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I don’t trust myself to sleep.
Haunted by memories threaded in so deep.
I see a face; a face I have never know,
but one so lovely and dear, I continually yearn to own.

She is a beauty, in vice and appeal,
speaking words my dreams folly to reveal.
The attraction by which she lures, I do not understand.
Abounding wonderfulness that would stifle any man.

I may not remember her or you or this place in time.
Though the walls are familiar, as is the porch, the swing and the chime.
This block, this walk and this street, hold a vagueness of real,
One barely certain to me, held fairly by means of love congeal-ed.

My eyes are blanketed by dark’s enveloping sheet.
Rest? I am only rewarded by weaknesses engrossing heat.
Tears am I blinking, to drown the near obsession.
Fear? Un-wantingly I run, for dread of painful confession.

Mine is a torment, unknown and relentless.
As night draws near, I begin again to feel the strong presence.
The lurking, the enticing and the remorseless inviting,
To share in lovelies and memories that are but trifling.

More often than not, I fear, man as fallen under this spell.
Been drowned, not screaming; Gagged, not cheering; straight into hell.
I trust not the power of my will, nor the weakness of my mind,
Clear is this vixen; near is this whisper of love to be refined.
… Harsh is the levity found upon waking to steadier mind.

Eric’s anxiousness to see the sketch I drew during today’s sermon inspired me to work up this piece. I went ahead and uploaded the original photo I took, in case you want to play the “Boy’s Life” game of spotting what is different. ;) Enjoy.

He powers up and starts his day;
a few others, in tow, follow his way.
He thinks: “The day will end as the rest”
“Empty, lonely … defeated, at best.”

Stark is his joy and trembling is his hand,
to stumble upon a treasure, so unplanned.
“Consume, relish and to yourself entreat;
rare is the day when love is secured,
while a heart still able to beat!”

Squiggly worms,
given to and shaping in an
over-abundance of glee;
though warted, hairy and toothed is
how they tend to be.

Their wisdom is strong,
and though I want it much,
the skin they share, I truely fear to touch.
“Stay your distance and keep your way!
“Just shout your words
and I’ll continue my day.”

I forgot to finish this post in time to add it to the Illustration Friday archive, but I hope you still enjoy the napkin sketch and this bit of rhyme.

They amass upon the cliffs,
seeking to find an sustaining ledge.
In pursuit of a welcoming host,
their fall upon him is swift.

Dark is their interest,
deep is their intent.
From within the bellows,
they are seeking and are yet to be content.

It’s two in the morning,
she didn’t wait up.
I’d rather be sleeping,
but instead I’ll be tough.

I am so very tired,
feeling entirely mired.
Not really be life or things gone wrong,
but mainly as one with cheek to tongue.

I’ll think I should go code now,
design something pretty.
This has just been a brief intermission,
a “time-is-passing” ditty.

For my Jodie:

“the ocean’s tide; it is calmed.
the push of breeze; it is stilled.
time itself finds a stopping place.
In the moments when you are gone,
Life is weak.”

“And breathing; it is hard.
the flow of feeling; it is numb.
The mind has found a different pace.
This heart I suffer and bear
has an aching beat.”

“Love is life and in the seek of what’s
fleeting, love in its strength
will stop the heart of beating.”

Sorry that this piece is less sketching and more writing, but that is what came out when I put pencil and pen to paper. ;)

“four brothers separated upon
their birth … sifted through
life and strife and directorial girth;
now find a home within
my mind’s milky mirth.”

(This was for the four movies I have seen in the past year that were absolutely amazing and had so many iconic moments/elements.)

“three insignificant glances,
bleed my heart of past romances,
and fill my life anew,
with opportune chances.”

This one has a poem attached:

“this is for two
as in the number of the day.
but also as in you
as in a way for me to say:”

“I really missed you,
and am glad you are home.”
“I can’t live without you.
I am so not me on my own.”

Day #14

Sponges dance on sandy shores,
while moon-lit lizards contemplate bubbly conversations;
Knob nose-ed box antennae prance;
Disco never felt so good.

If you feel as trapped as he, maybe we should talk?

Enjoy and comment, eh?

I am wounded with much injure,
due in fault to my own perjury.
With this day’s new dawn,
my wound is open, anew … and now, un-gone.

I have dreamed a lover’s dream,
one of hope and peace serene.
It was filled with love and its desires,
a past pushed to forgetful mires.

It hurts and pains to dwell on you;
you, that fleeting doe on morning’s dew.
Dreams have glimpsed to ending solitude,
but in truth, it is false hope imbued.

