same as the last?

Or am I just still addicted to the same kind of memories,

And your headlines read tragedy,

Everyone’s trying to make the best of the last spring,

The cleaning,

The madness,

The sadness that still comes even when the Sun stays up,

And that pain never grows up..

I’m cleaning out last spring,

It should be the last time you stay..

Or the last spring you have anything to clean.


Drained from that drain,
Or, the no rain, no kind of pain weekend,
No, I messed that up again,
I kept you long again, kept you up again..
Got some labels,
Got some stickers,
Got somewhere I can put this,
But I can’t hang it yet,
Can’t play this song yet,
I am still behind the curtain,
And its all for You.
I wanted empty,
Wanted love for the softer,
Wanted excitement from the future,
But all I get is winter,
The soldiers I used to love.
Still off that high,
Still off to that high.
No, you ask me, have I ever thought
Of this,
Or have I ever thought of you,
Cause I won’t,
Cause I know its cause I can’t.
I can’t make that laugh fade away,
Or fade today.
That sun is never won.
But you, too, you are fading fast.
I wanted the past,
I wanted that back,
The parts with the better
Parts in it,
But now
But now its a different
Will this last?
Will you tell me the forecast?
Cause I got no protection this
No way of getting back to
Being weak.
You drained me, too.
You drained me enough, too.
All I had was spent on you,
All I was sure of was spent on


Still can’t let it go,
And neither can you.
Thought I could make it permanent,
Like a old rent payment,
Like you needed my dent.
Now, its a little late for this,
A little less late for that.
A little to late for those dreams,
Now you got something new to work on.
Someone new to work on.
Thought my love was on,
Thought my love was the reason
Why it was a late,
A late on the payment,
A late on the retirement.
Are you dreaming the same as me,
Are you seeing the same as me,
Are you washed and retired too?
Are you young still?
Or have you lost that thrill..
Cause its a swirl,
It is a a hurricane, too.
Its everything I wanted for You.
And now you got it, too.
Your heart is permanent,
Its a little to permanent too.

This Day

Musing from President’s Day..

Give me this mistake,
You are the mystery,
Hidden, from me.
Tell me the great lakes,
Tell me when they are greater,
Tell me when they say Savior,
Cause reckless is soon,
Soon to be near,
If I was a mountain I would
Snowboard to,
Down and out,
For the gold in red,
For the panthers of junior
High, to the raw on the screen,
To the ripped shape of your
I am the hero, soon,
I need to leave this place.
Tell me the stories you told
Once, when love was the punch.
I am a fighter, fighting for you.
Peace is the hardest to keep,
The worst to regret,
Cause I am crazy when I am
Not safe,
And safety, well you call
It something else.
Name me a name I won’t forget,
That day is coming to,
When this forehead has no more
Sweat, no more regret,
No more reasons to not
What’s this name,
Is it the president,
Is this his day?
Cause nothing compares to You,
The leader of All,
The source of All,
The one that has crazy plans
For me.