a freely written poem

words, loose
unbound by premeditated thought
let's a rhythmic beat unfold
as pen drags across pages:
blank and white
and waiting.

inspiration comes like the waves of the sea:
lapping, sloppy, against the shore.
THIS IS WHERE I AM FREE.


an audience, captivated and anticipating
traces my prose; each line in search
of something that reveals identities and relates
to the parts that are tangled and knotted.

meaning found
in between the tick-tock of moments gone by
and the still-frames that linger even with closed eyes.
THESE ARE CALLED MEMORIES.


words, loose
bound in existence, permanently placed
where stars and galaxies share.

by: me, April 11, 2012

imposter

surprised by chance or some form of fate
a meeting of lives

intertwined

before the burning of bridges

fueled by imagined thievery,

this wasn't built on that bridge. 

every moment was parallel

every step separates initial identities

every breath reveals the substance inside

every minute unites two anonymous entities;

this is what it means to become tangled. 

ideas begin to dwell 

                  to swell

                             to fill up the spaces that eloquence could never fill.

darling (that's such an endearing term,

i should like to call every one by it),

look into the mirror and read the etching

objects are closer than they appear

though, my hands are the ones sketching

doodles on the pages of hearts, not books.

this is nonsense, stitched together with threads

red and binding that no doubt, will unravel

there is beauty in the unwinding.

i'm not holding my breath.

i will not be made insecure.

my certainty is this:

i am a ruby, pink and rouged by a passion

that stands alone, that isn't fashioned

created or destroyed.

i am: not yet, but later*.

*"not yet but later", and their meaning were not my inspiration, just an idea that deserves it's proper credit to JB.

Wolf

In these last few weeks since I last posted anything of substance there has been an

e b b i n g   &   f l o w i n g 

in my life and as I sit here feeling confused (yet resolved at the same time)

 I wonder what you'll make of this;

regret, in flakes cold and somber fall over choices made in hazy lamps glowing light

do we know what we are doing? I doubt it. 

we are just tumbling, tumbling
                                                   tu

                                                        m bl

                                                                     li             

                                                                         n         

                                                                               g

maybe if I loved you enough, maybe this dicrotic, necrotic heart-beating 

wouldn't have so easily broken us

but instead, we onward move through time and the spaces of our hearts

w            o             n             d             e             r              i               n             g

where do we go from here? I said, where do we go from here?

this is the point of going back, but never to the 

start
fast forward
and suddenly, the end is before us like a CLIFF
we are just falling, falling,  fa
                                               l

                                                      li 

                                                             n

   g

understanding 

escapes like a last breath

from between barely parted lips turned blue by rigamortis. 

lines, vulgar, we crossed much like eyelashes after sleepless nights

shared under secretly hidden, paper made stars. 

words, deeply cutting separate.

from dust did we come, and dust to which we return  it is to dust to which we remain, remain, remain.

fear, dulls our senses til we in a stuporous rage inflict insensitive attacks

arrows, flaming and destructive tear a way through the tangled vines we find ourselves wrapped in

we are beyond tangled, tangled, tangled
                                                   ta

                                                        n

                                                 gle            

                                               d         

                                                            up.  
dotted lines, on a map remind us that no matter which path we take, we're always walking in someone else's footsteps. each dashed and dotted marker makes memories resurface. we've been here before. 

l            i             n             g             e             r              i               n             g.

vagabond

vagabond

I am a wandering soul

or so I have been told.

I walk a fine line,

a lifeline, a tether;

one silly red ribbon

cut to pieces and tossed into the wind,

like bread crumbs

leading a trail 

down the rabbit hole

Monster

She wonders if it's true

"the first cut is the deepest"

and in one night

it all comes unglued

just when the pain faded

a memory returned

leaving her hurt and jaded

the boy who knew it all

didn't bother to call

blue eyes peircing deep

reaching down into her soul

blindly, she followed him

and let herself go

became a monster

almost

bad was never bad enough.

 06/08/2010

coffee shop scribbles

lyrically scripted, poised to acoustic perfection

this coffee shop musical endeavor creates 

pulsating, good vibrations

and inspires dry bones to dance

dusty shelves mimic years of chimney soot

left behind by lonely fire's shared on cold, winter nights

outside, a chill overtakes a fresh spring afternoon

while ice-melting frames the view through a broken window

virtue,

ascending like an eagle

silences the crowd inside

this tabernacle of praise

tables turned allow hopeful faces to see

living art on display:

an audial experience to tempt and tease

your heart strings

2/13/2011

Boots

Boots, en vogue.

