Shepherd, my shepherd
lay me down
still waters echo by resting ears, you've led me there
(abandon my fear)
in green pastures where i lie
for His name's I will rise,
for he guides me.
(through fear i will follow, blind-eyed i will trust)
Down paths of righteousness
no longer I will want.
I want nothing, for You
my salvation
my God
(i fear no longer)
You are.
On you I wait
all day
I wait.
"Peace" - Jason Upton
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
for everything we're "meant to be"
and on days like today
when the layers cannot eat (or hide) the chill from my skin
when my legs are paled and naked to the earth
and i'm running on a tred
that takes me to no where (and everywhere)
when your skin on mine
lights
rekindles
ignites
the words of this song in my ears
he sings
it's all that i can give, my everything
joy (for we are joyful, aren't we?, after all)
when it all seems so easy
now
when what we want becomes a meager reality,
when we, as nothing more than human beings, we win
we get what we've always wanted
what we've wept on broken knees for
alone, among company
to him
when what we want becomes a reality we've forgotten we were ever afraid of
when it all seems so easy and we embrace it
we are no longer imperfection
kisses on cheeks
your hand holds mine and it is
nothing more
or less
are we really these human beings? are we really breathing like the rest of them
is it really this
simple.
i look to the left at myself
farther still to you
and that tiny shutter inside of my heart
am i truly waking up again?
i won't say i'm scared, or lost
or confused
His love never confused me
but to've forgotten, to've passed it by
to've known and still not answered
for you
i will
be still
and utter
only
words
you've written
with my eyes closed
i sing
one note
but with my eyes closed, i hear an entire symphony
it's you
and it's possibility
i taste the pistil of summer honeysuckle dripped on my tongue
i taste that sweet memory
and the trees with their convincing branches who wrote there names all over my jeans (before the scars that is)
with acceptance comes the flood
the pulsing of the music of the blood in your
ears
you will remember with each rekindled breath
the pain
His suffering
His blood
i never deserved and it's so hard to
not accept
not understand
not even believe
but live
to live inside the pulls of his blood
to taste it on my cracked, infested lips
pieces of him, chunks
thread there way hap-hazardly down
my infected throat
my body
contorts
he finds no familiar place, he finds no room left in his home
but, BUT
that is NOT MY FATHER
that...that rejection
those are mine
and His are all the good in me.
my everything.
my God i am thankful
blessed
joyful
exuberant
have me be something extraordinary
always you love me
i am meant to love, teach me
when the layers cannot eat (or hide) the chill from my skin
when my legs are paled and naked to the earth
and i'm running on a tred
that takes me to no where (and everywhere)
when your skin on mine
lights
rekindles
ignites
the words of this song in my ears
he sings
it's all that i can give, my everything
joy (for we are joyful, aren't we?, after all)
when it all seems so easy
now
when what we want becomes a meager reality,
when we, as nothing more than human beings, we win
we get what we've always wanted
what we've wept on broken knees for
alone, among company
to him
when what we want becomes a reality we've forgotten we were ever afraid of
when it all seems so easy and we embrace it
we are no longer imperfection
kisses on cheeks
your hand holds mine and it is
nothing more
or less
are we really these human beings? are we really breathing like the rest of them
is it really this
simple.
i look to the left at myself
farther still to you
and that tiny shutter inside of my heart
am i truly waking up again?
i won't say i'm scared, or lost
or confused
His love never confused me
but to've forgotten, to've passed it by
to've known and still not answered
for you
i will
be still
and utter
only
words
you've written
with my eyes closed
i sing
one note
but with my eyes closed, i hear an entire symphony
it's you
and it's possibility
i taste the pistil of summer honeysuckle dripped on my tongue
i taste that sweet memory
and the trees with their convincing branches who wrote there names all over my jeans (before the scars that is)
with acceptance comes the flood
the pulsing of the music of the blood in your
ears
you will remember with each rekindled breath
the pain
His suffering
His blood
i never deserved and it's so hard to
not accept
not understand
not even believe
but live
to live inside the pulls of his blood
to taste it on my cracked, infested lips
pieces of him, chunks
thread there way hap-hazardly down
my infected throat
my body
contorts
he finds no familiar place, he finds no room left in his home
but, BUT
that is NOT MY FATHER
that...that rejection
those are mine
and His are all the good in me.
my everything.
my God i am thankful
blessed
joyful
exuberant
have me be something extraordinary
always you love me
i am meant to love, teach me
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Saturday, January 6, 2007
i want to smile more.
