Godsvalkyrie's Xanga

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 10:57:21 GMT

Act 4

Is it beginning to unfold?

There is such a long way to go

for years, I could not speak their language.

And so they spoke mine

The vinedresser, yes, he is the one who made it so

You have not seen him here?

Oh , never you mind

we will meet him in good time

But not yet.

There are witnesses, you see

Yes, these strong sentinels stand as witnesses to the thorns and briars that tossed their caustic rhetoric

among tenderlings

whose very leaves and veinules were so carefully maintained

to bear the tri quatrain fruit of my Tender’s fame.

That was when the hands of sustenance

Were training up new lines of thought in the way they should go

grafting

pruning…

all so gentle and eloquent;

I did not see it then.

Such a pity…

But they did. The trees saw these seedlings

change, as the turning of the leaves -

I who watered with swill and swallowed, allowing the hate-speech to have its way in the undergrowth;

I broke the tenant farmers’ hearts

Their elocution meant for mighty oaks

washed away like so much fertilizer.

They stood back and saw instead the burrs and nightshade poison flowing freely

from my intermittent pen

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 23:31:44 GMT

Act 3

If you want answers, you must ask the life that is planted here.

They remember

and can tell you better

the letters they gave;

The ones I didn't take.

I would sit in their shade

and formulate equations, raking through the data

and numbers that couldn't save me.

And all the while the words,

in their whispering leaves

dripped down around me

like the rain that had so long sustained this place...and mingled with wordless agony

running down my face.

Unheeded

Unheard

by the lands that bordered my own

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 14:16:32 GMT

Here is act 2. It's been ahwile since I've been on, but there are a few more acts to go. These entries are cryptic, I know, but I had something very specific in mind back when I wrote them that makes more sense as the acts continue. I've decided to only make minor alterations. I'm interested to see what people get out of these, if anything. I think I had a much harder time expressing the tings in my head when I was younger without using metaphor. I still err on the enigmatic side, but I've gotten a lot better at expressing these things as God has taught me and healed my heart. It's amazing what unconditional love will do for someone ;)

Act 2

The wind…let it take you.

Now mind your step.

It’s harder to see a garden, but we can still make it out

Look carefully

branches lancing toward tortured skies, roots running into earth I hadn’t watered in ages.

And wind now weaves softly through them.

They stand.

immovable.

true.

Just as they do to this day

But there were less then.

And the tenant farmers have all changed since.

You see, I always knew these trees were set here long before tenant’s hands

ran over strong branches

in gratitude

for sentences that grew so deep from seed,

keeping their own council,

unless sharing with those who bore the burden of their tending.

The tenders knew better than I what secrets they held

The poems they wrote for me…

When the epochs that taught me in their growth rings looked on

– they do even still, you know -

Their progeny walked the carefully crafted pathways

of their commas

and their paragraphs

largely unaware of their significance.

Garden of the Word

Sat, 09 Feb 2008 13:57:35 GMT

This is a series of shorts I wrote in segments I've called Acts. I wrote this a couple of years ago and I'm revising it and resurrecting it. It contains a good deal of symbolism and is entirely metaphorical.

Prologue

How I write in these days…
is so unlike what I have done before
these are days of
wonders more than I have ever known.
The wind moves…
And it is changing me.
Come;
Let me show you.

Act 1

To what end were we aspiring?
That would be the first question to ask,
sitting beneath an apple tree.
You see, the wind,
the wind will take us back;
rolling along the warm earth of well-trodden garden paths,
Rustling the fronds of the tired lyrics of my short life…
I have plucked words from those tender shoots you see over there
and words like fruit from muted trees
who looked on
as I consumed that which I did not create -

but I am getting ahead of myself

wait…

lie back and look up

See?

Yes, the that living lattice works its magic on more than just me.
But this place was not always as you see it now.
No, it was not always so,

not so very
long ago

Sealion Woman

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 16:23:33 GMT

I'm actually listening to a song called Sealion Woman. I thought she could use a story. And a few plays on words. Google the lyrics and it'll make more sense.

