i can feel the blood
i can feel the pulse pumping slow
i feel agony
i can feel the ache in the flow
i give my little
i cry your fear
i love you His hope
His hope meets us here
spyglass guards the entrance to my soul
strongest of prescriptions
gives me perfect x-ray vision
it mirrors wounds like they're my own
cuts so harsh they beg contrition
i give my little
i cry your fear
i love you His hope
His hope meets us here
my shoulders so narrow
Your hung arms so wide
Your cross I can't carry
You hold me up inside
uphold this universe:
the gravity
of empathy inside
the fraction of your frightened i can claim
so potent in my heart; can't compare to where you are
but each emotion's height He can contain;
sorrows borne and killed in His scars
i give my little
i cry your fear
i love you His hope
His hope meets us here
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
i hate webber, but the metaphor is apt.
i have been hurt, abandoned, and rejected throughout the course of my life. i don't say this to be maudlin; you set yourself up for these kinds of things when you pursue a life in the arts. it is a field where you are judged and critiqued on microscopic levels...a field where you have to constantly prove yourself worthy. and when your efforts fail, hurt, abandonment, and rejection lie in wait, ready to devour every sinew of your confidence and self-worth.
i hate those feelings. but what i hate even more is the disingenuous nature many develop in order to cover them up. each name-drop, each mention of this show or that director or recent paycheck, each self-absorbed monologue and gossipy remark serves to mask a vulnerable artist afraid to create life - - but not on the stage. no, the stage is fake and safe and allows you to be whomever you can't at your 9 to 5, on your sofa, with that guy you might just be dating but you're not quite sure. the artist hiding behind a shroud of famous so-and-sos is the phantom afraid to be removed from his opera house. it takes a special soul to be able to breathe honest life into the mundane...without lights or glittery costumes or blue language to scream in an effort to 'be free from society's constraints and social mores'.
i love the stage. i love being able to step into an unwritten contract with an audience and usher willing minds to another world to tell a story of importance. but it pains me to see that fantasy being used as an emotional drug by actors to escape hard, true interaction with any immeasurably valuable human being.
all of these things build a great fear in me. i start to wonder if honest interaction is even possible. yet scripture says over and over again, 'do not be afraid'. i always heard that and thought, "great. something else i'm doing wrong. i'm scared and i'm not supposed to be so i guess i'll just grit my teeth and pretend my way through it." but scripture has many statements like that: 'pray without ceasing'; 'take heart'; 'delight in the Lord'...God wouldn't just give us those commands to shame us and tell us we're failing. there must be something we can do.
that's where trust comes in, which makes me sick, because i trust and then i get hurt and then i never want to trust again. but true trust perserveres. this is what i'm learning: trust is not blind, but it is also not fickle. when you trust continually, you will still experience hurt and abandonment and rejection. but you will not live trapped within those emotions - - the pain will bloom and die within a larger goal of hope.
i find myself struggling to break from these opera houses of fear daily...scared to leave the safety of my solitude for the wild of broken, fragile relationships. but i do it because i want my life to rival any story worth becoming a musical. i mean, heck, my life's got enough music already. it just needs a killer plot line. and that means risking for what's real.
i hate those feelings. but what i hate even more is the disingenuous nature many develop in order to cover them up. each name-drop, each mention of this show or that director or recent paycheck, each self-absorbed monologue and gossipy remark serves to mask a vulnerable artist afraid to create life - - but not on the stage. no, the stage is fake and safe and allows you to be whomever you can't at your 9 to 5, on your sofa, with that guy you might just be dating but you're not quite sure. the artist hiding behind a shroud of famous so-and-sos is the phantom afraid to be removed from his opera house. it takes a special soul to be able to breathe honest life into the mundane...without lights or glittery costumes or blue language to scream in an effort to 'be free from society's constraints and social mores'.
i love the stage. i love being able to step into an unwritten contract with an audience and usher willing minds to another world to tell a story of importance. but it pains me to see that fantasy being used as an emotional drug by actors to escape hard, true interaction with any immeasurably valuable human being.
