Love you from a distance isn't easy when I'm standing so close to you. To be honest, it is painful.
When you are near my heart beats furiously and my stomac, full of butterflies, churns anxiously, anticipating the moment when you will leave.
Once you move from sight that hole returns. that gaping hole in teh center of my chest with its searing edges eating through the whole of me as I want to be truly seen by your eyes.
It is a painful reality to love without reciprocation having given your warmth to someon only to stand in the cold outside their front door unreceived.
Somtimes, like a mut, you crawl to their back door to partak of whatever scraps they may throw, but their garbage leaves you unsatisfied--still hungering, still thirsting for more--their love.
Yet still, without reserve you give yoruself over to them. Taking the pain of budding romance deep within yourself. You stand garnished with a crown of thorns holdign tight to emotions taht are only to be mentioned in drunken moment, called out in times whn no one, not even you, will fully remember what was said. You are left standing in the dark of this cathartic moment clothed in a lingering sense of discontentment and embarassment.
Why do you love given the circumstances?
You do so because it is your purpose to love. Your life is a pursuit of love, a gift of love, a reality of loves actions. Unfortunately, in the world, our love is imperfect and often misdirected. Thus, there are tiems when we love what we do not need, cannot have and should not want. That said, the love between a man and a woman can be beautiful when pruned to the mirror image of Christ and the Church.
So, I wait.
I wait for the moment when this seed becomes a rose and these thorns, while still a struggle, are redeemed with beauty. A beauty not our own but centered upon our 1st love as we look out together in a purposeful moment.
As I wait for you to be ready, loving you from a distance isn't easy when we are standing so close. In fact, it is painful, but this love, in time, will bring to fruition life's beauty.
Love.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
[Dear Love] 12/17/09
Dear Love,
This ain't the 1st time I've written you,
But you already know that.
I'm sure that your mailbox is pretty fat,
Fat like a bear in winter.
Letters just hybernatin',
Waitin' for you to respond.
But you, Love,
You're like waitin' for a court date.
You're PO and Lawyer assure you it's comin' soon,
But in your cell you wait and wait
For a sentence of hope not impending doom.
Usually your messages are far and few,
But every now and gain one comes like a car crash
and BOOM,
You are in LOVE.
Real talk though.
The last time you came to visit
You broke my favorite coffee mug,
You know teh one with the heart
That said, "L.O.V.E."
I let you use it cause
You were convinced it was your name,
But it wasn't for you,
You ain't got that much fame, I think,
Anyhow,
Your response was kind of lame,
Yous said,
"If you weren't just letting anyone use it
Might no have been so fragile,
So easily broken.
One more drop and BAM its gone.
That's your fault and I can't
Replace it.
Suppose you gonna have to pick up the pieces and
Face it.
But now that I think about it
You just might be right.
I suppose in themoment
Emotion Won
Got Defensive
Would rather fight.
So, Love,
When you get this letter,
Please forgive me
I've been careless
And now that
I'm broken reality
I see.
I'll do some work
a little healing
And next time you come around
Please,
Don't forget me.
Your always welcome
In your hometown of
H.E.A.R.T.
Sincerely, Yours
This ain't the 1st time I've written you,
But you already know that.
I'm sure that your mailbox is pretty fat,
Fat like a bear in winter.
Letters just hybernatin',
Waitin' for you to respond.
But you, Love,
You're like waitin' for a court date.
You're PO and Lawyer assure you it's comin' soon,
But in your cell you wait and wait
For a sentence of hope not impending doom.
Usually your messages are far and few,
But every now and gain one comes like a car crash
and BOOM,
You are in LOVE.
Real talk though.
The last time you came to visit
You broke my favorite coffee mug,
You know teh one with the heart
That said, "L.O.V.E."
I let you use it cause
You were convinced it was your name,
But it wasn't for you,
You ain't got that much fame, I think,
Anyhow,
Your response was kind of lame,
Yous said,
"If you weren't just letting anyone use it
Might no have been so fragile,
So easily broken.
One more drop and BAM its gone.
That's your fault and I can't
Replace it.
Suppose you gonna have to pick up the pieces and
Face it.
But now that I think about it
You just might be right.
I suppose in themoment
Emotion Won
Got Defensive
Would rather fight.