Oh to be back in control. Today, well it definitely was. I could gush on and on about how thankful I am for the people in my life. For the way things just seem to always work themselves into my life in just the certain ways that I need them. How happy accidents, miracles, and blessings from above are not in fact all the same thing. How serendipity is something of a completely separate nature. Do I really have the strength to let go of the crutches i've accumulated? When did I devolve into this, and admitting that what i've been up to lately is wrong; well how does that make me feel? I would rather not dwell, in fact upon deciding such, I will not; but what really is an ample amount of time to THINK about all the things you've done wrong? What really is the right way to go about making changes?
Where have my morals gone? I feel no longer convicted, and I think i miss that.
I promise I will never give up on you, you are loved you are known and you will not be forgotten. Lean on me and I swear to you I will lean on you. I need those around me I can be truly vulnerable around. We all need to be held without being taken. We all need to be kissed on the cheek rather than the lips. To be admired for the thoughts that emerge from inside rather than our hidden talents. These are the morals I took for granted, the convictions I twisted into prudishness. When did self value become such a dorky trait to maintain; when did slutiness become such a fashionable trend. Again, where am I?
How did I get here?
I'm not ashamed, maybe I should be. But it's a growing process, I choose this path I did it all on my own and I will not back down from who I'm becoming. I might incorporate, I will fumble, uncertainty is inevitable; but we're all rising, we all will rise. He is alive. I will learn to express, again, what I believe. I will not be ashamed, and I will wait. We will all wait. And sing, and build, and scar. But we will wait, not numbed, not plaintively; but filled and joyous; we will have thanksgiving dinner in our own little ways; every day. We will live. Filled. To go to sleep satisfied and wake up content. To snuggle, completely comforted in the heat of your own body; then the heat of the body of one who just wants to be near you. Fully clothed even. The reunion of respect in a relationship; the realization you are worth; worthy of such kindness. The hum of silence; the saltiness of a tear in the flame; a homemade fire in a stony fireplace.
The feeling of home, coming home. We will come home; to a place where words aren't really needed. To be held, in the truth; and really know you've found forever. Rediscovery; unearthing...i wonder what it would be like to feel complete hanging from the limbs of the red marker tree?
Where have my morals gone? I feel no longer convicted, and I think i miss that.
I promise I will never give up on you, you are loved you are known and you will not be forgotten. Lean on me and I swear to you I will lean on you. I need those around me I can be truly vulnerable around. We all need to be held without being taken. We all need to be kissed on the cheek rather than the lips. To be admired for the thoughts that emerge from inside rather than our hidden talents. These are the morals I took for granted, the convictions I twisted into prudishness. When did self value become such a dorky trait to maintain; when did slutiness become such a fashionable trend. Again, where am I?
How did I get here?
I'm not ashamed, maybe I should be. But it's a growing process, I choose this path I did it all on my own and I will not back down from who I'm becoming. I might incorporate, I will fumble, uncertainty is inevitable; but we're all rising, we all will rise. He is alive. I will learn to express, again, what I believe. I will not be ashamed, and I will wait. We will all wait. And sing, and build, and scar. But we will wait, not numbed, not plaintively; but filled and joyous; we will have thanksgiving dinner in our own little ways; every day. We will live. Filled. To go to sleep satisfied and wake up content. To snuggle, completely comforted in the heat of your own body; then the heat of the body of one who just wants to be near you. Fully clothed even. The reunion of respect in a relationship; the realization you are worth; worthy of such kindness. The hum of silence; the saltiness of a tear in the flame; a homemade fire in a stony fireplace.
