A Thought of Sorts

Hope is a beautiful thing. 

From hope springs faith, faith produces action and action fulfills hope. 

But we, as humans, often squish hope before it even gets to faith. We tell ourselves it will never happen. We aren’t good enough. We will never be good enough. These words are not our own. They are a product of long letting satan in to our lives. Letting him run it. Proverbs 13-12 says that “Hope deferred makes the heart sick.” We keep deferring our hope to those lies he whispers in our ears. 

Hope is like prophesy.   

We say we believe it exists, that it works. But when it comes time to prophesy, time to hope for that which God told us we would get, we suddenly become timid. Our prayers say ‘your will be done’ as if His feet will walk us right to our destiny. When we move, with faith that tugs us forward until we tip, God takes that as an indication that we want all he has for us. 

You are a house and you choose who you let come in. 

The greatest (and most frightening) gift God ever gave us was our free will to choose. The most beautiful gift we can give to him, our dear creator, is to surrender our free will. Hebrews 11:1 says “faith is being sure of what we hope for.” My hope is only ever for a relationship with that which formed me.

Doesn’t it feel nice to hope? 

It brushes like a wing against your heart and for a moment, all that pain and sorrow, all that this earth has set on your back, stone by stone until you feel buried alive, Hope lays off the load. Hope allows you, for that kind minute you let it, to take the kind of full, pure breath God intended you to breathe. 

Hope is one of the great forms of worship. 

What else could we give our God than this? To pray with that kind of hope, to sing with that kind of hope, to love with that kind of hope. 

Hope will build the house you live in. Hope will destroy any addiction. Hope will make your heart blind to the faults of others. Hope will show you how to love like Jesus did. 

Hope is a great gift. 

Take it. 

Give it. 

For our father, who has created great things for his children, would not give you anything that would harm you. 

Hope is a house.

Live in it. 

This is ROWR

I was just fretting. I hate doing that. 'Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?' (Matthew 6:27) Worry<Worship. I forgot I had you to talk to. It has been a while has it not? The comfort is that you cannot reject me, but that comfort, I suppose, makes me rather lazy. As to the Gift, here it is.
I love you for your kindness of ear and mind.


It's a Magical World

Man-junkies swinging
the streetcops like tennis shoes
up the high-wires

they balancebean their arms
and puncture pattern the ectoplasm
like laces, Anne's and blood clots

the clouds they hang from
like martyrs, they moan
and fight the bit-

Riders of Leprosy
gods of their Own
crucified on the hot-shot

The Key to Happiness

Happiness is probably the most difficult state of mind. To wake up every morning and decide that today you are going to smile and praise the day even though you hold that unhappy sadness inside of you: that is not easy. To smile at the face of adversity is to be very very brave. The truth is, life rapes us all. (If you'll excuse the disturbing metaphor; it's true though.) What changes us is the way and intensity in which we are raped. Some of us are a dark alley and five hateful men. And some of us are a date gone wrong. In all honesty, my life has been pretty gravy. I have experenced lifes little twitches, little scratches in the glass. Sure, people I love have died. But death is as much a part of life as birth. I believe death is a beautiful passage rather than the closing of a book. Sure, bad things have happened to me. But they have happened to us all. I got through it all. Alive. Happy. No. Not just happy. Joyful. Joyful about the life I've been given. I have people to love, words to write, a job to complain contentedly about, a school to create at, the ability to be magnanimous to anyone and everyone I meet. I don't want to come off as a total cornball that is The Glass Is All The Way Full about everything. Shit happens. That is how it is. But the most selfish thing you can do with your life is to be unhappy and angry about everything and everyone. Hatred is easy, love is hard. It is easy to slip into anger and unhappiness and blame this and that for what happens in your life. It is easy to gift blame than to take it. Therefore, I propose we try something new. Because I am getting a little tired of watching people hit walls and bruise only their own fists in the process. It is high time we all get a little happy. A little goofy. A little stupid. Laugh when we fall. Laugh when others do. Take up the Bise- bise, (the French cheek-kiss). Try this with me. One, Two, Three.....SMILE. It does not have to be a real one. Just pull your lips across your teeth in a smile shape. Thats it. Practice it. Perfect it. Happiness start with the choice to be so. It will rarely be easy, but soon, it will be natural. So smile, hug, compliment strangers, compliment yourself. And be joyful. It is remarkable what it does for your complexion. Call me crazy. Call me a yuppy. Do it, I dare you. I'm happy, are you?

Something New

I wrote something new. I had a good time. I am sleepy.

From the Sky

Infantry of infinite     mordant marches

martyrs of melodic    turret-

ballgunners with w    ell wet fuzz

motherly they mar     row

and mellow the ye     llow

sun to pink plush a    nd death and

BANG(Damnthos     e commie-rats anyway)

I have nothing to sa-POEM

I really have nothing to say. And, frankly, no time to say it in. Homework, getting my lasagna on (Literally) and then hating myself for being such a big pig. (YOU CAN BE A BIG PIG TOO, OI!) So, it's your turn to talk, tell me your thoughts, ideas/ideals and what you are planning on eating in the next hour (I told you, now it's your turn!). Thus, I leave you with a poem. Spark away my loves, lets battle!