---

I though of you and your embrace;
how it cures the pangs of pasts’ misplaced.
Times too long spent and time too much wasted,
on dreams and hopes and thrills long left untasted.

Oh God, cure me of my past,
help me of my own remorse to memories unfast.
Pull me from that steadfast descending mire,
to stand and look beyond love’s impending spire.

Why are dreams so strongly breed,
why so deeply do they lie within longing lovers’ head.
I’d instead to think the night’s length long,
or stay the wake and be absence your siren song.

A quick poem I wrote during sunday school today at Canoe Creek:

Venus is beyond the moon.
We’re hiding to see her soon.

She is my morning star.
Holding hands, running so far.

Filling my space and mind.
Let’s watch her rise one more time.

In the rushing wind and gentle breeze,
you speak to me, O Lord.

At the rustle of the autumn leaves,
I know you are with me.

In the bathing warm of sunlight,
I feel your watch over me.

Your presence gives me calm
and I am free.

I just love drawing monsters. Scraggely teeth. Hairy arms. Zombie eyes. Bald heads … oh wait. Maybe that is just my monsters. Either way … they always make me smile.

So why is our friend here so “grizzly”? Is it his demeanor? His physical disposition? Interesting, isn’t? I mean, on one hand, he looks pretty angry and about ready to just chew off your left leg because you beat him again in Mario Kart. Then again … doesn’t his face look completely down-fallen from the fact that you just rejected him because he was just too hairy? How could you? He’s gonna cry … then he probably will chew your head off. Nice going.

Well every good monster deserves a decent poem, so here is his:

I was looking for love,
you’d say “in all the wrong places”.
I was convinced otherwise,
until I saw their downtrotten faces.

They laughed and jeered me.
“Wanna be friends …?”, I sighed in reply.
“Go get a shave!”, they yelled,
from behind a fast flung chocolate cream pie.

Broken and lonely,
I sit on the curb of Elm Street and Pride
Consolling with and to myself,
that, if at least nothing else, I still had tried.

Today was another great day of accomplished tasks … among which was the New Creation poster (check out the Flickr sidebar!). Karati-gami at d-groups went really well … even if I did make Jen mad at me for a bit. ;) I am now well on my way to getting those thousand origami cranes so I can have my wish.

After Southside band practice, Jen and I worked on this desktop wallpaper together … not to shabby, I think. And the poem, in part, really speaks to my feelings as of late. Enjoy.

She stands upon the precipice,
her gaze within the rocks’ warm embrace.
her hair … it floats on the midnight breeze,
while a forlorn sadness darkens her face.

She’s taken a few steps more,
closer still to night’s starless intent.
A decision must be made,
this choice, now is beyond circumvent.

When from a sudden, she is found;
stumbled upon by loved one’s loving eye.
“Hold fast … still!”, is the desperate plea.
“Speak to me and share! Why it is that you must die?”

Choice now stands at your side;
Leaving you with two ways to end tonight.
Sure is the fate that lies before you,
while hope, it beckons to set things right.

I keep hearing this words from Anberlin’s song in my head, so you should probably hear them too:

Come and go now as you please
Your actions write the melodies
To the songs that we sing
And you just sing

And I finally found that life goes on without you
And my world still turns when you’re not around

Is this the way you want it?
Is this the way it has to be?
Sitting here beside you
With my heart’s lost in New Orleans
Dreams come clever
Hearts now severed
Difference of forever
And I am lost there

And if your interested, I had these words of mine too:

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*This is a painting I just did on my hoodie. I have come to the happy realization that I have more fun painting on my clothes/bags/hands/etc than on paper sometimes.*

I ran into a little boy today on the way to the market. His hair was matted down and his feet were dirty from the city streets. As he stole a quick glance up at me, I caught a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Tugging on my coat, he pulled me down to him and said that “there were words we must share”. Here is what he did utter to me:

I have seen my greatest love.
I have tasted a wonderful joy …
One never before known to me.

And now I find that I have lost it all.
The empty place in my heart,
momentarily filled with cheerful destruction,
is once again a seeping hole;
a gaping wound.

I wish only now
that the happy times I had enjoyed,
could be taken back
and I could be left with every day’s hope,
instead of unending sorrow.

As I tried to console him with my own feelings of loss and despair, he knowingly turned up his eyes and remarked in words my heart echoes within:

Your sadness is only so great;
your pain is only so deep,
because of the friendship you held too near;
because of misgiven things you let go of too late.

