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

Change

Up against the tides of change

The endless rearrange for all of my days—

Eyes on the light, on the day when it gets

Set right—blood moons for the onlookers

But where is the real danger?

Shaking cities with bodily entrance and in

It we long to depart,

This tent is up for rent,

Paying what I cannot owe

By this grace we must try to grow

For free is just the invitation—

Fallen souls who used to be young

And naïve and without reprieve—

Now we can barely believe in a good

God instead He hangs over the flames,

He stands in distance while our lives

Live with resistance—

I am hardened daily by the scorching

Winds that burn beneath me—

Life is harder when people see all

Of you, but where would I be if it wasn’t

For community?

I delight in the path,

I run from the wrath you have

Hallowed out, with death being swallowed

In a tepid shout—

I cannot agree just yet with what I

Live by for in me is still an endless

Disease—

But I will press forward in this

Tent you ask of me to display,

For sorrow, for pain, for death,

For all the world to see

Emerald

Labor day means I should rest but I am working away at a ton of things written over the years and because my computer broke back in March I’ve been all over the place in bits and pieces organizing thoughts. I have three big categories: poetry, theology and film. My own personal journaling is in their too..anyhow what I am going to post will get inserted into older dates but until then..

Ah the sunrise

To my surprise I am

Enlightened by its light–

For yellow has chosen me,

Red has followed me,

Green has come around me

An Emerald sound, a mercy

Cloud above me, its to hard to

Say how lovely You are, yet what

I have seen I never want to see anything

Ever again! Come up here and I will show

Me, I will show You, I will have supper with

You, for it shall be last those who are now

Are first,

Its childhood stays with me,

Scared on the top stairwell

Stirring down there

Living scared,

Living scarred

And trying to hard

To escape the present

And to live present–

Here I am, send me

I am unusually kind to

The way you rewind my

Mistakes as if they never

Happened, as if I could never

Ask for more mercy–

Emerald please, all around

Me

Teenager

Older Poem from a couple years ago..

To all the teens that have passed through Kansas City and to all the
teens that skate in my neighborhood, this is for you. The song
‘Teenage Wasteland” by The Who ring real loud. For I don’t want to be
one that wastes that time I have been given and I don’t want to see a
generation wasted away either. Here’s my reflection.
Teenager
Teenage wasteland cries out from
The ground, there are souls all
Around, their skateboards
Hit the ground, their dreams
Hit the clouds, their memories
Are real loud

The teen and the American dream
Hit me in the chest and take me
To the best places

Hope they need, can they succeed,
Kickflipped they live, hardflipped
Over and over by a world that
Forgets living forever, skaters
Jaded, jeans ripped, sun stripped
With the beach in the purview,
With dreams in the rear view,
Goths and punks, smoke
Smelling of skunks, dried
And tried they are, tired of
Corporate lies, the machine
Doesn’t faze them, the world
Does haze them

For misunderstood they walk
For parenthood is the chalk
That chases and draws the
Dead bodies in the cement
Does it ever occur that these
Kids are the future? The change,
The groove, the point to prove
Or have I lived to long in my
Own waste of time and gadgets
And endless sunsets of days
Gone by, have I been to busy
To see the skaters and the haters
That walk by me daily, hopped
Up on their ipods, hopped up
On drugs, have I become just
As needed as them—in need of
The wasteland to end and life
To begin
To the teens of America
Help me understand these
Gaps I live in

Ever Changing Terrain

Down with the roaches

Now I have all these approaches

Lowly on a colt

Lightning in the bolt, I am full of the cult

I sipped it for years—

Are we sick with wondering

Or are we just wandering?

Hopeless romantic,

Feeling pedantic,

The rules have changed

The terrain has shifted

No longer does man choose love or

Choose good or choose anything anymore?

Lovers of self, lovers up on the shelf,

Saving mercy for a rainy day,

A storm to come,

Our love is on numb,

This pain is growing

The gadgets are losing their grip

Its an endless maze of what is next—

Bigger, faster but worse and worse it

Gets—cycles of regret, adulthood is

An ever evolving force–

Its remorse, but really it is not

Its regret but really its apathy

Its pleasure, its endless pleasure

But to what measure? To what end?

To where now can we comprehend?

