The Hold On

You had the hold on,

The hold on me,

The hold on you.

Why are you named the way you

Are?

Perfect in imperfections.

But holding onto the

Traditions.

Faithful in the outcomes

But You made them anyway?

I was looking for a better reason

To balance this out.

To follow you on the porch lit

Scenery.

To hallow you in the

Misery, cause isn’t that a Holy

Place too?

I was always in the always,

Moving on and moving with the

Eschaton.

Isn’t it missed? Isn’t it a little

Dismissed?

I had some ages to live for,

But is this the one that I am

Here for?

I am closer now to the hold.

Waiting for the pickup,

For the Christmas wrap up.

For the biggest gift is unseen.

Is unclear in the here.

Is sure in the hear.

I am missing it.

Missing you in it.

Missing the parts that

Won’t be ages ago, or

Ages to come.

I need ya now.

I need the hold on.

Advertisements

In The Timing( 60 Days of Poetry)

In the Timing
Sunset was getting close,
You were waiting for this call,
I was waiting for the fall,
I can’t keep these secrets
So secret anymore.
You gave me this work,
You paid for the flights,
You gave me the lights,
They got some vibrant
On me,
They keep asking for me
To capture it,
Can we float like this?
Can we keep this high?
Cause I am not coming down.
I was looking back,
I was telling you about it all,
I am sick of carrying this burden
I am sick of lying to all my friends.
So I am saying so for the last time,
I am getting furry over the sorry,
These lies are killing all of us!
I am screwed all of this up,
Taken all these miles You have
Provided,
I should have said no to them,
All way to long ago,
You are my friend, this place
Has all my friends,
This is where it begins,
This is where the purity will
start,
The past is past us,
El Paso is home for now,
But that to will come to an end.

Spin

My life be spinning in circles.
Risk is the theme and so is follow through.
Diplomacy is the skill but so is power
Love is the game but so is lust.
Rust is the result, but so is fat
And sorrow, and sad, and endless
Mad!
The sight of these eyes is not satisfied,
It is filled with lie!
So color me new,
Who am I trying to fool?
I am lost in the lust it takes
To call you mine–
One whisper of your name,
Drives me insane!

Part 1

I have come to this place.

Like I was without volition,

Or any ambition.

I was the one that heard it from you first.

I did all that I could to try and listen.

You were just a beautiful kind of vision.

I said I would start working out for you,

I would start running for you.

Didn’t we meet in chaos to begin with?

So now I am in the volition,

I am on a day off still in ambition.

I am still wondering why I ever tried so hard

But it was because of the way I was raised.

I was raised for you to see,

All the shining parts of me.

I am in it now,

Waiting for this part to stay the stage,

To never wonder the next page,

I am the risk, and the wonder.

I am raised this way,

Raised in thunder and raised in rain…

Commas and Periods

Hello(from the other side) I must have tried a thousand times..Ok, you know the song and so do I. I have never been content with this blog and yet it continues. My discontentment lies in my own turmoil as a person and aspiring writer. I want to do more, and I talk it a lot but it seems a struggle to find a way.

Screenshot_2016-04-30-21-39-47

 

You don’t have to listen. You don’t have to read, but life is moving forward.

It seems like everyone has a story, but not everyone tells it. Not everyone takes time to develop a life worth living. We can’t do that apart from God the Father.

Just come back to Him. Just live again. Darkness comes and darkness seems to be a period.

The end of a sentence. The final gavel that will follow. It feels dark and dreary and I live in California.

I am not here to waste your time. I am here to tell you, don’t waste your time.

I am not here to make it easy on you to read. I am here to say something. I am here to search for the depths of something meaningful.

I think feeling all over the place keeps us feeling like we never have a home. Sadly, many people have a house, but no one to come home to.

In a world where connection seems a click away. Being alone is another period. You think you will never get married, or be with someone worth marrying, or someone wanting to be with you for a lifetime.

I know you got a lot more in you.

Often people are more led by what they feel, and not by what they know. I can’t be the only person that has caught on to this. ENFP that is my personality, so emotion is fuel to inspire, and I know that is true at 30 then it was at 10.

But what you are it goes on. A comma is a pause between two ideas. I should know the rules of the written language better. Nothing is final, and there are times when it feels like it is.

You are at the edge, I can just feel it. I am feeling it for you. You can’t expect this post to just end,  you got to live, you got to go aand live, you got to go and fail, you got to keep putting commas past your problems, you will go on, you will continue.

“For we have no continuing city, but we seek the one to come.”

I am holding back from really telling you about your future.

I used to tell you the Ruckus like I owed you a reason.

I used to make more noise without any fear, so what happened to those days?

Cause my voice is getting smaller, but that fear will continue to come at me, and we will continue.

 

 

 

 

Memory Wars

Inspired by my last week of being 29. November 13th is coming soon to a theater near you. As a child my parent’s would ask me, “Where is that movie playing?” I would say, “in theaters everywhere.” Switchfoot songs and especially their last album Fading West has been a source of inspiration. Here’s to the memories we have..good, bad and eternal.

Remembering to often

Waiting for the coffin,

Another nail for the unseen

Hail,

Remembering those words You

Spoke way back when

That red couch was my best friend—

Anger for the stranger, anger before

The manger now I am the manager

Of my own destiny,

Now I am forgetting the nails, the side

Splitting of Your body, a doubting Thomas,

A doubting spill of the dross,

I empty the burnt things,

The new signet rings,

The sealed love of the greatest

Song to sing, one more week before

The twenties end,

One more 30 years to get it right,

To live with waste is as good as

Haste, for I cannot move forward alone—

All or nothing at all is the song I sing,

Slipping away past the memories that

Haunt me, everyone has a fractured father,

A broken mother, a lost brother, a beautiful

Sister—but is heaven really my family,

Are my enemies really actually with me?

All or nothing are these memories,

Remembering feels like a curse,

Tomorrow could be the hearse,

Tonight could be the end—I will

Never know, I will just trust today,

And live with memories that have

Shaped me