Had you acted with ration and true concern,
and less with young, headstrong ambition,
you now would find yourself with the same strong love of the past,
instead of vain hopes for dreams you never really had.

With these last words, the boy within (my arms) fell down and ceased his life’s breathe. And I, alone, was left to stare out blankly into the darkening night.

Seeing you cry,
hurts me inside.
It cuts deep at my heart,
and bleeds emotions I can’t hide.

As you trade your wisdom for fear,
you turn your face down.
There is anger and ire …
See, they pattern your frown.

Your tears well up,
as your eyes go red.
I truly want to hold you,
but longing stares must suffice instead.

I feel your pain
and it hurts me too.
Please consider that if you left me,
All that I enjoy of me, would leave with you.

(… night passes …)

Awake and find delight,
Smile at morning making night’s end.
Today is fresh and unstained,
and I’m still here to be your friend.

Isn’t it the worst feeling when you realize you can’t leave a good enough tip for a waiter/waitress that has been exceptionally nice and attentive? I hate when that happens. It instantly makes me feel so cheap, even if I know the problem is a lack of funds and not a parsimonious outlook on my part. Agh!

Today was so very yummy. Leftover chinese food for lunch, while watching old episodes of The Office; Chinese food for dinner with Jodie, Michelle and Courtney and then opening presents with the whole girlie gang from 421 (and the boys too); Rockstars and cherry Cokes for staying up late at Denny’s with Missy and Beth; and finishing off an Amazing Pizza logo for Jimison. YUMMY!

What are some things you would be doing and/or buying right now if you had more money? How much would it take for you to be able to get that “really amazing” thing? If it actually doesn’t cost that much, what is holding you back?

Need to Cogitate
There are certain emotions that life evokes,
that grab at you hard, in strangling chokes.
Ones blatant, and rude and horribly coarse.
They are painfully real, fully void of remorse.

Sometimes those emotions give way to end,
to passing of life and eternal rest.
But with love in your life, and side by a friend,
You will find you aren’t as wounded, not nearly, at best.

This is just another chapter in the story of a boy,
a man’s attempt at freedom and purpose found.
It doesn’t have to end, flawed without joy.
It can have hope. It can have love. Reasons to resound.

** P.S. This photo is of an amazing group painting a few of us worked on over the last couple of days for my FCC office. Click through to the Flickr to see the rest of the shots and details. **

Melodies for Disaster

(verse)
Here are some instructions
on how easily to find;
find yourself sitting
beside your darkness of mind.

Take off the paper clothes,
remove your heart from chest.
Leave behind only
what’ll feed the pain the best.

Play now a song
from a playlist marked “For Death”.
Turn high the volume
and take your last breathe.

(chorus)
These are the notes I write.
These are the words of song.
They all lead me down,
under the pathway of dawn.

They are all the words
The ones stuck in my head
I can never speak one,
so I’ll bleed them out instead.

(verse)
When you find yourself weeping
from the hurt you feel inside
speak the word “friend”,
and let hold of your knife.

Even if the cuts
fill you with life;
You’re bleeding all your friends,
along with your wife.

Take a moment now.
Turn down the volume, son.
God is right here
And the day is surely won.

(chorus)
These are the notes I write.
These are the words of song.
They all lead me down,
under the pathway of dawn.

They are all the words
The ones stuck in my head
I can never speak one,
so I’ll bleed them out instead.

(verse)
Do you feel yourself now,
in a huddle, along with friends?
Do you remember the way
you use to smile at them?

Cling tight to hope,
So the pain will start to mend.
Reach out for love,
and God will bring a friend.

Now sleep if you can,
but open up your eyes.
No one drowns with friends.
We can all hear your cries.

(chorus)
These are the notes I write.
These are the words of song.
They all lead me down,
along the pathway of dawn.

They are all the words
The ones stuck in my head
Be real and speak “love”.
It’s just what God would have said.

I don’t have anything to show for Sunday … I only offer this short poem instead:

A day that begins so good,
should never leave the night
so very dark.

This bright morning
should never have become
something so terribly stark.

Finding a friend –
fills life with worth.
Losing a friendship –
tears worth from life.

A day that ends like this,
so near hopeless and so ready to die;
deserves to be strangled
with its own cause for strife.

A fat man and a poem, destined for Michelle’s mailbox.

“Here is a man that is fatter than fat.
Clearly he is. We can all see that.

“His story is sad. It really, truly is …
See, he’s so very fat
because he ate all his kids.”

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