The feeling of home, coming home. We will come home; to a place where words aren't really needed. To be held, in the truth; and really know you've found forever. Rediscovery; unearthing...i wonder what it would be like to feel complete hanging from the limbs of the red marker tree?
Thursday, December 14, 2006
not exactly what I expected, and i'm not sure it's finished yet.
Now that the leaves still find themselves confined to this place
confined to the place we no longer find ourselves
the leaves still travel up the heavy hill we no longer tread
they climb up the streets with the neon paint we remember trekking
heavy breathed, pink cheeked; we'd both smile and pretend it was easy
our getaway, i thought no one else could ever know
what the clocktower looked like upside down
while laying on the paved ground
the cross hung between the both of us
we prayed together, eyes closed, we meant it.
on a clear night, i never got a single mosquito bite, i never was so aware
as i am now.
the leaves settle themselves, where ours no longer tread
your arms around my waist, you were so drunk you couldn't even speak straight
and i let you drive, i let you touch me even as i clung to another's empty heart
i let you touch me with arms so wanting, so needing and i
needing nothing more than the assurance that i was assuredly wanted
still, we watched the band play from above and it wasn't even dark outside
you and i and all of those people we used to be apart of
although much more you than i, you still drove that red truck then and i still look for that when i'm in town
i forget you've got a new car now
the leaves still dance around in circles were our feet once were
where the cat trapst out of nowhere and we played with her idly
smoke curling lazily around our heads, our arms, our separated bodies
ashes ticked off our treasure map, we passed your grandparents, your aunts, your drunk uncle who told you to never let me go...
this was our hometown, you and i and all the others we used to be a part of
and the leaves still settle where we once drank, once sat by the fire, once nearly fell in the lake
they settle themselves outside the places
sunday mornings, i would wake you up and we would lay
arm in arm, nothing more than morning-breathed kisses, stale smoke and freshly popped altoids
and the music, the sleep, the television
the way you'd move your fingers up, and up, and down the thick strings of your bass guitars
it was all wrapped in your smell, your attention, your details and familiarity; it should've been all i ever needed
"Namesake" - Anais Mitchell
confined to the place we no longer find ourselves
the leaves still travel up the heavy hill we no longer tread
they climb up the streets with the neon paint we remember trekking
heavy breathed, pink cheeked; we'd both smile and pretend it was easy
our getaway, i thought no one else could ever know
what the clocktower looked like upside down
while laying on the paved ground
the cross hung between the both of us
we prayed together, eyes closed, we meant it.
on a clear night, i never got a single mosquito bite, i never was so aware
as i am now.
the leaves settle themselves, where ours no longer tread
your arms around my waist, you were so drunk you couldn't even speak straight
and i let you drive, i let you touch me even as i clung to another's empty heart
i let you touch me with arms so wanting, so needing and i
needing nothing more than the assurance that i was assuredly wanted
still, we watched the band play from above and it wasn't even dark outside
you and i and all of those people we used to be apart of
although much more you than i, you still drove that red truck then and i still look for that when i'm in town
i forget you've got a new car now
the leaves still dance around in circles were our feet once were
where the cat trapst out of nowhere and we played with her idly
smoke curling lazily around our heads, our arms, our separated bodies
ashes ticked off our treasure map, we passed your grandparents, your aunts, your drunk uncle who told you to never let me go...
this was our hometown, you and i and all the others we used to be a part of
and the leaves still settle where we once drank, once sat by the fire, once nearly fell in the lake
they settle themselves outside the places
sunday mornings, i would wake you up and we would lay
arm in arm, nothing more than morning-breathed kisses, stale smoke and freshly popped altoids
and the music, the sleep, the television
the way you'd move your fingers up, and up, and down the thick strings of your bass guitars
it was all wrapped in your smell, your attention, your details and familiarity; it should've been all i ever needed
"Namesake" - Anais Mitchell
Sunday, December 3, 2006
you are what you're obsessed with, not what's obsessed with you
I'm teetering
always teetering
between reality and real
the whirl of the pencil in machine, between the grind
skin whittled away, smell of overworked, overused metal on granite
smell of rubber burning underneath my feet, they're motioning
eyes wondering, I stab them into each and every person that walks through the see-through door
I want to know each and every one of you
you do not seem to care about me,
you do not care
and that's why I wanted to leave
So many that love me,
I am loved
If you close your eyes while it's whirling you'll fancy to one side or the other
you'll falter, if you close them long enough you'll fall.