If Nobody is Guilty, Who Can be Innocent?

Whip-o-whisp
a secret told to the stars
(Trustworthy little suns)
Sparkle
Tickle the heart
with a
Shot
Gun
          (It’s just a little kiss…)
I ripped your
chemise
right      off
a split up a pale curtain
you, god-perfect
           (So much more
paleflesh underneath…)
Oh,

but how you smiled

a sparrow
after the rain has cried
             
And, oh, how beautiful you are
I miss the sprawlofyourhair-listless
                                                        lazy
                                                             bedded-down
In the mess we
DRAGON-flies
in the midnoon

Gosh, we got dirty, doll
Nude-naked
down to the bourbon

(I lau-gh-ed at your shy/eyes)

But now my room is just me
and your laugh
               (ECHOS)
round like a spiders web

I wish I hadn’t
let
your
hips
sway
AWAY
          (Not goodbye yet…)

For the Love of Sunlight

I saw the most beautiful thing today. A woman was standing in front of me as I walked past, chatting with no one I knew. She had that dark, black black skin that Africans are so lucky to have. It was smooth and almost pearly and so lovely dark you felt as if you could reach your hand right into it and lose yourself. She had her hair shaven close with those pin-wheel curls hugging her skull and eyes pale to her skin, bright and fiery like a lions. Kissing lips and high cheeks that made her look as if she was smiling all the time. A person so worthy of a poem, I had not found. And I, with my pale freckle-flawed skin, my in-between eyes that cannot choose green or grey and often insist on being both, was completely and utterly enamored with her. Nothing about her was faked, pinched, poked, painted or dyed. She was a dark water with a smile just like sunshine.  I wanted to touch that skin, to find if it was exactly what I thought it was. I wanted to talk to her, to find out the ideas she hid behind the hunter-hunger of those lion eyes. I wanted to smile at her, to see her face mirror the expression of my own, though hers a more perfect impression. She was wild and tamed and shy as the sky. I wanted to stop and tell her all of this. But I didn't. I stared slack-jawed at her and kept on walking. So here is my remedy to you, lion-eyed stranger, I want to give you a poem, for a poem is all I have to give.

Oh water-clear sunshine,
reflect from a shoulder

a dark one, a depth of heat
created by the bright
white light

a stand-up soap-box
a rebel in the Savannah grass

you the perfect pearl
the sea-man's boon

you the panther in the shade
graceful and smooth like a river-rock

you the most perfect child of Ra
gift to the sheep in the blue edged sky

you-a dream
a creation of slumber

for you,
you cannot be of this world.

An Update on Daily Life (Love) Here in the Loop-De-Loop House

School.
School...
      SCHool.
SHCOOL,
Or not. Something like that. And work. Food (Delicious, delicious fooooooooood) While we are on the subject of eating, does anybody have good recipes for me? I like food. A lot. Also, you can cook for me. I like to eat. A lot. I need to get married to a cook. Yum. ONWARD! (Huzzah!) I visited my local mom-and-pop bookstore. (I am usually a library rat, because I'm cheap and like to dog-ear corners with little or no retribution for it.) I walked in and the sweet smell of new/used books overwhelmed me and DRUNK
on the sweet scent I bought many books.
      Also, I had a lovely conversation with the gentleman at customer service. He suggested to me many great comic books, which I bought, because I am a newly discovered comic book junkie. I plan to have a scandalous love affair with that book store! I will love her, but use her to my hearts content.

MMMMMMMMmmmmmmhmmmm!
       
     I have books trip-patterned around my bed. I will be WRITING this weekend. SO MUCH. Be prepared! My SocSci exam got moved a week later so the cramming I was going to be doing this weekend with be happening next weekend! I love that! I have a head filled with poetry words and songs and they gnaw at my lips. If I start spouting poetry to a customer at work today we can all just blame it on a busy with with little to no time for my love...
Love love love
In love
Loving this life
Gosh, I've had too much coffee
BUT LOVE
LOVE
LOVING IT
I put a heart sticker on my arm
Thought you should know.
It's sticking around for a while...
I wish to laugh
I wish to love
I wish to be
forever on this earth
a happiness to those I encounter
                                          (I wish to quit coffee and take up tea)
   Oh....
By the way

(Are you ready?)

No? Yes?

                Maybe??

POEM!



Stranger

You stared out the windows
at the chattering birch trees,
your eyes dancing with
the silver-dollar leaves.

I was enamored with you

You wrapped your body’s motion
around the people with you,
small steps and touches
making you a silent sway,
moving your air to create separation
and to break it apart

I was enraptured by you

When I spoke to you
your eyes touched me
I could feel them
ticking off you my cheeks
sliding over my lips

I wanted to kiss you with them

I imagined you a fairy-tale
waiting for your prince to come
with dandelion-duff eyes.

Your hands spring past each other
A rhythm they own
sliding over your knees
creating triangles on your thighs

I wanted your hands in mine

You smiled at me
kindly as pale silk
an origami butterfly
with a poem inside your heart

I was in love with you

Soft-eyed stranger
I am in love with you.



This one is/will be published at Daily Love. They are great. Check them out.  TA-DA!!!!!!!! http://www.dailylove.net/.....

I am going to work now. Bises-bises...