"The One"

I am not feeling any sort of intense emotion right now, but I'm feeling like October 25, 2012 is pivotal in my personal development, so I have to write something.

I think people believe in fairy tales a little more than they'd like to own up to. People keep telling me that you'll just know when you've found 'the one.' But, I've felt like I've found the 'the one' three times now, and I don't care to share how that went for me. Please don't judge me if I think that some just marry because hormones confuse the living daylight out of them, and others, like me, get old and tired, and latch onto the health benefits.

I don't want any of this resurrected, but I'm sure it will be when kingdom come. As far as I can see and tell, I've been separating the the spirit from the body's will. I am no Eve, and I loathe her likenesses because there is no place for them in this world. I can transcend fear and hate but not passion. And, isn't this the very thing that has perplexed men for ages. Why can't we control this body, knowing we are not it? We are spirit.

I'm surprised by how disgruntled I was with trying to alter my mind and body to desire singleness. I see more evil than good that comes out of romantic relationships. It looks like the ultimate cage.

Unglued

This is response poem to receiving love and acceptance from Rock Mcilvain, a new father figure in my life.

I couldn't quite continue the way I was,
and to my knowledge, nothing was wrong,
but I was stuck--
stuck with this feeling that nothing mattered
much

It's such a sad place to be really,
that 'I could do better, but I don't really want to' state.
And, everything around you is designed to atropy
without you, the gardener, to set it right

I stayed there.

And, then I looked at what I could be, and I prayed.

And, I stayed there.

And, then I reasoned why I should change, asked for prayer, prayed.

And, then stayed there.

Well, not really stayed. I was fine for a day or maybe a few hours,
but then the sadness and despondency grew in me again.

Why do we with all our needs met, education and choices feel sad?
Love's waxed cold.
My core was dried, solidified.
My earth was not the moving flames that it should be until he said
he loved me.

And, my heart returned to what it was, a flowering strub
for beauty and touch -- moving the life and the blood
for others

for others.

---

A New Thing

I've always seen the light in my eyes as the good pleasure of others.
What does it serve for me, when I hardly see myself.

I am a new thing, a being, a flame of love.
Shall I burn or I warm you?

The Swell This World Creates: A love poem

I wrote another poem a few days ago because I have entered this illusion of love or the to give love and be with someone. We are all connected anyway...

Update: 01/23/13 The love was not an illusion. It is real. And, the appropriate title for this poem is "The Well This World Creates."

The Swell/Well This World Creates

Tell me something
Tell me some thing
because I crave your words
like a warm evening breeze by the sea

Tell me some thing
because I crave your presence--
like rose petals fallen and crushed
on a walkway

Your voice moves me,
and you walk by oblivious--

Speak I pray of your old ways
of sitting in silence
battling thoughts of grief
as you compose beauty on
the keys I long to touch
while sitting next to you
or inside you

Tell me your stories
of how you came to be here
a careless child that I would love
to discipline but cannot help but to
shake my head and smile...

...Where did you come from?

When you lean in with a fraction of
intent in your eyes
I am utterly consumed
I could go up in smoke!
In your gaze everything passes
in waves
It's difficult to imagine I am
still
trying to figure out how you do that

You hold my attention
with your intention to listen
for just a little while

And, I cannot give rhyme or reason
to what is happening to me
And, I have cast off fear
to love you
And, though you may retreat and
retreat
I cannot tire of entreating
you to be with me
because my delight
is just to be -- in your gaze.

---

I've never felt so okay.
I've never felt like the world could end,
and everything is perfect
because I'm with you.

When I found you
still a child inside
still working our the chaos of being
in your mind

I would sing to you the truth
you are perfect in my eyes
Perfection
Perfectly beautiful
An effort at
Divinity
A hopeful soul
A wounded knee
A pleasant balm
oils, waters free
freely flowing
and part of Me.
I love you.

Shane, Cameron, Machidiel.

The Faithful Pen

The faithful pen sits waiting for me to but glance in his direction. He's been a constant companion with each passing year and gazes longingly in my direction.

The much neglected pen.

I took him up and kissed him gently on the head, remembering his smell, remembering the feeling of being with a friend with whom no time could pass.

My long cherished pen...

I took up again today, knowing my way was to take the road less traveled. Knowing that my pen would often be my only companion along the way.

A Reason to Sing

Inspired by a thought that's been on my mind. What would living 100% for the kingdom look like in my life?

So, I'm going to exhale again,
and this time when I do,
I'm going to hope that I smell something other than
the half rotten cake and fried chicken on my breath

All this time I've been thinking that I've had something to prove,
and now I realize I'm just blessed.
With all I'm going through, all my biggest hits and misses
Sort of blew my way,

And, this is the year that I feared.
The short end of the stick, am I a millionaire?
When heaven meets earth,
God's riches can't be defined.

I'm trusted with what I can work with, and focus in on
so I...I decided to sit down
and watch my life unwind.
I've never been at the reigns, really.

This Poetry

And so I'm left with a question.
What are words if not spoken?
What are ideas without direction?

As I sit here recollecting;
All the measures I've been reenacting
instead of preparing my
impacting sonnet to our Statement without pauses

I was looking for the clauses
that would bring me some sort of notoriety
I was looking to the words that would write
me out of poverty

The poverty in my mind--
my disconnection from eternity
the aftermath of my insecurities or
victory over death--truth, life, liberty.

In that peaceful endless summer
surrounded by the Sun
I'll be singing praises
I could not have dreamt to've sung

This poetry. This poetry I have no rights to.
And, if I'm failing in my confession.
Then, they'll be no addressing the issue
when I'm wrestling with...my last breath.

Where to go from here

Monetize your gift like Jefferson Bethke.
2/2/12 - let me amend this. The purpose should be His gain.