Wednesday, February 25, 2015

A Rushing Flood, A White Water Bloom


There is an incredible thought forming in my mind.
A deep, dark and maddess within me; the fear of being left behind.

Slow and steady, foot by foot. To let it go, you have to keep moving.
Marching on, one foot in front of the other.

This road is long, and I hope it leads to heaven
'cause right now it seems to run straight through miles of clouded hell.

This is what I meant, when that I said that I was spent and I never wanted to let you down.
I'm sorry, so sorry if I let you down, it's not what I intended.
But our best laid plans slip away between shaken and feeble hands.

I know you don't understand, I don't always myself, but I can't change who I am.
You might not like me anymore, I'm not completely like I was before.
This house didn't burn down slowly, so I was forced to sell.

I try, but always seem to break, cause this uphill battle always lasts so long.
but this is me, this is my love, this is where I have to sleep.

The rain will fall again, this I know, and the sun to shine again.
It brings life; strength and power.
Bringing with it a rushing flood, a white water bloom.

Please, don't you worry!
All these problems aside, I think you taught me well.

Ghosts, though they come, howling, continuing to reappear
I've been given the torch, that leads lost souls from fear.

Passing the wondering eyes of the ones who choose to be left behind.
Turning my back to the sea, now painted red with sorrow
I face the mountains once stacked with fear.

I will climb and stand atop that mountain
To overcome the creatures that lurk below in the dark
cause he's the king and I desire to be the Lionheart.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Good Beginnings

Its good beginnings that make a positive difference. It's our Birthings that matter.
How we begin to perceive our bodies own abilities
Events that shake and shape us,
To feel our first impressions of the greater, wider world.

Naturally placed upon us, or thrown upon us like a knife in surgery
Trials are the reformers that we lack.
Having done away with rites and rituals, how do we draw that line in the sand
and cross over to the new Us?

Good god, let me give you my life.
Used to everyone's disapproval, this is all I can do.
When my back is sore from the labours.
Trying to keep the starving faithful in their stables

If there's one thing that I've learned, it's the comeback
It's not in the fall, you have to reach for it all.
We were born sick they say, creatures of darkness and treachery.
Pagans of the good-times.

Command me, Command me to be well
Only then I can be clean, can I be faithful.
How was I to know?
I hate to see hearts break

If there is one thing for me to learn, it's humility
Not that tomorrow will bring me new opportunities
The cold reality's that nothing is there for me.
I'm not scared to hurt anymore, I'm scared I won't feel the pain.



Saturday, February 21, 2015

He is...


He is often in transit, place to place, person to person, experience to experience.
Restless, he tries to live on many levels at once.
Contradiction appears to be his sustenance. His modes of expression are polar.  Whatever he is feeling, his first instinct is to disguise it. 

In a constant tug of war between wanting to go experience everything right now and "whoa, I need to process what just happened," he loves to be at the party but a party with contemplative people alternating between being crazy and discussing the meaning of life.

He abhors schedule and will not be prisoner to the clock.  Rarely will he take meals at set times or be regular on sleeping and waking, regularly forgetting his physical needs exist. 

Routine suppresses his energy and when subject to it may become restless and argumentative. Keep him guessing, he is piqued by uncertainty. This constantly stresses out friends who don't like straying from the original plan.

He owns the gift of gab, flirting between subjects and topics. Although his restlessness is evident in his conversation, he adores words, preferring them as weapons.  He tries to speak with a special glitter and radiance. Unfortunately, gossip intrigues him. Weighing in with scathing comments, especially in the sphere of morality. Don't take it too seriously though, this isn't an indicator of overall opinion.  His are situational and entirely different based on background.

Honest to a T, he tries to keep it tactful but real.  He would never intentionally lie, whatever he tells you he absolutely means and believes in that moment, but hold him to his word and keep up with reminding him, cause he's likely to forget a promise a few days later.

Debate excites him. He doesn't have to be right, though he will argue like he does, it's the process that gives him the trill.  Some resistance, some form of protest must be given before he can be satisfied and feel there is victory. Though people often confuse his need to process things out loud with either a search for advice or the search for argument.

Free flowing and spontaneous, highly volatile at times, he seems. He desires the impression of magnetism, to seem fascinating and many-sided, intellectual and wise.  He may feel, rather, to have lack of control and painfully aware of how people react, and perceive him.

His enthusiasm draws him thin, enterprising on many things.  Launching many projects with great initiative out the gate, he struggles to stay on course. Boring to quickly, he will have thousands of ideas he's like never to follow up on. Once the main thrust of a challenge has been met he, unfortunately, begins to look for the next challenge, something new and different. 

Intellect and imagination are as important to him as realism and practicality; interested in a wide range of experiences, from classical concerts to your neighborhood roller rink, he has to mix things up.  

Eager to take blame on himself, he does not do well with failure, triggering depressed emotions. Failure, it seems, confirms his secret feelings of inadequacy.  This cyclothemia is short lived, as another interest zooms in to send his emotions soaring once again.

He is a hard worker, an unstoppable force of productivity and creativity, for the short stretch of twenty minutes. A mental challenge encourages his best work.  Though play trumps work anytime. He begrudgingly accepts Peter Pan as his proposed spirit animal.  

