Gene Holes

I did say I was taking a break..or so it seems? I can’t get away from writing sometimes. I have been in a season of writing a lot of things down and teaching a bit. Poetry for me really started a few months before I had a mental breakdown back in 2007. Summer was a weekly effort to write something with my friend Kyle and a bunch of other all-night people in Kansas City 🙂 Those were some days..

8 years later here we all are. Kyle is married and I am still writing poetry. A lot of times I hit this wall with creative things. How much do I talk about my deep-seated fears and secrets while trying to make it make sense. This is everyone’s issue but pursuing your story and how God works in your pain..that is a never-ending quest that we are on. This reflection goes to present struggles with how easy it can be to not face yourself and face God. We want to slip away. And my jeans really do have a hole in them, so I am sad about that. That is an inside joke for my friends here in Cali..but genes do matter. When we move forward in life we do realize how much our environment shapes us and also how genetic proclivities can also do the same.

Skinny love on the empty penny

Jean holes again, gene holes again,

Gap in his brain made us all insane,

Been deeper since he left,

Upstairs boxes for the taking,

Munchies for the bowls we built

Around you, for the walls we built

Around you—video ideas for the sunrise,

Up with Your films in my head—

I was on the edge, I was a forest lover,

I was a midnight kind of fruit—

I am a plowing man, I am a brakes

Man, love has moved much to fast now,

Brakes are fixed and these eyes are not—

Vision is a puffed up dream for the same

Sermon on repeat, I am what I am not,

I am the west coast, I am the faded left

Handed kind of dreamer—I am here, I am

Not going to run away—

4am was the used to, everlasting was the

Song that was sang softly, into the dark

Breakfast for dinner, dinner in the middle

Of winter, colder air today for finally cold

Is gone,

Holes in these jeans, holes in these genes

I am slipping, its repeating, backwards into

A younger age, few more days with a few more

Waves, twenties to be over, roaring to turn to

Empty—

Now I build, now I continue, for the city is soon

To come to undo this thing called numb—

Don’t slip away into a place called running—

Suitcase those feelings, pack them away,

Face the life that you have today

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

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

Facebook Discussions: Living As Lights

Phil. 2:14- 16 “Do everything without grumbling or arguing, 15 so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky.” Here is what I think this verse means. When you are having true community with others and focusing on Christ together not only does not complaining benefit others( also what we call comiserating) BUT now in the place of gratitude with others YOU and WE all now fulfill being lights to a dark and perverse world.

The unceasing accusation( and rightfully so sometimes) from non Christians is that Christians are hypocrites, or that essentially if you guys are supposed to love like Jesus how come I don’t see that when I am around you..you guys just grumble and complain like the rest of us!’

When we follow through with following Christ by honoring authority and doing our jobs with excellence and being faithful to being on time and showing that we care( because of Jesus!) then that in it of itself becomes our greatest witness. So, it is love but love now is reflected in the practical sphere of influence that we have in the “warped and crooked” world. This is an awesome invitation to be like Jesus!

Today’s Reality, Show Me Mercy

Lovesick is the latch that is to attach

To the pain I feel, bus ride in the heat,

Humility over humidity, windy city with a

Never ending skyline, Gospel lover send it

Over, will I die as this Beloved Messenger?

Sex sells all over this God forsaken computer in

Front of me—pleasure is man’s measure to obtain

But wrath stays stored up, I now stay poored up in

The pouring rain, wasting my life in empty rooms

Praying to unseen forces, crying over the tragedy

I call sin’s sickness—this is the condemnation—

I love what I condemn, I love the darkness too,

It is not just them over there—I have wasted away

Too much money on sugar and that Eagle Eyed Cherry

Night, fighting the dawn with you, up late with the English

Patient but I knew it was the desert I had to walk in—like

Salt in the mouth it never seems to end, what now is

Religion anyway? Cause I am a pleasure renegade,

Cause I had those nights too will it seemed good to

Try to slip away, to try to hide away from the conscious

Fainted in the sin but the desire stays the same—love

Will have to proclaim me, but what does God feel?

Test today, failed it last year, one last time to get it

Right but still His face follows the trace of my outline

And an outline I feel, powerless after midnight to get

Anything right, I too am a failure and a fracture of a man

Free fallin plays on repeat for I love those old songs before

Pop music destroyed everything!