So, Love,
When you get this letter,
Please forgive me
I've been careless
And now that
I'm broken reality
I see.
I'll do some work
a little healing
And next time you come around
Please,
Don't forget me.
Your always welcome
In your hometown of
H.E.A.R.T.
Sincerely, Yours
Friday, January 8, 2010
True Love
As I sit and read the writing of young people in our programs I realize that we are all the same. We are all longing for love. We are all playing the game using all of the defensive and offensive techniques that we've watched from those who have come before us. We play the game in hopes of not being caught with our pants down. No one wants to be vulnerable because no one wants to get hurt. Unfortunatley, vulnerability is how we truly love.
Love isn't about emotion. Love isn't about catering to feelings of like or dislike. Love isn't about our flesh, these carnal desires. Love is about sacrifice. When you love someone you are willing to give up your own personal wants and desires when they aren't in the best interest for the one whom you desire.
Love isn't the stuff of Hollywood movies. True love is the stuff that we hide. Love is sometimes ugly. It is the grit and toil, the mundane of life, the things that we often don't want to do but should. Love isn't easy. You don't love if you want an easy life. You lust if you want a passion of ease. You lust if you want to be physically fulfilled, but truly lonely. You love if you want to be purposeful, if you want to care, if you want to hope, if you want to share, if you can accept struggle, if you aren't afraid of sacrifice. Love is beautiful, but sometimes the realities of it can be harsh, even ugly.
True love is sacrifice.
Love isn't about emotion. Love isn't about catering to feelings of like or dislike. Love isn't about our flesh, these carnal desires. Love is about sacrifice. When you love someone you are willing to give up your own personal wants and desires when they aren't in the best interest for the one whom you desire.
Love isn't the stuff of Hollywood movies. True love is the stuff that we hide. Love is sometimes ugly. It is the grit and toil, the mundane of life, the things that we often don't want to do but should. Love isn't easy. You don't love if you want an easy life. You lust if you want a passion of ease. You lust if you want to be physically fulfilled, but truly lonely. You love if you want to be purposeful, if you want to care, if you want to hope, if you want to share, if you can accept struggle, if you aren't afraid of sacrifice. Love is beautiful, but sometimes the realities of it can be harsh, even ugly.
True love is sacrifice.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
if only
if only my words could sway you
if only i could gather your love
gather it like daisies in a meadow
placing their yellow faces within my heart shaped vase
if only my love could open your eyes
if only i could show you
pulling away the drapes from your eyes
that you would see what i see
"if only" is a sad statement
because it only means "i can't"
++
its just one of those days...
this too shall pass
if only i could gather your love
gather it like daisies in a meadow
placing their yellow faces within my heart shaped vase
if only my love could open your eyes
if only i could show you
pulling away the drapes from your eyes
that you would see what i see
"if only" is a sad statement
because it only means "i can't"
++
its just one of those days...
this too shall pass
Sunday, January 3, 2010
From a Distance
Loving you from a distance isn’t easy when I’m standing so close to you.
To be honest, it is painful.
When you are near my heart beats furiously and my stomach, full of butterflies, churns anxiously anticipating the moment when you will leave. Once you move from sight that hole returns. That gaping hole in the center of my chest reappears with its searing edges eating through the whole of me as I wait to be truly seen by your eyes.
It is a painstaking reality to love without reciprocation having given your warmth to someone only to stand in the cold outside their front door without receipt.
Sometimes, like a mutt, you crawl to their back door to partake of whatever scraps they may throw, but their garbage leaves you unsatisfied—still hungering, still thirsting for their love.
Yet still, without reserve, you give yourself over to them. Taking the hurt of budding romance deep within yourself. You stand garnished with a crown of thorns holding tight to emotions that are only to be mentioned in drunken moments. Called out in times when no one, not even you, will fully remember what was said. There you are left standing in the dark of this cathartic moment clothed in a lingering sense of discontentment and embarrassment.
Yet, you still love.
Why do you love given the circumstances? You do so because it is your purpose to love. Your life is a pursuit of love, a gift of love, a reality of true loves actions. Unfortunately, in the world our love is imperfect and often misdirected. There are times when we love what we do not need, cannot have and should not want. That said, the love between a man and a woman can be beautiful when pruned to the mirror image of Christ and the Church.
