Spring/Fall 2005

10/05

We all go to the grave
Of course, not by accident
And everything ends
Not because I finished it
Or because you made it so that
There came an ending to
My story
or Yours

Its all the same
Whether you like that or not
The leaves are gonna grow and regrow on
That tree the rings are gonna increase
In strength the roots will anchor
Anchor underneath the soil
Will be the death of us all.

An inevitable return
Of course life means something more
More than you dare imagine
Why does that thought cause you discomfort?

I see you looking at your watch
Time’s all the same
Everywhere and every generation.
It’s you who changes and acts and reacts

Detract.

I cry because I want to know my Creator
I cry because I wish I knew why
I wish I understood
But I’m too weak to look at

My Own Reflection

The Creator of all that is within and
Without me
What am I and how Great are You!
And you let me breathe.
Every day a chance to baptize
To baptize and become
A something who knows not herself
And sees everything but sight.

~

A glance into my old mindset. Thank GOD for epiphanies. for ups and downs. happiness and sorrow. and thank God for moving on. for being able to move on. I hope.

~

4/7/2005
A day...

"You come into this world thinking you can live, you wake up every morning and go to class. After classes are done for the day you attend your ritualistic meetings and pat yourself on the back for indulging in the workings of the world.
Meetings and such end, and you meet your friends for a casual, kickin-it-back dinner. With a materially satisfied abdomen you head off to your room or the library - depending on whichever location provides more comfort for the pursuit of academia. Distracted by the utter boredum flowing from the pages by which your eyes have been seiged, you welcome Distractions and jump up every time an even remotely familiar being floats by. The sun set a while ago and it's way past the first awakening.
You head back to your room, or if you were already there, you step outside your room and look around to see with whom you might share the Woes of the Day, the Walkings of a Moment, the Highlights of a Twenty Four Hour Heartbeat.
You're talking to them but they don't hear you. They hear you but they aren't listening. They're listening but they aren't feeling. They're feeling but they aren't understanding. They just aren't. And you aren't either. So you turn around - or at least your mind makes that 180 degree turn and steps back inside your room. A small, light, levitated step towards the confinements of infinitely vague introspection. Something you'd rather do without. At least for one day. Please spare yourself. Let yourself spare yourself -- lose yourself in the moment just this once. One moment too soon?"

^*^*^
3/10

My mortal wants, desires have resigned
to my feeble will
Satan mocks me.
And goodness suffocates my fickle virtue
Choking out the venom within
black, thick and damp.
Burning against my skin,
Down my bones.
Through my veins-
Into my heart.
Caustic heart
Succumbing my emotions to
Vileness
The essence of what once was
or of what I thought it could be
Gone
Down a narrow, infinte vacumn
A vacumn so many others have entered
Hoping we are not barred therein
Forever

But the vacumn only crystalizes icicles
Absolute Zero
Shivers of empty, numb, hellish
Feeling
Lessnes
a cadaver.
a stone.

~

4/13/05

I looked at him blankly
I looked through him softly
My eyes rolled at me
And I looked back at myself
"What's gotten into you"
Rather, what has left?
But I looked beyond him again
And beyond the finite reality
Upon which I now levitate

A weighty heart
Ought to anchor to immeasurable depths
Under oceans and earths of abuse
And misuse
Unfounded exploitation
An imperialist's dream
And yet I'm floating
In heretical levity
And the wind is blowing
Blowing away particles of sense
They too are gone now

So I look at him
Though he has been looking at me
Looking through me,
Beyond me

Yet neither of us know.

I see him floating
A mutual denunciation of gravity

~

April, 2005
Redefinition
Reconstruction
striking a hammer down the cement mold
shattering a finite certainty to pieces
wisps of dust carrying broken understandings
Disappear, leaving nothing behind
Nothing yet something
A vision, a reality
A truth to learn from
A truth that invites novel thought
Redefinition, reconstruction
This time, with wisps of used understanding
We fancy calling it wisdom
Others mock it as a mistake
But life isn't a mistake
It is a mold that has to be broken, ultimately reshaped, perhaps shattered again.
And again.
Until the day we die.

~
(less of a poem, more of a reflection)
2/17/05

Relationships come and go
People move on and connections that were
once embedded in the core of
human interaction slip away
People come and go.
Some leave an irreplacable trace of
raw beauty with the footsteps they etchned
in one's soul
Others cause one blatant harm.
In all mortal endeavors involving
interaction with other humans,
an element of risk portends its eerie glow.
Chance tempts one into novel spontaneity
Or even intricate commitment

Trust makes a mockery of us all

One can leave any relationship with the
forced reassurance of knowing oneself better
as a result of establishing that connection.
Or one can withdraw from that same relationship
knowing that one had, in essence, been in a trap.

Mortality, the feebles woes of human feeling,
the essence of creative interaction -- to what end?

In the end, all that matters is not
on the surface of man's decadence.
It is not about fables of emotional growth
at the risk of the paramount of one's existence: FAITH.