The invitation was your hand
Molding this mind, shaping these curves
Through fire and water I prevailed
Guided by the remembrance of your love
Recanting the former self of pomp and circumstance
Though ashen
I entered your harlequin halls
Fingertips brushing
The expectancy of your devotion
Yet
I was turned away
In disgrace and disbelief
By the stewards of your great fame
In this
State
Of humanity
"God looks down upon you"
Monday, February 1, 2010
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Revival
Words lift like the mist of dawn
Dark and damp upon the brow
Life breaks and blossoms through earth broken
Survival sidelined by beauty un-jolted
Eye captures but a fragment of each creation
Pulsing as blood buried beneath the skin
Faceless determination hopes in what is yet unseen
Hearts harbor the blurred memory of a dream
Walking and waking
Waiting and praying
Tender shoot repelling cold
Revival through death reborn
Dark and damp upon the brow
Life breaks and blossoms through earth broken
Survival sidelined by beauty un-jolted
Eye captures but a fragment of each creation
Pulsing as blood buried beneath the skin
Faceless determination hopes in what is yet unseen
Hearts harbor the blurred memory of a dream
Walking and waking
Waiting and praying
Tender shoot repelling cold
Revival through death reborn
Thursday, December 17, 2009
FoundWanted
A quaint rhyme and verse
Where the roads diverge...
In all the moments
I've read you, loved you
Breathlessly murmured lyric to enshrine you
Little did I see the web spread
Between the roads, and I
Sweet enchantments of your love
Countless threads of vapor
To hold our past in time
I tread softly
Bright distinct flakes engulf me
The remnants of where I've been
submersed and mislead
The sweat of the struggle
Brushing against the tapestry woven
Sweet broken lies spoken
In this blizzard of recompense
Clawing through the bramble
Reaching these ever numbing limbs
Desperate to be found wanted
Aware
With every step
Seeking a break in the storm
I risk finding myself in the clearing
Of the the two roads diverging
Subtle sickly web awaiting
A compass deluded to the point of returning
Where the roads diverge...
In all the moments
I've read you, loved you
Breathlessly murmured lyric to enshrine you
Little did I see the web spread
Between the roads, and I
Sweet enchantments of your love
Countless threads of vapor
To hold our past in time
I tread softly
Bright distinct flakes engulf me
The remnants of where I've been
submersed and mislead
The sweat of the struggle
Brushing against the tapestry woven
Sweet broken lies spoken
In this blizzard of recompense
Clawing through the bramble
Reaching these ever numbing limbs
Desperate to be found wanted
Aware
With every step
Seeking a break in the storm
I risk finding myself in the clearing
Of the the two roads diverging
Subtle sickly web awaiting
A compass deluded to the point of returning
Caustic Solution
There
In Abandon, it sits
Kept in isolation
The acid drip
The stopper pressed down
though labeled warning
holding focus
Livid memories unhinged
by the heart
broken
Long collecting dust
use and need
neglected
the caustic flame holding breath
Potent Singeing Solution
Tangible dis-abler in death
In Abandon, it sits
Kept in isolation
The acid drip
The stopper pressed down
though labeled warning
holding focus
Livid memories unhinged
by the heart
broken
Long collecting dust
use and need
neglected
the caustic flame holding breath
Potent Singeing Solution
Tangible dis-abler in death
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Destination Unknown/Destination Disconnect
One is reality, the other, reflection
Both mimic greater glories concealed
In reaching the destination
we find the journey forgotten
Trapped between the glass dome of reality
And the thin ice of harbored dreams
The naked forest cloaked in alabaster
Snow, circumvented relief
The disconnect of worlds
Not held by death
But life, awaiting patiently
Both mimic greater glories concealed
In reaching the destination
we find the journey forgotten
Trapped between the glass dome of reality
And the thin ice of harbored dreams
The naked forest cloaked in alabaster
Snow, circumvented relief
The disconnect of worlds
Not held by death
But life, awaiting patiently
Bridge of Forgotten Dreams
Faint through a mist of melancholy
Strong against grey bark and midnight blue
A figure rises beckoning
Through billowing smoke of blank memories
And I in turn
despondent
Lower the moat
Hands leveling fear against hope
Eyes piercing
Starlit. Revived.
Across the bridge
Of forgotten dreams
Strong against grey bark and midnight blue
A figure rises beckoning
Through billowing smoke of blank memories
And I in turn
despondent
Lower the moat
Hands leveling fear against hope
Eyes piercing
Starlit. Revived.
Across the bridge
Of forgotten dreams
Thursday, July 2, 2009
the quiet din of chaos
do you know what it's like to see the rocketship blast off to space as you stand on the ground, knowing you are the pilot meant to fly it?
i started writing this blog last year, at the beginning of a deep decent into the darkest night, and though I have survived to see the breaking rays of dawn, and experience its warmth enveloping the cold frost of night, i wonder what this waterfall of words on screen contributes in the end?
maybe it's naive to wish for comments or critism on a blog i was too scared to claim ownership of in the past, but i keep looking, thinking, "this will be the day, the moment, someone reads this and...?"
I used to think writing is all i would do- according to "naomi's life goals" written when i was 17, i should have my 2nd published book on its way and have been blissfully married for 2.5 years...
not quite. not now. not even close.
my future remains unknown, although i am not sure it is uncharted. i am discovering there is fine line between despair and discovery, and too often we give up hope when unseen faith is being proven through unseen action yet to be recognized.
There is a throbbing part of me that so greatly desires to be validated through the recognition of myself as a bonafide "writer," yet i know that is not where the MORE in life exists.
I don't know if anyone reads this, and i'm asking myself if i should even continue, yet for the all this thinking... nothing of significance has materilized. i am sitting in the quiet din of chaos as action, voice, diligence, risk... pass me bye
"he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose" J. Elliot
i started writing this blog last year, at the beginning of a deep decent into the darkest night, and though I have survived to see the breaking rays of dawn, and experience its warmth enveloping the cold frost of night, i wonder what this waterfall of words on screen contributes in the end?
maybe it's naive to wish for comments or critism on a blog i was too scared to claim ownership of in the past, but i keep looking, thinking, "this will be the day, the moment, someone reads this and...?"
I used to think writing is all i would do- according to "naomi's life goals" written when i was 17, i should have my 2nd published book on its way and have been blissfully married for 2.5 years...
not quite. not now. not even close.
my future remains unknown, although i am not sure it is uncharted. i am discovering there is fine line between despair and discovery, and too often we give up hope when unseen faith is being proven through unseen action yet to be recognized.
There is a throbbing part of me that so greatly desires to be validated through the recognition of myself as a bonafide "writer," yet i know that is not where the MORE in life exists.
I don't know if anyone reads this, and i'm asking myself if i should even continue, yet for the all this thinking... nothing of significance has materilized. i am sitting in the quiet din of chaos as action, voice, diligence, risk... pass me bye
"he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose" J. Elliot
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