I've never closed them long enough to fall, not even that one time when I was drugged.
There could be twentysomething surrounding me and I'd still pound forward
eyes on nothing, eyes on the motion pictures in front of me
I'm in love with the idea of knowing someone
of finding someone out there, in the middle of themselves, completely consumed in what
they want
who they like, the clothes they wear, the music they listen to, what they eat and how they eat it
whether or not they like to put their hair behind their ears
whether or not they even know who "The Shins" are
something more than just Garden State, maybe.
Even though I want that movie, I want to watch it, try and feel something
I used to want it to become a part of me, I used to want it to be me
used to
When every single picture, every single thing slides you from one emotion to the next
what do you do?
Do you keep on breathing
When voices are saturated, movements so precise
how can you not want it?
How can you not want that kind of exactness, the beautiful way
life is controlled by the actions of others
we want to know, we've fed on the relationships, the pictures, the words and memories and interests
activities of others
staring into an emptied box of wires
images, pixels, centimeters
smudge, burn, sharpen
We Only Always ever See what We Want.
never going for what we might find interesting, we all stifle that which interests us
we forget our "what ifs", we stick to the bare minimums
nudity found sickening, they all want us to find our other
to spit out the epitome of all life
from inside (outside) grow up (get old(own it)) movements
we make what we want, we are who we can fall asleep at night inside, who we silently accept as okay, for now
but when is now no longer just okay
when will you be the one who people stare at for hours
whose activities, interests, relationships, whose face and skin these people want to live in
when will I be who you want me to be
a girl
a pray-er
self assured
a soccer star
sororitized
a dancer
an ambassador
your smile
when I stop whirling, maybe then it will all settle down
will I be there, within all the wood chips
will you find me
always teetering
between reality and real
the whirl of the pencil in machine, between the grind
skin whittled away, smell of overworked, overused metal on granite
smell of rubber burning underneath my feet, they're motioning
eyes wondering, I stab them into each and every person that walks through the see-through door
I want to know each and every one of you
you do not seem to care about me,
you do not care
and that's why I wanted to leave
So many that love me,
I am loved
If you close your eyes while it's whirling you'll fancy to one side or the other
you'll falter, if you close them long enough you'll fall.
I've never closed them long enough to fall, not even that one time when I was drugged.
There could be twentysomething surrounding me and I'd still pound forward
eyes on nothing, eyes on the motion pictures in front of me
I'm in love with the idea of knowing someone
of finding someone out there, in the middle of themselves, completely consumed in what
they want
who they like, the clothes they wear, the music they listen to, what they eat and how they eat it
whether or not they like to put their hair behind their ears
whether or not they even know who "The Shins" are
something more than just Garden State, maybe.
Even though I want that movie, I want to watch it, try and feel something
I used to want it to become a part of me, I used to want it to be me
used to
When every single picture, every single thing slides you from one emotion to the next
what do you do?
Do you keep on breathing
When voices are saturated, movements so precise
how can you not want it?
How can you not want that kind of exactness, the beautiful way
life is controlled by the actions of others
we want to know, we've fed on the relationships, the pictures, the words and memories and interests
activities of others
staring into an emptied box of wires
images, pixels, centimeters
smudge, burn, sharpen
We Only Always ever See what We Want.
