A Work In Progress

"Habitual praise-a perpetually sacred acknowledgment of the Giver of every good thing.  A relentless embracing of good and a discarding of bad with an awareness of the one who in the beginning spoke those life affirming words.  When good is found and we embrace it with abandon, we embrace the Giver of it......this is the Praise Habit.  Finding God moment by revolutionary moment, in the sacred and the mundane, in the valley and on the hill, in triumph and tragedy, and living praise erupting because of it.  This is what we were made for." -David Crowder, "Praise Habit: Finding God In Sunsets and Sushi"

This is what I'm developing: my thoughts on worship.  More will be soon to come.  And bear/bare with me, I'm not a Bible scholar or preacher.

A Quote by Pope

"That on weak wings, from far, pursues your flights, glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes." -Alexander Pope, "An Essay On Criticism"

A Real Life Fairytale In Three Parts

"An Allusion of Hope"
[a real life fairytale in three parts]

I.

"I am ready to embark on this adventure entitled Hope.
Along the way, I look forward to falling asleep
In the passenger seat while you drive towards tomorrow.
I trust you to lead us safely to where our crossed paths will end
And we can continue on hand in hand
Over the rainbow and straight on till morning.
And when I click my heels together three times
You are there, holding my hand.
And when I pinch myself to wake from this dream,
It hurts really bad because I am not dreaming at all.
And you are there, laughing at me because you think it's cute when I act like this,
But then you kiss my arm where I pinched myself because it really did hurt."

II.

"As we travel along on this journey called Hope,
We'll sing along to the songs with the lyrics that now have real meaning.
And passers-by will look and laugh
But our worlds will be captive in the space of our minds
Where we are dancing, chest to chest,
Surrounded by others but only aware of the spotlighted ring that makes up our embrace.
And we one, two, three step to the music until the clock strikes twelve
And the gong of the clock tower brings us back to the twists and the turns of the 
road we are driving down."

III.

"As Hope presses on, I dwell on a dream that I've dreamt for so long

That has had my heart wishing for a reality that reaches far beyond any fairytale.
Your kiss has not only sparked my senses but has opened my eyes and rescued me from
My thoughts that have kept me from stirring from this unwanted slumber.
Now I rest in your arms and enjoy the ride through this whole new world that you 
are showing me;
One where the colors are brighter,
The smells are sweeter,
And the petals of a rose never leave their stem no matter how much time passes.
Because days no longer have meaning
Since our tale is as old as time
And knowing you has given me Hope
For a happy ending, with a firework-lit,
Star-studded scan up to the night sky."

"Time Will Tell"

"Time Will Tell"

"There are times, 
When I look up,
And I find that I never want to look down again.
To fly over the buildings
And the trees
And the streets that seem to lead me only to where I have always been.

Sometimes I want to spin...
And spin...
And spin without ceasing.
As if on a swing
Or a merry-go-round;
A time when your world extends only as far as your arms can reach.

And then there was a time
When I glanced out my window
And thought the moon to be unusually large,
And close to me.

I quickly learned, however, that it was only a street lamp
And my hopes of leaving this world,
If only for a moment,
Were struck down once again.

And I landed 
With a crash

And a slight burn,

Back
Into
Reality."

"Better Than The Books"

"Better Than The Books"

"I want to be winked at
From across the room.
To be kissed on the forehead.
To be hugged so intensely that enjoyment is inevitable.

I want to see bright eyes
And a smile
Behind the hand that cups my chin.
I want to feel adored.

I want to be rescued.
I want time spent with me to be precious.
I want conversation without words.
I want life to be better than the books I read.

I want goals met,
Travels taken,
And dreams dreamt...
Together.

I want rocks,
Pictures,
Stars,
And poetry.

I want the overwhelming truth
Of what I feel
To be evident also
In your eyes."

"A Couple Of Shoes"

"A Couple Of Shoes"

"Head bent; she looks at her hands.

Folded; tightly clasped in her lap.

Her nerves begin to bead in her palms.

Try, as she might, not to see the truth

She looks in his eyes.

Void of a 'yes' or a 'no'

Her stone face shows no turn to his proposal.

Only from the color and the clenching

Of her fists

Can I assume...

but he, unnoticed, goes not.

On the edge of his seat

Ready to run after

Or beg,

Whichever is needed.

Both shoes I have filled:

Wary heart;

Wanting nothing-but to give

But unable to release.

Unrestrained, ecstatic love;

Wanting all

Always giving more.

After all is said and done,

I'd rather go barefoot."

A Poem About Nothing

I was asked, by a friend, to write a poem about nothing.  So I did.

