Tag Archives: courage

Hello Airplane

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Hello Airplane, hello beautiful,
Going away together sounds wonderful.
I won’t miss Canadian slush,
Or mud, I won’t miss it much.

Hello Air France, I’ve waited,
So long, half-agitated,
Wanting to escape certain parts,
Of my life, like starstruck hearts.

Hello handsome method of escape,
Let’s go, I can’t wait!
I’m not going to miss lame classes,
Full of peers acting like ______.

Hello you sexy beast of a plane,
With engines powerful, but tame.
Take me up in your wings so steady,
Let’s hit the air, you ready?

Hello my beautiful Air France,
I’m thanking you in advance,
For time away from memory,
And time in a legit family.

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Reepicheep

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I mosey the cluttered lanes with poetry.
Alone with lines of prose to comfort me.
I dare not look around my ankles,
At crumbling ground, trod by angels,
Soil sighing beneath cadavers,
Reincarnation won’t reimburse
The lives that fall away.
I’m all that’s left today.

“Keep walking, helping is coming,
Keep singing, laughing, humming.”
One foot in front of the other,
Wait for the sound of the trumpeter,
We shall not sleep, but be changed,
Into air, freely arranged.
In the twinkling of an eye,
I will breathe my final sigh.
Laughter will accompany my days henceforth,
Treading lanes of a pilgrimage north.

But until that day I might never see,
I’m bent on living my life completely.
In abundance, to the full, till it overflows,
Getting back up after the cruel blows
Thrown at me from every side.
The hell on earth which I abide.
My life is a raging battlefield,
But peace is on my shield,
Though I walk through the valley of death,
The air composed of final breaths,
I will walk on through the bodies,
Disregarding these robberies
From the bank of lives.
Death tries, almost deprives
Me of life but is unable.
My life cannot be fatal.

Life waits across the bridge of mortality,
Which I will strut in style and vitality.
I don’t know this bridge’s length,
But I do know my Lover’s strength.
That’s enough to carry me.
Through endless lanes that weary me.
I have more than my poetry,
A Protector close to comfort me.

Peace On Earth

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nil4drA99a0

The phrase “peace on earth” means more to me these days. Maybe it’s because I’ve realized it’s not a just a phrase. I’m hitting replay on this song again and again, because it brings me back to a month and a half ago when. my. life. was. perfect. I had three sisters, and all four of us were chilling downstairs. We were playing piano guitar, bongos, and singing, not thinking about waking up the parental units with a house that’s ringing. It’s this song we were playing, among other ones too, and we’d played it perfectly the first time through. The atmosphere felt like heaven, another dimension, of peace, without any strife or tension. That day was complete perfection. Becky told us, “You guys sound like angels. I bet this is what it’s like in heaven.” Except in heaven, it would last 24-7. The good things we have we could keep, but the gap between then and now is deep. Heaven is a long way off for me, at least, as far as I can see. Life could be over without a moment’s notice. The time we have here is just a bonus.

Algonquin

Kitten In A Tree

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Tired of drowning in things to be done,

Tired of fighting the battles I’ve [not] won.

While victory lies on the table of contemplation,

And my flaws grow in the soil of frustration,

Am I overcommitted, under acquitted?

Still wrestling pain that I’ve [not] admitted?

Am I working too much, trying to touch,

The glory, the talent of such and such?

Do I need a new fire, a spiritual zeal,

Something to coax my numb senses to feel? 10

Something to bring me down from a tree,

Like the kitten crying, just to be free.

Where are the hands of my Rescuer?

The holes in the hands of my Discover.

I am small enough to fit in His hands,

Large enough to walk with Him on the sands.

Where is He now but a moment away?

A voice away with the sound of “hey”

The voice which knows the length of my day,

Who touches my shoulders and breathes it away. 20

Filling my senses: I’m no longer dead.

When His faithful hand is beneath my head.

Together we recount the ups and downs,

Of a full day, with sights, memories, sounds.

With tears over the unkindness faced,

When I couldn’t cry, but my heart still paced.

Now ocean pieces sting like glass my face,

But cannot stay, for He will yet erase,

And heal their present dwelling place,

Renewing beauty and giving grace. 30

I have a wall of love to run into,

Whenever I have none to hang on to.

For now I will stay in this tree,

With the One who will rescue me.

I am not ready to face them all,

I don’t want to see their faces at all.

They ask for answers, I have none,

They try to make me have some fun,

But forget that I’m not one of them,

That I will never, never be one of them. 40

On a separate note, I was given a gift today,

It was when I heard someone say,

I was not a problem to be fixed,

A wasteland of emotions mixed.

But that life as I knew it was normal,

Problems, pressures, pains were normal.

It was the voice of an angel informal,

A voice pragmatic, sensible, moral.