So, I wait. I wait for the moment when this seed becomes a rose and these thorns, while still a struggle, are redeemed with beauty. A beauty not our own, but centered upon our 1st love as we look out together in a purposeful moment.
As I wait for you to be ready, loving you from a distance isn’t easy when we are standing so close. In fact, it is painful, but this battle , in time, will bring to fruition life’s beauty—love.
To be honest, it is painful.
When you are near my heart beats furiously and my stomach, full of butterflies, churns anxiously anticipating the moment when you will leave. Once you move from sight that hole returns. That gaping hole in the center of my chest reappears with its searing edges eating through the whole of me as I wait to be truly seen by your eyes.
It is a painstaking reality to love without reciprocation having given your warmth to someone only to stand in the cold outside their front door without receipt.
Sometimes, like a mutt, you crawl to their back door to partake of whatever scraps they may throw, but their garbage leaves you unsatisfied—still hungering, still thirsting for their love.
Yet still, without reserve, you give yourself over to them. Taking the hurt of budding romance deep within yourself. You stand garnished with a crown of thorns holding tight to emotions that are only to be mentioned in drunken moments. Called out in times when no one, not even you, will fully remember what was said. There you are left standing in the dark of this cathartic moment clothed in a lingering sense of discontentment and embarrassment.
Yet, you still love.
Why do you love given the circumstances? You do so because it is your purpose to love. Your life is a pursuit of love, a gift of love, a reality of true loves actions. Unfortunately, in the world our love is imperfect and often misdirected. There are times when we love what we do not need, cannot have and should not want. That said, the love between a man and a woman can be beautiful when pruned to the mirror image of Christ and the Church.
So, I wait. I wait for the moment when this seed becomes a rose and these thorns, while still a struggle, are redeemed with beauty. A beauty not our own, but centered upon our 1st love as we look out together in a purposeful moment.
As I wait for you to be ready, loving you from a distance isn’t easy when we are standing so close. In fact, it is painful, but this battle , in time, will bring to fruition life’s beauty—love.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Free Write: Randomly Thoughtful
Sittin' in a room full of sinners and saints
Judged as delinquents, wearin' jumpers, caged.
But the only sinner I see is the one inside of me
Society, so blind, these angels they'll never see.
++
Wishing we were on a beach
Feeling soft sand beneath my feet
Sunshine on my face
Replacing the dull with radiant grace
++
Sunshine on my face in the dead of winter fills my soul with your golden goodness. These rays of light like arms lift me to a place that transcends the worry of the day. In the light of your love these nightmares become as fiments unseen. My darkness is disheveled with the pulling of drapes from eyes the windows to my soul enabling refreshing water to fill this empty cavern washing clean these cold stone walls of mud.
++
Heard this before in a ten week class where my professor came garnished with a bow tie. How hard can it be? Open your mouth, speak, close your mouth, and move along. That said, i suppose practice makes permanent and ill-preparatino can leave you speechless hearing only the chatter of a crowd dismayed with yoru presentation. So, I'll disappear into the crevices of my mind inviting the characters of my imagination to come out to play until we finish.
++
Monday.
I love Mondays!
A fresh start to old habits. a clean slate to demolish historical lists of to dos that sit upon my throne, a 6x4 desk decorated with keyboard, screen and phone. Yes, I have a phone. It has voicemail too. I'm really not that important. That said, I also have busness cards and a company email. While I'm not essential, I at least feel important and that makes all the difference. Well, it at least makes a difference on Monday.
++
Do what I say and not as I do. My parents must have had this motto at some point. I don't think that believe as such anymore. Mauybe that is why I had a hard time listening. I think recently they've come to realize that I am not blind. I'm not deaf either, but my actions my have conveyed otherwise. Presently they talk a lot less and hide a lot more. One would think its because I'm older, but I honestly think it is because they are older and are tired of repeating theirselves and/exhausted from defending theirselves.
Judged as delinquents, wearin' jumpers, caged.
But the only sinner I see is the one inside of me
Society, so blind, these angels they'll never see.
++
Wishing we were on a beach
Feeling soft sand beneath my feet
Sunshine on my face
Replacing the dull with radiant grace
++
Sunshine on my face in the dead of winter fills my soul with your golden goodness. These rays of light like arms lift me to a place that transcends the worry of the day. In the light of your love these nightmares become as fiments unseen. My darkness is disheveled with the pulling of drapes from eyes the windows to my soul enabling refreshing water to fill this empty cavern washing clean these cold stone walls of mud.