Superficial talks are no longer good enough,

Condoms are a bust even when they do not

Bust..yes, kids, as long as its safe? Really,

Hmmmmmmm..I can’t just sit around like

I am stupid because I am not but dumb is

Not in the bible but foolish is—this body bends

All kinds of ways but it will bow before Holy and

True, it will die with desire covered all around,

An imputed sound of a new sheriff in town—

King Jesus here to stay—I am not ready and I will

Not talk to kids like they don’t know what is going on—

Sure I shutter to say the word sex and naked and intercourse

And porn and scorn and shame and human trafficked little girls

And prostitutes that come to my church and tweakers in the

Skyline I call comfortable sunset time—meth addicts with no

Teeth to handle some real pleasure, some real love, some

Real mercy! We are all broken but how poor, how desperate

Are we for God, how much are we willing to give—I don’t

Know but I am pretty sure it is no less then everything

Lesser

No end to You

Find Your beginning

Find the power cord

Wield that sword

Mystery me seeks You

On my side I slept last

Night, waiting for you

To walk in-

Drive thru Encounter

Pills over the counter

Drop them, emptied them out,

Flushed them down the toilet

Along with regret and one piece

Swimsuit collections,

Magazines from the 50’s

Spinning in repeat—it was never

That bad then, it should have

Never been, James Dean love,

A rebel with a cause, a love

With a because, crossover like

Red rover, send Him the sinners

Celebrate those last dinners—

I am lame and maimed by pride

By the man that never lied,

Never stole any sort of control—

Now the last are first

Now I am a dirt lover,

A foot washer could never

Be me—a road trip affair

Over the mountain over

There—down the toilet

Goes these addictions

For these eyes have a

New set of convictions,

New sets of things to

Stir in and through us—

Holy is the Spirit we ask

For—let it devour anything

Called lesser pleasure

Meaning Behind the Prose and other Memorial Thoughts

The last few months has been a very prolific time of writing a lot of my stream of consciousness flow of poetry. This blog has had many aspirations in forms of video, some stories, mostly essays and movie/film reviews but out of about 1900 posts now at least half of those has been poetry. I am a huge fan of myself. And does it get anymore self-centered than that? Yes, it can and yes, it can.

I am a huge fan of myself through the lens of God’s saving grace. It is much more than just a one time thing when we embrace Jesus. Our lives tell the story. As Paul says in 2 Cor. 3-‘you are our Epistle!’ I am the living epistle of Christ and all He has done in me. My brothers and sisters in Christ, so are you. The greatest testimony to the world is our love for each other. When people can see committed healthy friendships and healthy loving marriages..at this point in the world that says a lot about the God we love.

I am a huge fan of the journey. A lot of what you have been reading the last couple of months has been about living on this earth and knowing that you are made for another world but that world is going to stay on the earth in the form of a ‘new earth!’

C.S. Lewis( who gets quoted more than any other person I know) said, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” Of course anyone can read this and think that anything on this earth really doesn’t matter so I can do what the gnostics and Greek thinkers did and disregard this creation we live in. NO!

The Apostles desired to be present with the Lord..they had such an intense expectation of heaven, yet it was their focus on eternity that enabled them to “enter the Kingdom with much tribulations!”

The line, ‘the earth is now, the earth is future, the earth is not going anywhere’ just makes sense to me that today matters and so does the future hope of restoration and so does an established truth that the earth is not going to disappear or explode. This is not the season four finale to Lost where Mr. Linus moved the island..literally..it disappears and ends up somewhere else..now we were all really, really lost after that.

I am being a little funny but nonetheless eternity has been in my mind. We have so much emphasis on how to live today and how to pull God’s blessings into our lives right now but is that really it? Is the purpose of life to make a checklist of presents we want for Christmas and one by one God sends someone in the form of a man to deliver them to us? Is the incarnation just about gifts?

I am actually insulted by the false cookie cutter euphemisms that we champion as “the Gospel” that really just sound like a five year old getting told that Christmas morning is coming really soon and you better be good or else Santa might skip you this year. Yet, the heart behind the gift giving has more to do with how I behave in order to “receive” something. Yes, ‘we have received every blessing in Christ Jesus’ and Ephesians is an incredible book on who we are in Christ, but I think we mistake God’s blessings with earthly provision. Yes, God does provide for us so in that sense we are always to be grateful. Jesus commanded us ‘do not worry about your life’ and also says, ‘is not life more than..’physical’ things. But as followers of Christ it seems much more sound to say that before the gifts came to us the ultimate gift of Christ atoning for our sins was to be given to the world. What then was the point of Abraham almost killing his Son out of his unrelenting obedience to God? We see that God was testing his faith but God was also getting humanity ready for Christmas. God was getting the world ready for the ultimate gift in the closest form possible. Jesus as a man. Jesus as fully man and fully God. Hear gratitude in these poems and in these posts. I don’t want to relish in how much life can suck but you do have to embrace that. I want to relish in this unwavering faith in God’s goodness no matter the newscast, no matter the Drudge Report.

If you have heard the idea in the last couple of months that life is not always what we think it should be, then you are hearing correctly. I transpose the past into a lot of things so sometimes it doesn’t make sense. Here’s what I mean: “Ink from coldplay plays on repeat—” Yes, this song is so good right now and I don’t know why but I just listen to it and probably in writing but the next line is a childhood image on middle school and high school relationships: “All those past lovers, past flings, past heart strings plucked and thrown in the gutter, was it better?Was it worse? Or did I never know true love first?”

