Friday, June 06, 2008

• God I tried…

  I came here to this place

  Tired, weak, and blurry eyed

  It’s not supposed to be like this

  Spending years, without the kiss

  Yet have obligations, and heartaches

  To live in love without the bliss

  We fight and we argue

  I don’t want this anymore

  I just want to submit

  And love you, love her

  I am scarred

  I am scared

  Screaming against skies of brass

  I know your plan, in the back of my head

  But I feel so lost

  I feel left for dead

  And when I raise my voice to complain

  I see your blood and your name

  I can hardly utter anything

  Only fall down in shame

  I am so wounded, and broken, and weak

  Please fill me

  Please fill me

  Please fill me

  • 1:49 PM
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• Liquid seeps through my fingers

  The joy of life and the friends I have

  Transient yet flowing down

  They never last

  I squeeze tight, knuckles white

  The sand sprays faster, as I fight

  Can I hold on? Can I hold on?

  The hourglass of time pours down

  Hours and days, smiles and frowns

  Caught in the evanescence of life

  As the cascade rose once bright

  Now flickering before a chorus of night

  Can I hold on? Can I hold on?

  If I let go and cup my palms

  The liquid falls slower and my qualms

  Answered not by victory

  not by encapsulating

  but by the solace of embracing

  Precious

  When I don’t hold on

  When I don’t hold on

  • 1:49 PM
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• I didn’t wait for you to come down the mountain

  Selfish lies and perfidy

  I raise my hands

  To deprecate my fate

  But my heart’s what you really want from me

  You pursue me

  Through the tundra

  Through the rain

  You pursue me

  Through all these tears

  Through all this pain

  Who am I?

  That you would care?

  And who am I to forget that your there?

  Tomorrow comes and it brings another day

  What do I remember when I wake?

  Will I thank you for the next breath I take?

  Will I forget about you until I’m in need?

  When it was me who should have paid

  The libation of your blood

  For the raging sins I made

  Yet you pursue me

  I’m the quarry of your concinnity

  Yet you do it in love

  Instead of the power that you are

  Yet you pursue me

  As I run and run away

  Into the pasty gray

  Of a world without you

  How come I never realize

  What I have right here

  When I’m looking into space

  Cause I don’t see what’s near

  Groping in darkness

  Old Camel knees on the floor

  My dry hands cut and bleeding

  I can’t find the path anymore

  Yet your arms are open

  And your running

  As I crawl away

  From the only one

  Who ever died for me

  • 1:47 PM
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• I'm posting a bit of old stuff I was too lame to sinish back in the day... many are songs with various reasons and all that jazz...

  One more empty song devoid of power

  Worship turned into lyric and friendly wholesome “noise”

  About us, about uncontroversial, cookie cutters

  Drowning in a culture needing men not boys

  We are filthy, we are rotten, we are covered in sin

  Beasts of burden chained to our own lasciviousness

  We are crying, we are screaming, to be more within

  Looking for a sterile bandage to clean our mess

  But the thing that washes it away is blood

  Gritty, grimy, stains of crimson red

  Lacerating our savior until we poured out enough

  Flowing into the wretches once dead

  Choking, gasping, clawing for air

  We crawl to the foot of an archaic cross

  Asking for a hope, our heart can scarcely dare

  Seeing a future of painful loss

  The chains fall, with utmost force

  Our lives are changed in newness

  Filing against our sin a divorce

  Baptized into life and trueness

  Rising epically like a phoenix from ash

  Taking to flight with flame and fire

  To soar upon the clouds of redemption and grace

  To live in goodness and holy desire

  Twas grace poured out like anointing oil

  Dribbling down between our eyes

  Rolling between a cracking smile

  To wash away the darkness in sunrise

  • 1:44 PM
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• A Grief Observed

  Yesterday whilst perusing the libraries of fabled mexican JEws I came across C.S. Lewis, a grief observed. I read it in one sitting and I must say I was fascinated by the process of grief. The epic and beautiful way he expressed his thoughts concerning the beloved H.
  
  I think he wrote so fascinatlingly about someone he loved, mourning for her loss, it was almost like a beautiful love letter.
  
  What really struck me is how 4 months ago I reacted in much the same way to another situation which did not involve death of a physical sort but of a friendship sort. It just brought alot of light to my eyes in the sense of why I felt and was the way I was.
  
  Isn't it fascinating how love must inevitabley end in seperation and death? To the Christians we blow off this concept often throwing out cheesy cliches about being reunited someday. No doubt the saved will rejoice with the saved,this is our great hope. But how frail and futile those comforting words must fall upon the shoulders of one in the depths of sorrow. In the dark night of the soul one does not need answers, or even to be noticed. He needs to pry himself out of his own head and stop thinking in patterns of selfishness, pity, depression. It's almost as if being in a river with a fast current desperatley trying to grasp on to a rock or a tree as thoughts of sadness and grief sweep one down the streams... trying so hard just to think about something other then the drowning water he's struggling to stay afloat in. It suffocates and binds and hurts.
  
  Imagine how it felt for the disciples the night they lost Jesus... if that 30 page letter about coping with loss was about a human with flaws who loved someone deeply. Just think about how much it must have hurt to lose Christ. I really am just starting to grasp how defeated they must have felt and all the more so how victorious they must have felt watching the Messiah rise from the grave like never before seen. Sometimes its hard for me to have empathy for Lazurus and his family, for people experinceing loss... because I have yet to be seared by the scorching pain of death in my life. It's coming, it always does. Inevitabley love must end in the deepest of seperation. The laughing last victory of Satan in the legendary battle of a human life. Yet the goodness of God testifies to the value and worth of such an event. That pain is not wasted and in the end it will be made sensical from the inane. That for me is a tad hard to grasp. But it helps me understand it just a little better. anyways it's a good read... especially if your trying not drown in a river of hurt...

  • 1:36 PM
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