"Sometimes Nothing Means Everything"

"Nothing is wrong,"
I lie through my teeth.
And by nothing, I mean everything.

"Nothing is there,"
I tell those who ask.
And by nothing, I mean my world.

"Nothing happened,"
I cringe, as I hold back the truth in my eyes.
And by nothing, I mean nothing I'll admit to you,

For fear of shame,
Heartache,
And acceptance of the nothing I've buried for so long.

Sometimes nothing can mean everything.

So when I tell you, "Nothing's wrong,"
I'm lying; everything's wrong.
And all I want, is for you to see it in my eyes.

When I tell everyone that, "Nothing's there,"
I'm lying; everything's there,
In your hands, my world.

When I tell you, "Nothing happened,"
I'm lying; everything happened,
All at once.

And when I say, "Everything's fine,"
I'm lying.
Nothing is ever fine.

"After For Fought"

I feel like this poem is slightly hard to understand for someone who isn't apt to poetry. I apologize for that. If you'd like an explanation, just let me know.

"After For Fought"

"The simple things
That give us means
Of finding true delight, 
Are often free
But other times
Turn pleasure into plight.

Assumed escape; 
A call for help
From what we long to keep,
Can burn our tongues, 
More ways than one,
And blind us from our sleep.

A sleep that keeps 
Our eyes shut tight,
Abstaining from seeing our flaws,
We find, in time, 
And always too late,
That the fault is once again caused.

Refusal to wake, damnation to insane,
Self-crafted irons to unyielding pain,
This waiting for naught and feelings distraught:
Causation of strain to an innocent heart.
The future a hope and constant in dreams,
Praying for assurance by, any means.

The answer, far from
The preferable turn,
In turn does burn, cause
A new train of thought,
Strengthened only by faith and
A prayer, after for fought."

"Goldfish On The Pavement"

This is my sister poem to T.J.'s "Sprinkles On The Asphalt".

I am very proud of this poem more so because of my mimic of the aforementioned poem.

"Goldfish On The Pavement"

"Not one second less than ten hours ago, this pavement was bare.

It was not covered with tiny, edible goldfish.

How this became can only be explained by the retelling of events, taking place only a few seconds less than ten hours ago.

One hundred-fifty-plus dollars and change were collected and spent that night on...

Whoa! That's a lot of drink to be consumed in only a few short hours.

But consumed they are in too short of a time by a bunch of silly games and pointless competition-ball-in-the-cup-bounce back-house rules-questions-mates-circle-of-death created only to ensure that maximum amounts of liquid was consumed.

Unhindered by such silly thoughts they scream and yell and make memories they won't remember:

Friendships formed and emotions expressed from the depths of their soul,

But in their depths it remains not for long as the one hundred-fifty-plus dollars worth of drink purchased

Is mixed and shot and displayed through the stumbling and the stammering of those who consumed.

Some tried them all but some stuck with one and that one suddenly craved goldfish.

And as one might expect the effects of one hundred-fifty-plus dollars worth of drink to have, the goldfish were carelessly and recklessly flung over the edge of a three-story balcony, down to the pavement below.

The irony of this situation is...that just a few seconds later than ten hours from the flinging of the goldfish ( and the subsequent forgetting of the same),

All the physical proof evident to the world that would indicate tde fun had here last night will be just that:

Goldfish on the pavement.

All the memories made that night, you may inquire to find, but you will find naught but goldfish on the pavement.

The love that one's friend-brother-comfort-salvation extended to him will be far from any form of recollection.

Others cannot describe or begin to imagine the dignity lost by one boy with his head hung low as he adds to the pavements decor with a not so pretty decoration.

Only by the empty bottles, lingering headache and bed-side trash bin will his mind begin the work of reforming the words he said the night before.

Of all the things he has been shown, his actions by his friends, to him made known, no stranger will know and n'er understand.

So if you're seeking here to see what was done last night, then venture elsewhere you must because the only meaningful mess of last night left here,

Are goldfish on the pavement."

"Heroes Lost"

This was written while sitting in our campus coffee shop at ASU.

I would consider this a poem of mockery with a serious message.

"Perched upon my singled-out, iconic bar stool,

Spot-lighted at a side-lined table
With my cup of coffee and singed tongue,
I listen to the roar of conversation that has
Distracted my already scattered train of thought.
So much is being spoken that none of it makes sense.
But I feel that if all was isolated,
Each of those conversing would continue in their lack of sense
And meaning.

I sit back and accept my loss at being lost in my own thoughts.
Curious now, I counter their invasion into my thoughts
With an invasion of my own.
Some would call it eaves-dropping.
Others would claim it as invasion of privacy.
I feel no guilt, for it was they who attacked first.
I am simply returning the favor.