Delicate and trendy, how they carry a starving girl who hungers for more than another meal. 

What can satisfy that insatiable need for love and attention?

Boots, black and loosely laced.

Dusted with earth from paths-less-traveled all around the world.

Where is home for a wandering wonder?

Boots, shiny and tall.

Reaching over netted legs, disguising bruised knees; turning tricks and getting paid at an hourly wage on her back, just like her momma taught her.

When will the cycle end?

Boots, salted and soggy.

Seeking solace from sleeting snow on broken streets and sloppy sidewalks.

What can warm the coldness that reaches the deepest parts of a soul?

Boots, hidden and scuffed.

Beneath the faded and worn denim of a man who traded the simple life for big city dreams.

Why isn't our own grass green enough?

Boots, used and shared.

Passed down, too large for his developing frame; he'll grow into them like his siblings before.

Who will be the one to give a new gift?

The Forest

we are in the forest, walking. 

it goes on endlessly.

radiant, glorious light comes from every angle.

it floods the forest with love.

we are all questing after the source of the light.

that is why we are here, walking.

the tree's are tall.

the path is rocky, narrow.

sometimes we see footprints of those who came before us.

sometimes the path has never been trod upon.

i was in this forest. 

stumbling through the dense growth.

my clumsy feet trip on roots and rocks.

often times i wander, aimlessly. lost.

and He comes along.

He takes my hand, and gently leads me forward.

but many times i unlace my fingers from His.

Portraiture

Pride is a crown on my head.

Confidence is a wig that cascades, falling over my shoulders

and frames the mask of Contentment that I wear.

It is porcelain, smooth without blemish or scars; perfect.

Pretty rosebud lips cleverly deliver what you want to hear.

A jewel dangles from a chain around my neck. 

Its a locket. 

Inside the beautiful engravings is a picture and a map.

Beneath the golden trinket I wear a breastplate stolen from a coat of armor worn by a King.

It does not belong to me but I claim it as mine. The metal is shiny and strong but it is much too large for me. It's uncomfortable.

My feet are adorned with Desire.

One shoe laced with Righteousness, the other with Selfishness.

My heart is a heavy stone; Tar clings to it's chambers.

Thick and sticky, it spreads like a cancer.

With gloves of Self-Reliance I pull, peel, and try to pry the mess off of my heart

but it just stains and ruins the gloves.
09-23-2010

09-22-2010

driving in my car, you're in the driver seat

with my feet on the dashboard you say it's cute

sunlight streams in from the dirty windows

inside i think how much i want to hold your hand

instead, i grab the seatbelt and pull it away from my chest

i want to live dangerous

love recklessly

discontented and living between desire and righteousness

i turn my face away from yours to count the road signs we pass

looking up, for a promise in the sky

watching the clouds that we are driving by

if only you knew how clumsy and messy i was

foolish dropping pebbles and playing in the sand

a summer night meets the autumn chill.

8-3-10

turn off the lights.
turn the music on.
sit still.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
this isn't working
turn music up louder.
pull knees closer.
close eyes.
fight back tears.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
bite lip.
tears seep through closed eyes.
reach to turn the music louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
tears stop.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder. 
louder.
louder.
louder.
louder.
heart rate returns to normal.
breathing slows.
eyes open.
breathe.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in.
out.
close eyes.
sniffle.
wipe nose.
open fist.
drop glass.
this isn't working
still.
silent.
complete.
completely useless.
lay there.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
wait.
breathe.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in.
out....

illuminate

In my closet, I close my eyes and hide; 

the darkness is the perfect place to disguise my tears, 

and the ugliness I feel inside. 

An Old Friend calls to me,

 beckoning my attention, 

inviting me back to the familiar addiction. 

The memories raise the hairs on the back of my neck, 

my arms crawl with anticipation; 

oh, how sweet it will feel to hold you in my hands again. 

My head drops into my hands and I clutch my pen tightly. 

This could be what separates flesh from bone tonight.

To feel your touch on my arms sends cold heat surging over my body and my stomach turns over. 

Gentle and soft, like a whisper or a leaf falling, did you have to come back now?

 The only light to illuminate this hole is trickling in from the space between the door and the wall. 

There isn't so much as a flicker inside this heart tonight.
7-26-10

Change me, O God!

I wrote this a few months ago, and I am still struggling!