She a hard woman

see her lyin'

she make her home way down yonder

some go see her for they problems

she not one for walkin

some come home

she have some kin' o reputation

some drink her coffee

she a gambler

some lose they ever'thin

she don't sleep none

some find her good comp'ny

her rooster don't lie

some see her for her trouble

She sang a low kin' o blues

some folk be her trouble

she a hard woman

C-line woman

A silly piece of fiction...that has nothing to do with science

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 17:52:57 GMT

"All is this bloody fragmentation of thought! Untamed words and brief flashes of brilliance that have no proper place!" He said, tossing his pen from him, vexed.
"Calm yourself, young sir," chided his tutor, amusement looming in her speech. "You will come to know the way of it it time. Words are a skittish thing."
"I'll attest to that! They outwit and evade from the moment I give chase. And I have had my fill of sport." Lord Thomas rejoined, pouting.
"Consider sir, they take rest to procure. It is truly stated that the mouth speaks from the abundance of the heart. If one wishes to use them as bitter weapons, one must only abide in the cruelty of one's own heart. Likewise, to father good words, one must find rest, either apart from turbidity of soul, or within a cultivated peace there indwelling."
"I'll not have it, good madame Katherine! My cynicism is a dear happiness to me! I'll thank you not to disturb it."
She knew full well that his concession to cynicism was as good as defeat, but not without his typical defiance. His forebears had also prov'd unremitting.
"I'll thank my level head that I am not of your humor in such matters."
"And I'll thank my good humor that I've not your level head which leads to a certain promise of tedium with which I've grown so well acquainted."
"Is that so? Well, lest my eyes have applied deceit to their observation, you and the tedium of discipline had never been better strangers."
Thomas, recognizing a rare opening for distraction and true to his nature, cavalierly flung feet upon his writing desk, and hastily pursued the line of thought.
"But none can deny that I have taken to life with an open hand and comely visage. Happy are they that see more to the act than the consideration of life. Surely in your undeceived moments, you have also observed my conveyance in this manner? Are you so obstinate a heretic in the despite of pleasure?"
"I'll have done with you, sir, before I submit myself to such a slight upon my character. Your remnants of wit are more apt to miss than break upon me. Were I to eat the full-blossom'd fruits of all your considered acts of life, I would not have escaped a predestinate wasting death."
"You do me an unkind turn, lady."
"Indeed I have, for I deal with you more fairly when returning your attentions to the work at hand. Your mother ought to consider your birth, and what came to pass in the throes of birthpain, that her child was not switched for a changeling for all the trouble you cause."
Soundly routed, Thomas fetched his pen, pulled a face, and considered his task.

Maybe Xanga's not so bad

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 12:04:29 GMT

I went back and read some of my old posts....man, it's been so long since I posted...in fact, it's been too long since I've written. Writing has always been one of my joys. They say you're not supposed to enjoy the process, just the end result or writing. Well, I've always kind of had a thing for the process. Working with words is soothing. It has a cathartic effect on me, almost like working with the earth when I garden. Gardening is very grounding. It gives structure and form to the eyes, occupying hands that might otherwise get into mischief, whereas writing gives structure and form to the mind. And part the joy of watching things grow is remembering what labors went into them.

I need to do this more often, even if no one reads these posts. It's good for me. I've never been one for taking lots of pictures. I've always created snapshots through writing. And re-reading those old posts brought the memories back sharply. God is still moving, and still the same. But I am not. He has moved me much further along than when I last wrote. My heart is lighter, my mind clearer, my spirit more at rest. My future, however, is just as uncertain as it always was. I am grateful that I still have these little, written snapshots.

Monday, February 04, 2008

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 11:43:49 GMT

I'm bringing Xanga back - drop a comment if you're with me!

Friday, March 16, 2007

Fri, 16 Mar 2007 08:21:06 GMT

It's been a while, hasn't it? That's cuz there's too much to tell. Let me sum up without getting into details just yet.

Well, the practical aspects of life have gotten the better of my spare time. Mostly, I'm trying not to pass out from exhaustion from getting up so early for work. I have NEVER gotten up this early in my life (except mebbe after I was first born). I know the discipline's good for me. God knows it is. But lord have mercy I'm so tired! At least everyone here's as crazy as me. They won't fire you for being crazy here, which I was never sure of in past jobs.

I'm teaching dance Friday nights, which is making me deliriously happy (I'm probably more excited about it than I should be), and, since I can't seem to get enough, I will soon be teaching Monday nights as well. Belly dancing starts up again next week. Those girls are so awesome! It'll be nice to see them again. I get to DJ Paige and KC's wedding! How sweet is that?! And house church... what can I say but that it has been a constant reminder of the power of God. Life is full and crammed to the gills ful of paradigm shifts and powerful lessons.