all of these things build a great fear in me. i start to wonder if honest interaction is even possible. yet scripture says over and over again, 'do not be afraid'. i always heard that and thought, "great. something else i'm doing wrong. i'm scared and i'm not supposed to be so i guess i'll just grit my teeth and pretend my way through it." but scripture has many statements like that: 'pray without ceasing'; 'take heart'; 'delight in the Lord'...God wouldn't just give us those commands to shame us and tell us we're failing. there must be something we can do.
that's where trust comes in, which makes me sick, because i trust and then i get hurt and then i never want to trust again. but true trust perserveres. this is what i'm learning: trust is not blind, but it is also not fickle. when you trust continually, you will still experience hurt and abandonment and rejection. but you will not live trapped within those emotions - - the pain will bloom and die within a larger goal of hope.
i find myself struggling to break from these opera houses of fear daily...scared to leave the safety of my solitude for the wild of broken, fragile relationships. but i do it because i want my life to rival any story worth becoming a musical. i mean, heck, my life's got enough music already. it just needs a killer plot line. and that means risking for what's real.
Friday, June 24, 2011
why i don't write more often
the things that compel me to write are usually the miniscule observations on character that brilliantly glisten when peered at with a tilted head. however, these are usually secrets...
...the ego that pops out in the offhand comment invoking 'us' and 'them'...
...the immaturity evident in a grammatical slip-up...
...the fear of their own romances bolstering their inquiries into my relationship.
secrets are kept as such so as to not embarass the masquerader, and my commentary on the aforementioned matters, however innocent, would be almost certain to offend. and that, friends, is my own secret: although i notice unsavory bits of character all the time, i never point them out, because i am afraid to be attacked.
however, i need to write. so i will work beyond this fear. expect more soon.
...the ego that pops out in the offhand comment invoking 'us' and 'them'...
...the immaturity evident in a grammatical slip-up...
...the fear of their own romances bolstering their inquiries into my relationship.
secrets are kept as such so as to not embarass the masquerader, and my commentary on the aforementioned matters, however innocent, would be almost certain to offend. and that, friends, is my own secret: although i notice unsavory bits of character all the time, i never point them out, because i am afraid to be attacked.
however, i need to write. so i will work beyond this fear. expect more soon.
Monday, January 24, 2011
stars align
since i don't believe
the planets are gods
(even though we've named them after our false ideas of Him)
and whenever I stand
before electronic sliding doors
they don't sense my personhood
and i've never been able to input
that ESP channel
it must just mean
that things turn a little brighter
as one magnifies the sparkling facets of the other
and the other magnifies the sparkling facets of the One
and spinning in endless cycles of dimpled radiance
a universe swells in creation
uncontainable --
the notes and poems and footsteps and splatters
of a thousand characteristics shone
through as many mirrors
blessed by the Light
~ 1/23/11
the planets are gods
(even though we've named them after our false ideas of Him)
and whenever I stand
before electronic sliding doors
they don't sense my personhood
and i've never been able to input
that ESP channel
it must just mean
that things turn a little brighter
as one magnifies the sparkling facets of the other
and the other magnifies the sparkling facets of the One
and spinning in endless cycles of dimpled radiance
a universe swells in creation
uncontainable --
the notes and poems and footsteps and splatters
of a thousand characteristics shone
through as many mirrors
blessed by the Light
~ 1/23/11
Monday, January 10, 2011
romanza largo
in this context, horses must be called steeds
scary things are dangerous perils
pain means one is in distress
being helped is being saved
(despite insurmountable odds)
somehow, our hearts deserve such grandiose
somehow, love grows the importance of antiquated
elevated
terms
reserved for cathedrals
medievals
and holy
substantially, vintage means patience
firm respect for one’s craft
unhurried juices fermenting in so rare a pace
hours on hours enlivening flavor;
gathering scars of character by and
bygone eras releasing their cultural clout as
love
stands
on.
relevance is measured in these years
everyone knows it.
and we only reach the unfortunate height
of an elephant’s sight
when classic divorces creative
Friday, November 19, 2010
He sings
i am afraid i have no good words left to write.
i am afraid my dreams are only so because they're what i've seen so far
i am warm and weary with the insistence of complacency
but here is what i now know
poetry is how i speak in tongues.