Within him wells deep curiosity and fascination with story.  He may ask you a million questions without realizing how intrusive they may seem and beg for the most telling stories.  However, hold some information in reserve, mystery is tantalizing and indicates secret depth. Remember, he is eternally curious.

He loves love and will take it wherever he can find it, gravitating to new strangers often, the stranger the better. Touch and time are his modes of expression. A bear hug or a meaningful conversation means the world to him.  He will pull one into conversation, overflowing with ideas and interesting experiences, attempting to get them laughing as soon as possible. Unfortunately this can mean everyone thinking he's flirting with them, all the time.

Unbreakably calm and laid back his actions are often confused as indecision.  Rather, it is the time spent with him, more then the activity that means something.  However, he will express his lack of desire to participate in an activity he doesn't like.  

Extremes or fanatical conviction in religion or politics turn him off.  He is liberal and tolerant by nature, able to see multiple sides to any question. Narrow or close-minded people won't go far with him. However, he owns surprisingly strong in opinions and beliefs despite his easy-going nature.

He needs significantly more alone time then other extroverts, he wants to be alone, but, ya know, with other people nearby. He is fiercely independent, but bored without company.

Stubborn beyond belief, he may bite off more then he can chew... and continue chewing, because plot and because he is a walking contradiction in almost every way but wouldn't change a thing, even if he could.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Messy People

I love messy people.  The type of people who don't always have their shit together.
The ones with vices. Who, in whatever they lack, make up for in unadulterated realness.
A rawness, carved out by the chaos of the life that surrounds them.

I love people the people that stick out.
The ones who don't always choose the "correct" path.  The ones with unwavering convictions and an integrity all their own.

I love grey people.  The ones who would never claim to have "the answer".  The ones that always question, always observe, always yearn to learn. They, who don't think in black and white but try to understand.

I love people who dissolve convention and model different standards.  The ones who speak with words wrought with colour and intensity.  The ones who seek truth in art, and let music guide their soul. The sparks of creativity in an increasingly desolate world.

I love broken people.  Strong in their own ways, but may need a leg up.  The ones who've seen things unspeakable and yearn to never see another without a smile one their face.  They, who remind me that the fires that soften the oldest potato are the same flames that harden the egg.

I love those who love because it's the only thing they have left.  The ones who are just a little bit naive but don't let it get them down.

I love....

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Setting Fire

I stand in a precarious spot.  A middle ground, where I have a voice but do not know how to use it.
I am White. I am Male. I have lived a life of relative privilege.

Yet I see injustice. I see the pain of Black brothers and sisters. I have first-handedly witnessed the micro-aggressions and even the out right racism shown against them.  I want to scream in rage towards people's outright hatred and smash the well-meaning ignorance that plagues many people I call 'friend' in their faces.

But sometimes I am a pawn in the game. Sometimes, I don't stand up when I should. Sometimes, I let the little things slip by.

Why is it White folk only pay attention when they fear they have something to lose or until it can no longer be ignored?!  Willing to turn our backs to the troubles of our fellow humans until there is a corpse lying on our doorstep!  

I am undone. Trying to put it all together, where do I fit into this mess.  I woke up this morning White.  I will never know what it means to feel the weight of the scientifically simple, genetic disposition to a higher count of melanin. The one that socially bears the weight of millennia of oppression.

I watch fat, wind-bagged old men say there is no Institutional Racism.  What more blatant example is there then a Black Commander in Chief too caught up in the middle ground to say much else then there "are good people on all sides of this debate" and "respect the rule of law"!? Of course there are well-meaning people on the side of white supremacy, thats the banality of Evil -- the Devil wears the prettiest, most appealing of smiles.

I witness the challenge my friends have born trying to narrate racial rage, racial pain, racial fear, in the hopes that White folks with understand. I don't know that burden first hand but I've seen the resentment when it turns up in failure. I feel the anger that they have to do it in the first place!

I am guilty. Of times of ignorance, inaction, and anger, so much anger.  Especially, towards the faith system I once believed in so much.  How can a group of people who proclaim to be so rooted in LOVE be so grounded in things that are so not LOVE. Teachings that are so far from the truth and turn a blind eye if not promote so many awful things; sexism, homophobia, intolerance of other belief systems, economic disparity and greed, military atrocities just to name a few.  When will people learn that their political party promotes nothing to do with their GOD?

I am saddened that I have felt joy at the thought of one day seeing the faces of some people who believed themselves to be so rooted in the name Jesus have his back turned on them, even if I am one to join them.

I have censored myself for so long. Unwilling to set a flame to burn against me, especially if I don't feel I have as strong an argument to throw water back on it.  What honour or dignity is left in that? I can't stay quiet any longer for fear of man. I can no longer silently hear people scoff "Ha, that's a fly-over continent.", about a place that has taken so much of my heart....

My mind wants peace but my heart wants justice. Yet... "How can we obey the 'rule of law' when it holds its foot against our neck while pleading with us to affirm the path to our own destruction? Humans can only be kicked in the stomach for so long, bullied for so long before one day they stagger to their feet, and you see reflected back at you, the results of your own unresolved monstrousness."

I do not know they answer. All I can see is dark days ahead if we remain complacent and inactive.