My family is amazing, and we've been weathering some difficult situations. Personally, I think it'll be good in the end. In fact, better than good. God has a way of doing that. You know, I have met some of the most fascinating people lately. Beautiful people. It makes one grateful to be a follower of Christ. I have also encountered some very viscious wolves in sheep's clothing, vipers who claim the name of Christ and torment the people made in His image. I have also been listening to scripture on my ipod, which has been blowing my mind on a daily basis....I tell ya, try it if you can, but only if you can listen to bigger chunks, like a chapter or two. Listening is so different from reading. SO different. You can tell it was originally an oral tradition.

And what more shall I tell you, dear friends? I will have ot think more on it cuz my little world is shifting, my whole universe by a few degrees. I will share with you soon. I love you, my dear friends. you are a blessing to me.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Sun, 03 Dec 2006 01:37:32 GMT

As many of you know, movies are usually fodder for spiritual cross application for me. Basically, I'm a nerd and we all know that. Tonight my guys and I watched Deja Vu (a movie with a French title without proper accents. You gotta love English assimilation of other languages. Hooray English! http://us.redstripebeer.com/media Anyway...the title's not the point.)

The film is about attempting to alter the past and is very well done, in my opinion, and it brings up an interesting point. Through different characters' interpretations of God, the film seems to suggest a classic post modern ideal that God is whatever anyone wants Him to be. I saw something in addition to this. One might easily draw the conclusion from the film that God's mind is not, in fact, made up about history and time. As the characters wrestle with destiny, the idea that history is not certain subtly suggests that people might be able to do better for themselves. I tend to see this perspective in others easily because I have often seen it in myself.

When I was a kid, I had these reoccurring feelings of being profoundly and unalterably trapped by destiny. Like I was on a rollercoaster that I didn't choose to ride, terrified and climbing to the summit, set to plunge toward an end over which I had no control. Yeah. And I was a normal kid, right? I should note that I understood that this was not an accurate picture of God at all. That didn't stop me from thinking this way at times. Anyway, what I mean by that is best explained by the image I had in my mind. In these moments, I saw God as an enormous stone wall reaching to the heavens, moving forward like a glacier, inexorable, indifferent, having determined exactly how the world, and therefore, my life should unfold. I would see myself as a tiny, defiant creature standing up to what felt like an enormous machine. Like Prometheus http://www.messagenet.com/myths/bios/promethe.html, I would defy God, and like Moses, I would change His mind.

Looking and a broken world fueling the fires of war, mounting the piles of dead, grinding away lives marked by little more than petty self indulgence or crude survival, heroes are few and far between. I don't know anyone who hasn't wanted to be a hero at some point, even if it is only to themselves or their loved ones. We all want to try and do it better. Surely I can do a better job than my parents.... certainly I can succeed where my superiors have failed... if I work hard enough... if I just relax and ride this one out... if we just get through this dry season.... over this hill... if I can just stop caring so much...if I can be beautiful enough...brave enough...strong enough...different enough...relaxed enough...confident enough....enough...enough. And you know what's funny? Its never really enough.

And although I can afford to be global in my perspective, sometimes its much harder to look at my own life and trust God to be as good as He says He is. "Oh yes, this does indeed suck and I don't like it, but I'm sure He knows what He's doing. At least i hope He does." On several occasions, especially in the past year or so, God has asked me to tell people something I knew either they didn't want to hear, or that I had tried to tell people in the past and been burned badly enough to never want to do it again. I can't tell you that they all turned out just fine and dandy. In one case, those words brought two families together. In another, I lost a friend. But in both cases, it was the right thing to do. It was also the hardest.

It'd be a nice ego stroke to say I was totally cool about it. I didn't panic. I never doubted. I didn't act rashly. Yeah. wouldn't that be nice. But in the back of my mind, the voice that kept rising, screaming that i could undo it, I could fix it, was interrupted over and over by the voice of Grace that calmed me down for a moment and asked me to wait. Which I did. For about five seconds at a time. But as the acts were played out and the roller coaster plummeted downward at frightening velocity, God proved that He knew best. That His good was much bigger than my imagination had allowed for.

I have learned many times and have many more times to learn that God's chastisement is God's Grace. That ugliness is a unique kind of beauty seen through a warped lens. That hope deferred may indeed make the heart sick, but it is never the end of the story. Believers in the Old Testament never saw their hope realized. It was deferred. Delayed. They were heartsick with longing for a savior. As those of us who believe now are heartsick for our true Home. And God comforts the sick at heart and the poor in spirit. Remembering that God is good no matter what, well, if I can remember that always, I suppose I shall have learned something during my brief stay on this earth.