Which has made me [cry] behind her back,

For the sense and sensibility [I lack.] 50

The encouragement to move on when,

You’ve messed up in front of all of them.

These are the tear which I keep [hidden],

Behind the glass of perfection |forbidden|,

I hear a siren, the glass will -crack-.

But again my Saviour wins it back.

I might be cute, fuzzy, and purring daily,

But I’m wet, shivering, shaking faintly.

Until I’m enclosed within His grasp

Like magic safe within the clasp. 60

Where I release the sounds exiled,

To be within my poetry [silenced.]

Betrayed, portrayed, arrayed,

The words condense on those hands scathed,

The sunlight peeks in through the holes

Of pain, of price for healing souls,

Sometimes I think I’m one of many,

Other times His love says I’m the only,

But I have been healed, am being healed,

And He is my cure thus far concealed. 70


Thou Shalt Never Be Too Serious.

Heaven Is

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Sometimes amazing things happen to us which we can’t explain, but in my typical indomitability,  I’ll try to explain what’s happened. After all, how hard could that be? I realize I’m risking making no sense whatsoever, but it’s just an occupational hazard.

First, –philosophy before prose– I’ve come to believe that our ideas about heaven are merely our ideals of a perfect life we wish we could experience now. Eternity might be completely different than the scope of our mortal speculation allows us to comprehend. Heaven is a difficult concept to tackle with a priori alone, so having exhausted that approach, I’ll continue with a posteriori. I’m able to embrace the complete uncertainty about the afterlife, because my peace of mind comes from my convictions, not my reason.

Heaven is real. I know it because it’s happened to me. You can’t fool me now. I’m resorting to experiential intelligence as a means of understanding, having found reason to be dull and dry, yielding limited returns. You could say I’ve crapped out on philosophically handling questions about heaven. I’ve crapped out of methods which don’t serve me as well.

Heaven is the joy leaking through your fingers because you were the fool who thought they could hold it. It’s the moment you realize you’d waited for about five years, and it’s finally coming true. It’s the clarity in the air as you listen to the words which cut years of burdens off your young mind. It’s when the years of pain melt away into tears which are being shed on your shoulder, and down your back. It’s when you realize that your estimates of about ten years of drudgery on a path to reconciliation are inaccurate. It feels so good to be wrong. Heaven is when years of turmoil melt into a peace which comes from regret, retrospection.

Heaven is forgiveness. It’s real.

Heaven is lightheartedness slowly returning to a cynical, calloused, cadaverous creature of complicated concerns who’s been carrying crap.

Heaven is when burdens are being cut off, and you’re realizing that you’re ten times lighter.

Heaven is when the stupid humans get the hell over their petty drama, and drop grudges. It’s when people stop lugging all their crap around and spewing hate in the air about others. It’s when mortal arrogance ceases long enough to let heaven shed light on a situation.

Heaven is when NO ONE UNDERSTANDS WHAT JUST HAPPENED. Why destructive habits stopped. Why one person just gained the clarity and cool-headedness in the midst of confusion that you KNOW something changed. Someone let them in on the cosmic secret: HEAVEN IS REAL.

To those who are bent on backstabbing: fuck off. I have a life to live. I’m bloody well going to live it free, without the need for self-righteousness to assert some sort of order or justice. I don’t have the answers to any of your problems. If you wish that I’d solve the world’s problems, by attempting to hold people accountable to some code of conduct, take a reality check. Forget it. It’s my life. No type of religious claptrap  could convince me to play God and carry around a resentment for why people don’t act as they should.

2011 brought its fair share of good and bad. In retrospect, I think it was completely unfair. I was robbed of a gift I thought I’d have for 60 more years or so. but, I was given a gift –a big shiny one– that I didn’t think I’d get for years: reconciliation. Psalm 65:11 “You crown the year with Your goodness.” I’m really thankful for the ways God helps me get over the jerk side of my humanity, and works good things into my life, e.g., giving me peace which I didn’t think I’d have for about ten more years. I like how He pulls me back from danger by getting dirt under His fingernails with me, and showing me what to avoid, why to avoid it. I’m also really lucky to know His unconditional acceptance, no matter what trumpery I dabble in.

Thanks for tuning in.

BLOOPERS:

Heaven is more than 24 cookies eaten in less than 24 hours. [true story]

Heaven is when your mom is under your bed trying to find your owl. [true story]

Heaven is when people figure out the value of what they have to say, and then proceed to take the liberty of cushioning it with the most fitting expletives.

“Roses were red,
Back then at your visit,
The violets were blue,
Now they are wilted.
So long 2011,
You completely SUCKED.
If I didn’t have heaven,
I’d be royally (let’s see, what rhymes, out of luck?)”

If only I could bottle some, and give it to my family to cure them. I’d also give some of this magic medicine to a friend of mine. Here -this is what makes life life.