Day 5

Cause I can’t do daily,

I can’t do every,

I got the day and it is fading away.

I once lost You, I lost you in the busy,

I lost the sense of never being ready.

I can’t do daily now that it is passing.

I can only live like it is not.

Cause you blew those candles out,

You let us know what wishes to

Let out.

Cause I’ve needed you to stay close,

I’ve needed you to let me in,

To let me love you again.

I can’t do daily,

I can only do the insane things,

The crazy and wild commands that

You bring.

I can do those,

I can do those things daily.

I thought I could pause on

Daily, but forward is the way

You raised me.

We sat and waited up for you,

For you to never leave again.

We were the one’s that built what

You left behind,

We were the one’s that are catching up now.

The world was never ready for us,

It should have been,

Cause we spent to much

Time, daily time,

Being afraid of what would be

Next,

Now daily plays the new tune,

Daily sets the new mood,

Daily is the reason for a

New altitude.

Daily is the does I need,

Different from the raised

Soul I would be.

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Day 3

Canceling debt,
And the regret,
All the things you could
Never set,
It wasn’t set,
It wasn’t the course,
Dinner was its own machine,
Night time was its own
Laundry clean,
Its own hour of lean,
So was the gym,
The basement downstairs,
The escape,
The noise of the stairs,
The sitting, and the waiting,
I wish I could start over,
And pull you closer,
Let you know now,
How hard living easy
Has become?
How to much rest has
Made me numb?
How movies are the greater
Of disease,
Cause fantasy has overplayed
Me, over saved me,
Overturned me,
Now I have debt,
And you took that too,
Now I owe you but I can’t
Cause I too am
Regret,
 I am the rest I never took,
I blame me now for never
Asking,
How hard will it get when you leave?
When you disappear, and never
Come back?
How hard will marriage taste,
Or maybe not anything at all,
Or maybe single, like the fall,
Like the rest, like the debt that
You can’t now collect,
I am still in debt,
I owe you all,
You raised me after all,
Can’t pay it back,
Can’t take it back,
Can only remember
To never let it happen
Again.

65

Two years ago this idea came about. As I move toward the spring. I write a lot at this time of the year. I feel like I have had this pattern of hiding and not writing a lot in the fall season and winter. It is California people. It is already Spring. Here’s the reflection.

New not found anywhere else
65 down,
65 to go,
65 years of going slow,
Slow at healing,
Slow at peeling,
Slowly never not yelling,
Faster you went at making a dent,
Poverty was just paying rent,
White walls covered the rest,
I had You, like a treasured chest,
Now I am in the meadows,
Now I am in the open,
65 more years with you?
Not sure what I will do,
Not sure where I will live,
Can I lay down the noise?
The first part was about you,
Now it is about me,
I am to cluttered upstairs
To see,
65 years you have to me,
65 of letting them go,
65 dollars you paid me,
Paid me to copy your
Voice onto the cd,
Now it is done,
Stills spins,
Still sits as another thing
I spent,
To get rid of something
You can’t pay to fade away,
Those memories,
They costed a lot,
They to are with me
Still

Perfection, Part 1

You could say we all start a lot of things we don’t finish. In the blogging world it has to do with starting what you write and not getting to that finale of pressing publish.

I can’t say that it has been an easy journey. You should see the hundreds and hundreds of notes on Evernote. I just got my computer fixed a few weeks ago. The same Mac that I got three years ago. You would think that writing would just be much easier because this battery can stand not being plugged in, but I can’t.

I am not plugged in. I am a lose wire attached to something that is called the source.

I am telling you now that your life is about to get wild.

I am afraid of people that I know, knowing what is really said on this thing. I am afraid they will find me and corner me and tell me how imperfect I am.

Distance and disappointment go together. The closer you get to something that doesn’t let you down the less likely you are to have distance. However, when people disappoint you and church lets you down, then, the instinct kicks in. The run or stay instinct.

Let us just get real honest here. I am about to turn 31 years old. This blog started almost a decade ago when I was 21. I have spent a lot of time thinking more than I have actually acted on those thoughts. Reading Making Ideas Happen in 2012 helped me understand that creativity feels like a tormented assent to the summit but without organization you will be calling home wanting to come down from that mountain.

I am not sure how to fit in anymore. I am not as attached to getting everyone around me to understand what I have to say. However, I need people. I need perfection. I need the things that every soul needs.

Perfection is the journey. We don’t pursue being perfect. We pursue the one who is perfect. That famous verse: Be perfect, for my Heavenly Father is perfect.

That verse is inserted in the Sermon on the Mount. The ultimate sermon on human behavior. The ultimate climax of colliding with your depravity. The ultimate picture of perfection.