never going for what we might find interesting, we all stifle that which interests us
we forget our "what ifs", we stick to the bare minimums
nudity found sickening, they all want us to find our other
to spit out the epitome of all life
from inside (outside) grow up (get old(own it)) movements
we make what we want, we are who we can fall asleep at night inside, who we silently accept as okay, for now
but when is now no longer just okay
when will you be the one who people stare at for hours
whose activities, interests, relationships, whose face and skin these people want to live in
when will I be who you want me to be
a girl
a pray-er
self assured
a soccer star
sororitized
a dancer
an ambassador
your smile
when I stop whirling, maybe then it will all settle down
will I be there, within all the wood chips
will you find me
Sunday, October 1, 2006
this is what happens
love
i would like to really know it...would admirably respect it
humbly
i respect those things that I feel inside
i hold them close and endure
i ignore
i take what little i'm given, imeasureable, incompatible as it is with
my own
i love
until i feel nothing.
because it is
who i am
and it's never enough
i'm scared because, it is not enough
when will it ever be?
does it take until your late 20s, and then, suddenly
will this all make sense?
all the pains
all the ignorance
all the wrongs, spurts of rights, but mostly
wrongs
do they all mesh into a sudden forward sweep of rightness
or is it
rather suddenly, or do we forget,
the innocence we once had?
the rush, is it replaced? with a general acceptance
do we all just learn to settle?
My entire life i've been outspoken
i've been the muscular "beast" who never felt comfortable in a dress.
I've never felt comfortable.
and if you know me, if you really know "me," i remember you
i could ramble off a list of innately minute things that would bring nothing but silence...my memory is unnerving.
I remember the smell of the first boy I ever kissed,
I remember his smile and his laughter and the maroon t-shirt I had of his forever,
I remember that he mixed scents to make it his own...I remember those days
when they mattered, and it was easy--ier. It just was.
I've felt
things others don't even want
or need
I've felt not
because I've chosen not to feel, that which would make me
just like everyone else.
I stand apart, by my limitations....but they are choosen, not a crutch,
they are wanted, not needed, they are me.
And I am love
and no one I know....
no one I know understands what I feel, but I fall asleep at night
and I listen
and when I lie on the beach
or when I laugh just because
or when i'm with my family
I feel it
differently than i want
differently than i once was
and i wait. i wait despite the fact that i don't want to wait for
IT
but I wait.
whether you like it or not
whether you understand it or not (which you probably and more than likely don't)
i love you
and i remember, so much that it hurts my heart
so much that my head, it aches
so much
i remember your smell, your skin, your tastes, your likes, and passions, and
i remember you.
i would like to really know it...would admirably respect it
humbly
i respect those things that I feel inside
i hold them close and endure
i ignore
i take what little i'm given, imeasureable, incompatible as it is with
my own
i love
until i feel nothing.
because it is
who i am
and it's never enough
i'm scared because, it is not enough
when will it ever be?
does it take until your late 20s, and then, suddenly
will this all make sense?
all the pains
all the ignorance
all the wrongs, spurts of rights, but mostly
wrongs
do they all mesh into a sudden forward sweep of rightness
or is it
rather suddenly, or do we forget,
the innocence we once had?
the rush, is it replaced? with a general acceptance
do we all just learn to settle?
My entire life i've been outspoken
i've been the muscular "beast" who never felt comfortable in a dress.
I've never felt comfortable.
and if you know me, if you really know "me," i remember you
i could ramble off a list of innately minute things that would bring nothing but silence...my memory is unnerving.
I remember the smell of the first boy I ever kissed,
I remember his smile and his laughter and the maroon t-shirt I had of his forever,
I remember that he mixed scents to make it his own...I remember those days
when they mattered, and it was easy--ier. It just was.
I've felt
things others don't even want
or need
I've felt not
because I've chosen not to feel, that which would make me
just like everyone else.
I stand apart, by my limitations....but they are choosen, not a crutch,
they are wanted, not needed, they are me.
And I am love
and no one I know....
no one I know understands what I feel, but I fall asleep at night
and I listen
and when I lie on the beach
or when I laugh just because
or when i'm with my family
I feel it
differently than i want
differently than i once was
and i wait. i wait despite the fact that i don't want to wait for
IT
but I wait.
whether you like it or not
whether you understand it or not (which you probably and more than likely don't)
i love you
and i remember, so much that it hurts my heart
so much that my head, it aches
so much
i remember your smell, your skin, your tastes, your likes, and passions, and
i remember you.
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