October 3rd, 2009
A million memories rush through my head,
insomnia keeps me from my bed,
and thoughts of you keep me awake
how much longer until i break
this is the part where i will admit i am getting what i deserved.
the past bridged with the present
looking to the future with blinded eyes
and muted hearts.
shame and regreat holds on tight
what is for me, for you, and for Him
nothing seems to work out the way i want
i gave it all, all that i got
and each time what i had was lost
lost between what was wrong and right
lost between the sheets
in the darkness of the night.

October 3rd, 2009
One time
was all it took to shatter the fragile world I created
built around the idea that I could do it on my own.
One kiss
and I let the mask of innocent and purity fall
in shattered peices it lay on the floor.
One touch
the feeling felt down into the depths of my body
compromise never felt like this before.
One time
was all it took to open the gates to my childhood
and let all the memories enter my life again.
One night
and a lifetime of regrets and shame filter in
adding to the already confusing story book.
One boy
came in between a good girl and her morals.
One boy
came in between a Good God and His child.
One boy
came in between a past and future.
One boy
came in to a life.
And one boy
took it
away.


God, forgive me! I am not worthy of even praising you when I can't follow what you ask of me. My unclean mind and unpure heart are stained with sin and shame and regret and I am bearing, bruised fruit from it. Lord, I want to give it up to you! Erase it from my heart, my mind, my body! Only you can do that. Restore me, Christ, that I can leave behind my lusty heart and evil mouth. I want to worship you, not man, not any man, not my body, not the way it can feel. Let me be yours. Noone elses. Not his, not the devils.
I am sorry...for always turning away Lord. How can I deny you? I am falling so short, and straying so far!

Even now I continue to bathe in sin! Wash me in Your righteousness and cleanse me! God, I can't do this on my own! My spirit is so weak...my flesh craves the attention. Why am I letting the evil one have so much power over me?! God, I can't do this! I need you! Help me to stay pure. Take my lusty desires! Blind my eyes to romance. I want only to love you! I want you! I don't want anyboy! I want you Lord!

Exhausted

I am tired. Tired of being caught up between my flesh and my spirit. I am at war, and I am trying to win all by myself. But I know that I can't do it on my own. I need Jesus. I want to want Him cause I know that without Him I will lose nothing. Yes, lose nothing.

I am guilty. I am ashamed. And I don't know if I will make it to heaven. I am afraid to die. Even though I know that the way to heaven is through Jesus, and believing in God and what He did through His son I am redeemed. But I don't feel like it. I don't feel it. I don't know if I am saved.

I am walking in darkness, proclaiming light.
This war is waging, can I win this fight?

Though my feet are heavy,
and my heart is stone,
and my mouth speaks lies,
and I feel so alone,
and tonight, this girl cries.

She cries because she is sad.
She is tired. She is mad.
Sad she can't be better.
Tired cause its too hard to try.
And mad cause she doesn't know how.

Time ticks the life away,
what do I have to show for it?
A few lines? A few rhymes?
Leftover marks from spiritual suicide?

Satan and his soldiers march.
The drums begin to drum.
The flames begin to blaze.
The earth shakes with the steps of his army.
This is war.

Closer now, I feel it coming.
Alone I stand.
Armed in nothing but shame and guilt.
The Enemy has already wounded me.

Over the horizon the waves of warriors march.
Step by step and the fear overtakes me.
I want to run. I want to hide.
But I am alone.
And this is the desert.

How can I feel your love?
How can I be saved?
How can I know you?
How can I love you?
How can I glorify you?
How can I praise you?

Face to face, we now stand.
My enemies. My temptations.

Boys. A whole line of them.
They tell me how pretty I am.

And behind them is a line of Clones of me.
Each with a shard of glass.
Each with scars on her arms, and wrists.
Each girl with a grin across those lips.

Next are the Memories.
Fighting parents.
Absent parents.
Abusing parents.

Lines and lines and lines.
I have so many enemies.

But this is between Satan and me.
The rest disappear.
So it is just I, in my rags
and he in his armor.

I look to his eyes, hoping for compassion.

I look at his armor.
Strong, and sturdy.

I look at his helmet.
And I see my reflection.

Empty eyes, thirsting lips,
a heart of stone, sadness
weakness.

But I see something else too.
Familiar, but still so new!
A robe of radiant white
and a glow of radiant light.
A crown of glory.

Can this be!?
The King of Kings?
Standing right next to me?!
Is He going to fight?!