Jesus is the perfection we seek. When people hurt us. When we lose perspective on eternity we lose this pursuit.

Emotional health has been a huge part of the church I go to. It has been a centerpiece in how I have approached my mind, and my relationships.

Perfection is what is in process.

 

Poem #36: Middle

60 days of reflecting continues..
That middle love that you are so tired of,
I am still digging for you,
Like a rig with bright lights for Ya,
I am coming home, finally, for Ya,
I am lined up late at night,
American flags and all,
Its a freedom haul,
Its everything I ever wanted and more,
Don’t you ask the same questions I ask?
Don’t you have the same fears as me?
I am putting it all out on the table for you,
I am going lower, even lower then before,
Life is meant to be lived,
So will you live with me?
Mobile goes the device,
Love is the best advice,
I am not a middle child,
Nor prone to reckless wild,
But is it not a part of living,
To get real close to dying?
Its that edge that calls to me,
Is she or is he apart of the journey?
Did she help you get here?
Did he help you get here?
Probably it fell in the middle,
In between letting go,
And really living,
Cause that’s where you find it,
Now, in the shadows of all
Night life,
Now I am disappointed daily
By things that don’t matter,
And all my love is scattered,
All this heart has gets shattered,
Keep it now,
Keep it up now,
The middle of mercy and
Justice is still the same
God with the same intentions,
The middle parts,
The middle dreams
That have yet to unfold,
I cannot go home now,
For its mobile anyway,
You are with me no matter
Where I go, middle and
All

Meaning In the Making

I have called this before the meaning behind the prose. For those of you who are new to this blog I have been writing poetry for almost 10 years now. I love it. I love the way it can sound and come out. However, I have an insecurity that comes from a place of raw honesty. I feel like the audience( that don’t know me) are assuming that I am always talking about deep personal things that are all true. I feel this internal focus that everything I am referring to has happened and is about a real person.

I have avoided explaining everything because it is more of an adventure as someone writing in poem form to just let the audience decide what to believe. I am still learning how to value people while I express pain that takes place. I do believe their has to be a righteous line that we draw in the sand. Letting your anger and bitterness for others brew and build inside of you( no matter how much it helps you write better) will in turn damage your emotions and your soul. God is the healer and He is also the creator.

He heals what He has created because we damage ourselves and those around us. This is an entire blog post and a series of teaching on how and why the human experience is the way that it is. God is good and set apart and Holy, and at the same time He moves through humans.

Their is always so much room to combine real and unreal together. I am talking usually about a few core experiences and memories. I do combine real actual lines from music and real moments threaded with a perspective I am trying to convey.

My core meanings that I express:

  1. Family: I am referencing my mom as a flight attendant. Poems like Red Eyes and Plane Mercy showcase this. I am usually borrowing the language of jetway and departures from the experience I had as a child. The language of airport and travel makes me feel very human and not so alone.
  2. Friends: I have had so many powerful friendships in Colorado and in my 8 years of Kansas City. And now in the last 2 1/2 years of living in California. Zack is someone that I lived with and did life with and the change that was experienced when he moved was one that was a challenge to adjust to. I wouldn’t have it any other way, however, in terms of opening myself up to connect with others.
  3. God: I am always trying to reflect on some part of God and His interaction with us. It is God being present to us in the experience of life itself.

Who is YOU?

You is not one single person. It is not ever limited to one relationship. It usually is a series of experiences threaded together. I will say that You is also not always me or even about me, it is also a way to insert in my observations of others around me.

I do sometimes quote real things that have happened and music that inspires. This was from a poem called Downtown Again( 12.31.11). I was living in Kansas City and was working at Trader Joes. Since its been so long, this is about a girl that I was talking to. She was working at the clothing store next to my work and the first night I came in to say hi to her, she had this song from Fleet Foxes playing called Helplessness Blues:

“What’s your name, what’s you station” what am I playing recently?

I then reflected on seeing her in downtown Kansas City and it was more of a sad kind of see then it was anything else. She was really with someone else but it wasn’t like we were together either. I just remember it was freezing cold and I was at Starbucks and I went through these revolving doors and walked into the cold wind.

“Revolving doors yesterday, downtown getaway and His voice so

Sweetly, departure recently from past ways have granted me to..”

All in all my heart was after the Lord. My heart was wanting what God was saying. I did like this person and it didn’t work out, but that is what happens to us sometimes. Our ability to stay tender and not hate others( and we can in our artistic expression) that comes from endless grace.

Keep reading and thanks for reading. 60 days of poetry continues. Think about this: what is the rig and what is the gig? What do you think I mean by those two ideas?