I think I want to change the world and I don’t really believe it sometimes. The other main idea here is love. Skyscraper love was from thinking about tall buildings and how the one time I went to Times Sqaure it seemed so insane how high up those buildings could go but the clouds, the darkness and the things in the air could blur the Skyscraper and the skyline. I wrote: “a city life is scary, A club drug is passed down to me, who drank this before? Come out of her it says, out for good, a shout for short, a proclamation for long!” The idea that we have built altars around sin and death and have called it ‘just having fun’ is sickening to God but heartbreaking more than anything. Our role as followers of Christ is not to point out people’s addictions( when we have our own too) but to do Ephesians 5( a passage I’ve been in for a couple of months). We walk as children of light and in this walk we expose the darkness by the way that we walk.

Memorial Day is more than just honoring the troops. It should also be a reminder of man’s identity crisis. When man does not know who he is, he is prone to violence. I don’t say this to make a trite statement against the military. It is not a small thing. I just made a presentation last week on PTSD and the treatment options in them. In the research I watched videos on these therapy sessions with those who fought over seas. It was very eye opening and something I can’t connect to. But I also want to cut through the sentiment sometimes and turn the camera on the person doing the filming. I love war movies and I hate them at the same time. I realize that my ethical compass gets broken when I see what I am seeing. Even films that add humor to mask the rather death like tendencies of war still work it for you and make you question your birthplace. I don’t understand war but I do make a RUCKUS about the Gospel. Their is something far scarier than war coming onto the planet. A great shift. The line in poems for me is “the great rearrange/ a rearrange.” Jesus returning to the earth will start the greatest war the world has ever known and it will be more severe then anything we have ever seen. Can we face this warrior Jesus and embrace his perfections and trust in His leadership?

I.S.I.S. is not our enemy. Islam is not the enemy. Though the expression in the extremists is gnarly and has yet to really interrupt our comfortable lives the forces of evil will make I.S.I.S. look like a high school shooting rather then World War 3. We love violence. We love Mass Effect and Call to Duty and Grand Theft Auto and everything and anything that has to do with blowing heads off people. For men its a disgusting perversion of how we are meant to fight and meant to war but for love. We are God’s warriors not just warriors. I don’t give a crap about trying to be tough and study how cool weapons are and how fun hunting can be( I am not slamming that) but their is a difference between thinking just being a man is being tough, violent and that you know about guns and engines. False love and false war is in us and upon us. The war against porn is in tandem to the war on false war. Why else would Jesus put anger and lust right next to each other in His Sermon on the Mount. Memorial day is about honoring those who have suffered but anything that is suffering apart from Christ just in turn is the creation worshiping itself. You will die in your sorrow without Jesus. I remember mercy and love but I do not support false masculinity. I honor and respect what the troops have done but I realize a more home front battle is being fought and it is over what the man is. A man is to be conformed to Christ and to be like Him in every way and which of our lives.

Let us remember our warrior King, King Jesus.

Steady

Just for fun here’s some meaning in this:

The song rollercoaster by the Bleachers..’come a little closer!’ Fruity Camper award at summer camp when I was 9 or ten years old so about 20 years ago. The fruit part was not a gay reference it was that I had a lot of Joy! It is sad now that certain upbeat emotions in a man get translated as the femininity that comes with being gay, instead of the idea that a man can be tender and cry and have a “feminine” side that is healthy in being a man. The idea of both genders misunderstanding these things has created division among the sexes. The Pizza parlor reference is about winter 2012 taking a Psychology class at Longview College and hanging out after class.

You’re a roller

You’re on the coast,

I am pushing the peddles

I am pushing the whittles of

Child with five skittles,

Fruity me,

Fruity camper,

Oh how gay,

Oh now its Paraguay,

I can’t grow without you,

I don’t want to stretch without

You next to me–come a little closer,

Is love a choice without a risk,

Without a sacrifice–

I don’t say no anymore–

This head was made for thinking

But this life made for living–

You used to go to church,

Now you are still on the search

Pizza parlor in the winter, 36 hours

Later was the coldness of December–

Closer is a myth when their lives on regret-

To make a dent, to pay the rent, to keep the

Rubber on the road with love about to explode–

Your love is the heat, I am cold, I am up, I am

Down,

Steady aim, steady heart!

The Middle

Middle hallway nights
Fights and flights to catch—
Frozen love, frozen pizza, frozen
Growth—radioactive was the adjective
Descriptions for the heavenly prescriptions
Needed to sleep still at night,
Carved my name with a pocketknife
Waiting up til midnight with the hallway
Lights—can’t take this anymore, gotta love
Better, gotta make due with what isn’t here
Yet—
The earth is crying now, the earth is waiting now,
The earth will not fade away—
Middle is never here to settle like water
In the kettle, I am a burner kind of lover,
I am a blue kind of flame, is it gay to love your
Man friends? Loyal is now called gay—
Called find another way, called never show
Your affection for men don’t need it anyway—
Respect me, love me, touch me but don’t hold
Me! Middle affairs on the way to work over there—
Never satisfied with one size with one wife, with one
Women, with one home to live in—never better,
Never weather we could run away in—
Middle hallway talk, meet me halfway God whenever
I can’t even step one step, meet me when I cheat on You,
When I love the forgery affair where my affections stay
Carved like in a tree at night when those beach days ruled
Us anyway—carve Your name on my heart, may it never
Move away—in the middle, up above or ahead in the front