Its evil all around, its a lie to believe anything else

Its still a choice, I choose heaven, not Hell

Mercy List

Inspiration comes from many places. Most of the time it is from a reaction to what is happening around you that goes to a deeper place of what is going on inside of you mixed with some music that plays in your ipod…this is one of those reflections in light of the last few days..(the endless barrage of facebook comments on gay marriage)

Plane Mercy on the runway

Living like a runaway—carried

Away with darkness, at the edge

Of night, with bright eyes for the

Fight, Skinny love for the skinny latte,a

For the drinks you never drink,

For the shots on the jetway,

For the Samsonite of dreams

You carry so closely, endless

Nights of the getaway—the world

Is ready for a change, a change of

Heart—mercy cries out from inside

Of me, blinders for the blunders,

Pain for the miracles we don’t see—

Faith is of little substance to the

Stubborn heart—

Mercy for the start,

O God, mercy for the finish.

Mercy for the bumper sticker

Fish and its Darwin defeat,

Mercy for the politics in the

Name of love, mercy for the

Next president that sleeps in

Arrogance, that blinks with

Weary eyes, mercy for the

Red eyes in me, that want to

Live what I say,

Mercy for the jetway,

This plane is leaving soon

Mercy for the travels soon

To come, for the mission You

Give us

Mercy for the form

Mercy for the form without power

Mercy for the self-righteous parts of

This fight,

Mercy for the marriages on display

Mercy for the kids not yet spoken

For, mercy for the little sister,

Mercy for the boredom,

Mercy for the borders,

Mercy for the edges of Your ways

For where are they recently?

Mercy for the grace I need,

Mercy to try and succeed

Mercy for the love You have

Mercy for the vapid sentences

For the rapid memories of this

Small existence,

Mercy for the colors in the rainbow

For the division in me, for the racist

Slurs beneath my breath, for

The slow giving of second chances

For the debts I collect when love

Has no record of owing anything, no loans,

No recollection of dysfunctions way past

Your bed time, mercy for the bad dreams,

Mercy for the depressed lost in the dark,

Mercy for the spark we call zeal, we call

God willing I die in red, white and blue!

Mercy for this land we call freedom,

Mercy for bleeding abortion,

Mercy for the hemorrhage of

Judgment that seems to be rising

On the inside, mercy for the flames

We call the future, mercy for the Lake

Of Fire, but mercy for Daniel’s fire,

A fiery river of righteous,

Mercy for the way we say it

Mercy for the way we must live it

Mercy for the cracks we have

Caused, for the apples we have

Taken without Your permission,

Mercy for the three day rule of

Speaking things out, mercy for

The thrice days of resurrection

Ways, of dying again to being

The center of attention,

Mercy for the things I say

But more mercy for the

Things I don’t do,

Mercy for the lack of

Follow through, for not

Really following You,

Til death do us part

In sickness and in health

In rainbows or in puddles

Of quicksand, of problems

Just for living on this land

For saying Yes to Christ

No matter the cost,

For seeking the lost

For living for love

Mercy for our lack of

Grace and our zealous

Love for the truth diplayed

In the wrong ways

Mercy for the future

That you hold in the

Palm of Your hands

Father’s Day Thoughts

From my Facebook page:

Sometimes I wonder if pain from parents in our child hood has a dynamic connection to who we are in Christ and where we are going in God. It can be a form of warfare from the enemy. But the key is to honor and be a peacemaker in our relationships. I do believe in generational curses/sin but the way in which the curse gets broken is in one word: change. Change and do what it takes to not follow any form of brokenness that has been passed down to you. All of this starts with gratitude and honor for where you are at today and how much Father’s are apart of our journey.

Some comments from my FB page:

Business Card

It’s a Sunset boulevard kind of hard

The one with the fancy business card

Apostle it should say for this Prophet

To pay to stay—I am wild now in a newer

Kind of way, bus stops daily in this city called

A cavity, called a dearth of ideas and an earth

Of repairs needed—I hoist up this pride for

Lord Stanley to take it from me, nothing in

This life ever seems free—free fall for the

Past days of sunset getaways, to much

Sand to sift through now but I am lost

Never for the wrong reasons, it was once

With the many seasons but better is getting

Bigger for this heart is expanding for You—

Happy is a disease that eats away at us,

Fast cars and tight clothes, the more skin

The more sin to peel back, naked and ashamed

In that garden rain, sin was plain to paste, to

Private to post—where are you now?

I am hiding on Sunset boulevard

I am passing out my starry business

Card—Apostle is me for have I not seen

The Lord? He is risen, He is in heaven but

Is He living in me? Hard is overrated, rather

Impossible is the future—how to love better

Than the past warfare seasons—we have not seen

Anything yet

The best storms are the one’s You create,

Love like an umbrella, better than Coachella is

A sound to come, a new Song to sing, but deep

Is where we got to go, deep into that uncomfortable

Are the blind at our feasts? Or are we to blind to see?