(it is not always pretty or right
but God makes it holy if i claim it to paper)
we are mostly alone, even with others, and it's not an adequate excuse
no man is God.
life is all sorts of ragtime & complicated jazz chords
and when it's not, you're supposed to add the 9th
unless it's a sunset
or a smile
or the closest you conceive of love
then, you listen.
~ 10/31/10
i am afraid my dreams are only so because they're what i've seen so far
i am warm and weary with the insistence of complacency
but here is what i now know
poetry is how i speak in tongues.
(it is not always pretty or right
but God makes it holy if i claim it to paper)
we are mostly alone, even with others, and it's not an adequate excuse
no man is God.
life is all sorts of ragtime & complicated jazz chords
and when it's not, you're supposed to add the 9th
unless it's a sunset
or a smile
or the closest you conceive of love
then, you listen.
~ 10/31/10
Saturday, October 9, 2010
in which i provide a 10-step plan for men clueless about how to comfort their girlfriend/wife
1. Say, “I’m sorry.” Try variations, i.e. “I’m so, so sorry” or “Holy crap - - that really, really sucks”, but always go back to “I’m sorry” and always say it truthfully. And often.
2. Hold her. Even if she says she doesn’t want to be held. It usually means she needs to be held more. Do not rub her back or pet her hair or caress her face while holding her; she is not a cat, she is a human being. Be as strong and steady as is humanly possible. She needs something trustworthy to lean on, literally and metaphorically.
3. Enter the terrain of her passion. This does not mean you have to cry. But if she has been sobbing for a half-hour about the mean comment she overheard her co-worker make behind her back, a bland “Gosh, that stinks” just isn’t gonna cut it. Golden Rule #1 of comforting a woman: it’s not the problem that’s the problem. It’s how the problem makes her feel that’s the problem. If you’re not entering into her emotion at least a little bit, you don’t have any sort of handle on how or why this is bugging her.
4. If she needs to vent and starts doing so, agree with what she’s saying. She’s not asking for a philosophical debate or analysis of the situation, and even if she were, her emotional state is such that nothing in her wants to be forced to handle that right now. And don’t just nod. Form words, like “You are SO right” or “Wow, that’s incredibly true” or “That makes complete sense”.
5. Tell her in no uncertain terms that you will do everything in your power to make it right. And then do it. Send her flowers at work to get her mind off her stupid boss. Make a phone call, fight a battle, defend her honor however it needs to be done.
6. Make her feel worthwhile. How you do this depends on the girl, but it could mean listing all the qualities that made you fall for her, helping her finish 3 weeks’ worth of laundry that’s been stressing her out, or promising her a special date at the end of the week – or all three, if you’re brilliant.
7. Let her know that you completely believe she is in the right and you are on her side. Be vehement. She may try to fight you on this and say she was too harsh/sensitive/emotional. Stand your ground, fight for her rawest emotion, and be her biggest supporter. There may be things you do not agree with; trust me - now is not the time to make this known. Find something to agree with, even if it’s just how hurt she is. If she’s been upset for an hour, you can’t really deny this has wounded her, right?
8. Show your utter disgust of “the bad guy”. Whoever your sweetie is fighting against is also anti-you because you are so pro-her it’s insane. So let her know how much you can’t stand him/her/chocolate tofu/it.
9. DON’T HESITATE. Any reluctance to comfort only says to her that you don’t think she’s worth comforting…or that the situation doesn’t warrant comforting, which makes her feel stupid for caring so much, which, again, makes her think you don’t think she’s worth comforting. Act. Even if your attempt comes up short, you’re gaining brownie points by being so concerned that you can’t help but do something.
10. Pray with her. She needs more than you can give. Knowing this; stooping to this level of humility and yet leadership, because you are beside her, guiding and encouraging her back into a conversation with her God, is the epitome of comfort.
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