++
Heard this before in a ten week class where my professor came garnished with a bow tie. How hard can it be? Open your mouth, speak, close your mouth, and move along. That said, i suppose practice makes permanent and ill-preparatino can leave you speechless hearing only the chatter of a crowd dismayed with yoru presentation. So, I'll disappear into the crevices of my mind inviting the characters of my imagination to come out to play until we finish.
++
Monday.
I love Mondays!
A fresh start to old habits. a clean slate to demolish historical lists of to dos that sit upon my throne, a 6x4 desk decorated with keyboard, screen and phone. Yes, I have a phone. It has voicemail too. I'm really not that important. That said, I also have busness cards and a company email. While I'm not essential, I at least feel important and that makes all the difference. Well, it at least makes a difference on Monday.
++
Do what I say and not as I do. My parents must have had this motto at some point. I don't think that believe as such anymore. Mauybe that is why I had a hard time listening. I think recently they've come to realize that I am not blind. I'm not deaf either, but my actions my have conveyed otherwise. Presently they talk a lot less and hide a lot more. One would think its because I'm older, but I honestly think it is because they are older and are tired of repeating theirselves and/exhausted from defending theirselves.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Free Write: Somtimes Things Vibe
Sometimes things vibe.
Sometimes their are no vibes just the reverberation of feelings and emotions left unarticulated and thus unrequited.
I hate reverb, but it is so telling of what is going on beneath the surface. The messages of sound waves unseen, but suddenly heard can be shocking. The impact of that shock can be dynamic and/or detrimental. It really just depends on the house and what damage is sustained. If the damage is catastrophic will you rebuild or simply move on? What if the damage appears minimal and you repair but years from now it is found unfit, have you wasted your time?
Sometimes things vibe.
Other times things seriously vibrate, no, seriously shake like an earthquake.
I am waiting for the ground to stop moving beneath my feet, but until it does I will come out from under this table, climb on top and ride this shock like a wave. I know its dangerous, but I am willing to take the risk. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words can ever scar me. Am I too blind to see the signs? Am I waiting in vain?
Sometimes things vibe.
Today there was no vibe.
A ten minute car ride left me feeling helpless, no, hopeless. Clinging to you the way a hungry child clings to their mother's breast. Pining for the smallest amount of redemption in our conversation. That said your subtle defenses leave me hurt and yearning for your approval, no, your recognition that everything is better than fine. Many have the power to upset me, but only you have the power to hurt. Ignorance, no, a lack of desire to see enables me to overlook your sly remarks for the time, but they will bite me in my sleep. Your words are my bed bugs and your lack of action the essence of my nightmares.
Sometimes things vibe, but today you shook me empty.
Sometimes their are no vibes just the reverberation of feelings and emotions left unarticulated and thus unrequited.
I hate reverb, but it is so telling of what is going on beneath the surface. The messages of sound waves unseen, but suddenly heard can be shocking. The impact of that shock can be dynamic and/or detrimental. It really just depends on the house and what damage is sustained. If the damage is catastrophic will you rebuild or simply move on? What if the damage appears minimal and you repair but years from now it is found unfit, have you wasted your time?
Sometimes things vibe.
Other times things seriously vibrate, no, seriously shake like an earthquake.
I am waiting for the ground to stop moving beneath my feet, but until it does I will come out from under this table, climb on top and ride this shock like a wave. I know its dangerous, but I am willing to take the risk. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words can ever scar me. Am I too blind to see the signs? Am I waiting in vain?
Sometimes things vibe.
Today there was no vibe.
A ten minute car ride left me feeling helpless, no, hopeless. Clinging to you the way a hungry child clings to their mother's breast. Pining for the smallest amount of redemption in our conversation. That said your subtle defenses leave me hurt and yearning for your approval, no, your recognition that everything is better than fine. Many have the power to upset me, but only you have the power to hurt. Ignorance, no, a lack of desire to see enables me to overlook your sly remarks for the time, but they will bite me in my sleep. Your words are my bed bugs and your lack of action the essence of my nightmares.
Sometimes things vibe, but today you shook me empty.
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