And if they choose to gloat about their illegal, less-than-respectable
Rendezvous
Loud enough to bring one as I out of a deep, philosophical daydream,
I consider that a personal invitation.
Therefore, I accept their invitation
And I look forward to the cheese,
And the wine,
And the stories that they will laugh at now,
But will one day cringe at the mention of
As they admit to these acts
In the presence of those who once held them in high regards.
And the pain that they will see in the eyes
Of those heroes
Will never match the shame that will be in their own eyes,
In that very moment."

"What Would You Do?"

I now start the posting of some poems that I have written.  

This one was written back in high school....not some of my finest moments but learning points nevertheless.

"What do you do when someone breaks your broken heart? 
Do you even bother picking up the pieces? 
Or do you just leave them apart? 
After all, it’s just gonna break again, right?

What do you do when all your hopes come crashing down? 
Do you hope for a miracle? 
Or do you just stare at the wreckage aimlessly? 
After all, you expected it, right?

What do you do when someone lets you down? 
Or someone pushes you and you fall? 
Do you even bother getting up? 
Or do you just lay still, knowing you’re gonna fall again anyway?

What do you do when shadows fill your life? 
Do you even bother finding light? 
Or do you just shiver in that lonesome cold,
Knowing that searching is futile and unwise?

What do you do with your life when nothing could get worse? 
When there are no more dreams, no more hopes, no more light? 
Do you still struggle and try to rise above your fate? 
Or just let it take you and surrender to the mighty wave?

What do you do when nothing seems to matter? 
When you don’t matter anymore? 
Do you wallow in self pity and doubt? 
Do you curse and rant and wreak havoc about?

What do you do when there are no longer happy endings, 
And all that is left is misery and remorse? 
Do you still wish to live and die trying? 
Or do you just want to die?

What do you do when there’s nothing left for you, 
And you are an aimless ghost flitting through eternities of sorrow,
Forever made to suffer and mourn and grieve for a life 
So empty and without reprieve?

What do you do? 
How do you cope? 
What would you do… 
...if you were me…?

..........
..........
..........

I would still hope, even when rationality, in my mind, 
Goes hand in hand with insanity. 
Because hope is as real as the hopelessness 
And light will never shine without darkness. 

I would pray because faith keeps me grounded. 
Yes, things could get worse 
But i would still love until my heart were grained to pieces 
As fine as the tear drenched sand. 
For a single grain of sand is all it takes 
For a pearl to emerge from the ocean’s hand. 

I would stand up, 
I would search, 
I would struggle, 
For dreams,
For light, 
For hope, 
For at least an end to an unrelenting misery.

I would do anything but surrender…"

"Eventually" Seems Forever From Now

"What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived-these things God has prepared for those who love him." -I Corinthians 2:9

Patience.  I hate the word.  Every time I find myself in a situation that I am happy in, comfortable with and even hopeful about, it is taken away from and I am made to wait.  But, after 11 months, I have come to realize that patience isn't the issue.  It's a trust thing.  It's not about wanting it to happen now.  It's about trusting that it will happen eventually.  

The same thing applies when we have an issue with accepting grace.  Yes we all have fallen short and have continually failed the God that we love and thus we have a hard time accepting forgiveness.  But our inability to accept God's love has nothing to do with our inability to accept and move on from our failures.  It is really our inability to trust God to overlook those things and love us despite the fact.  In doing so, we are limiting God's ability to love and denying his gift of grace.  This is what Jesus died for.  When we refuse to accept God's grace we refuse to accept Jesus' gift of the cross.  In a way, we belittle his act of sacrifice.  Next time you fail, and you will, and you refuse to let yourself accept the fact that God loves you anyway, remember that you're being selfish.  You can do nothing so horrifying that God is incapable of loving you.  Get over yourself and let Love happen.  

Back to the whole patience versus trust thing.  As a human, I really do hate the idea and practice of patience.  I want things to happen in my time, when I want them to.  But, I'm ok with things happening in God's time.  I'm o.k. with that, I really am.  I'm just worried that something's going to happen that God's not going to count on and things are going to get messed up.  That whole thought is completely ridiculous!!  We have no idea what is going to happen towards the end of the week, let alone at the end of 4 years!  My mind cannot comprehend God's ability to see now and forever.  The fact that God has taken his time to plan out my entire life down to the dual colors of my eyes is so foreign to me.  So, patience all comes down to trust.  The fear of things not happening is so human it's almost disgusting when compared to the brilliance of God.  This is all very random and unorganized but such are the thoughts in my head right now.  At least I made an effort to put it on paper and share it with you all.  That's what I got out of my reading this morning, something I haven't done for quite a while, but hope to make it habit.