Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Rough draft

There is this thing about life.
The thing they don't teach in schools
Or churches
Or office buildings



Because it is too wild
And too full
To be contained
In any edited text



There is magic that exists
Just waiting
To give itself



It has a heartbeat
And it finds yours


And there is no stopping how far it
Will unfold


All you have to do
Is leave enough spaces
Enough unedited places



For it to slip in unnoticed
And upend everything
You thought you knew


You notice
The periods become cages
Because there are no endings


The synonyms are lies
Because they try too hard



The paragraphs trying to make presentable what cannot be presented



To in-dent
What cannot be dented
Truth has this way of flying free


Everything handed to you
In a manual
Meant to make you Good



And Readable
Up-ends itself


Because Good has fire
And Life
And a wild love
In its eyes


The kind of burning ecstasy
That makes you throw the books away
Those Watered down versions
Of what flames around you



Uncensored, unedited, unraveled unending


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Finding

lyrics by Neil Young

I want to live
I want to give




I've been a miner for a heart of gold





It's these expressions that I never give




That keep me searchin




For a heart of gold




And I'm gettin old




I've been to Hollywood




I've been to Redwood




I've crossed the ocean




For a heart of gold




It's been in my mind




It's such a fine line




That keeps me searchin




For a heart of gold




I've been a miner




For a heart of gold






Sunday, March 2, 2014

Fly free

A wild spirit
You soar free



No one can stop you
God knows I've tried



With the warnings of impending danger
You fly over



Your wind drowning the sound of
Limitation



With the frustrated outbursts about the fragile things breaking
Sometimes that fragile thing is me



But the gears turning in your head
Are loud enough


That the breaking is only a background
I thank god for that


Because to someone who is scared to fly
And is doing their best to hold on
It can feel like you are their undoing
As they topple from unsteady legs



But don't you listen
Never stop long enough that you
Fall out of your sky


Don't worry about me
Wolf child
I will catch up to you soon



Once I remember



How to leap

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday, January 31, 2014

The Plain Truth

"Some infinities are bigger than others."

The guy who said that must have lived on a plain. Where a sea of grass reaches long for its horizon. Where traveling is one enduring moment with only the rhythm of day and night to remind that time is still moving.



We're walking the empty quiet that is Fort Richardson, a place erected and filled to capacity with blue coated soldiers who would
reconstruct the South after the war to end all wars. Who would tame the uncontrollable frontier with its wild natives who wouldn't settle.
Deer tracks cover the ground inside the fort, and outside the walls the herds of deer watch us unafraid as we pass.



The only remnants of the chaos that reverberated here are neatly framed and hung in rows for us to idly read as a side note to our day.
And when you read the stories, look at how the hospital looms largest in this makeshift village, there is one thing that etches itself clear on every plaque engraving with too many numbers and too many commas,




War is costly.
Most of all in lives




Fear grasping at straws, willing to pay any cost for the holy grail of a secure and prosperous destiny, hoping to quench itself with words penned permanent in ink or walls built high in stone




Willing to let those walls keep out the world,

Until even the wide expanse of the plains can feel claustrophobic




Infinity can feel awful small inside a mind that believes someone else holds it's fragile destiny.




I think how war is not just on battlefields with grand uniforms and flying flags but in homes, in hearts, beating themselves fast and furious in the heat of injustice.
I watch my children go to war with each other, quick to flame over a perceived infraction




I tell my oldest how the forts I've erected in my own life compromise the integrity of my soil,




and how when they finally fall, I am that open plain, alive again, the spirited deer's hooves drumming their rhythm right over me.




I tell her how slippery the slope of entitlement can be and and how an open mind reaches as far as this plain can stretch




But mostly, I tell her how your destiny can be held by no man, no matter how powerful he seems. It is held by your God, whose power runs so deep and wide these plains offer only a glance into its expanse.




Some infinities are bigger than other infinities, darling, remember that and the perceived powers of man dissolve into the infinite plain of love that is your creator, your only true destiny .

Remember that and peace will find you in all your days.





Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone


Location:Jacksboro, tx