Wake me with my dreams....

Sometimes I wake up and I almost remember that you were with me a moment ago...

Like strains from a song not heard in adult years, 
but only recalled by childhoods thoughts...

It's as though your scent still lingers behind you in the room where i sleep; your dreams and whispers are all i get to keep...

Till the day i witness all you set before me; help me in my heavy eyes not to grow too weary...

Float beside me with trellis untwined; of white water lilies and purple lilacs...

All a kind of humming sonnett; drifting into my head like liquid pools of sweet savorings...

Tragically I lay to waste; all i once believed my heart had need of; the tragedy being i ever believed it at all...

Now let us open the pages of my new memory, designed to taste all i have yet to behold...

Oh my love, it is I; come to stay with you... 

If this is how you will not relinquish my heart; let it be so...

I forget how to say no to you...

Just get into me any way you can; slip in thru the back door cracked open toward you in my head...

Toss the rocks of relentlessness at the breath that still hangs; warm in the window pane...

These are the kisses of the kindness that is you, barreling into me with a gust of wind...

Escaping the grip of my religiosity with the beating drum of a rap beat, against my ear; on my street

You give me miles and miles of mountains; when all i asked for was the sea...

You give me forests and glens, when i longed for a lonely tree...

My undoing couldn't look any lovelier to me than it does now...

And i find that it is my escape and i am finally free from what used to hem me in and hold me close like a slave...

It is in this undoing i am now at rest, and i am finally able to escape myself,and it is so beautiful that i can barely take it

I keep whispering in words unsaid; where is my ram? why am i so unhappy? How is this devestation of my being so lovely to the eye?

But you respond to my unspokenness and whisper
"I need you to choose unhappiness right now,
so that you can see the sad unhappiness of the world,
so you can know their suffering, because their suffering is my suffering;
and I want you to know the suffering of a woman who comes home to a husband that she is stuck with, one that's painful and mean,
 The pain of a man with hardly any friends, and no one to come home to,
The pain of a man who can't walk and can't speak but whose brain functions at levels of genius,
The sadness and overwhelming unsatisfaction of someone who literally has no clue the hope I hold for them,
The sadness of a man and woman who think they can't even call themselves mother and father anymore because their child commited suicide...
And so they don't know that they possess those names in this moment,
The pain of the women with babies surrounding her and smiles sickening her everywhere she turns, toys tumbling over in her friends homes,
and all she carries home with her is her barren womb,
Consider my child; the person who fell away for a season and found their way back only to discover they have no one left to love them?
The bridges are already burnt..."

So many layers of pain in every person, so much grief...

This is my opportunity to see with eyes and hear with ears that are open; that are able to see and to hear...

Because if i can see; that means i can possibly know; and that means if i know, I can love...

When i live; i live inside of colors mind... May 2011

                                  I hear a whisper; "Give into Me"
Burnt Silence is the name of the color i call myself today
Gasping painted blue may be tomorrows only friend
Shoved out purple tries to come out of me on sunday
Painfully expressive green requires my attention inside my childs eyes
Calm ocean gray is the color of my lovers longsuffering
Warm wooded brown is the kindness of the friend who listens instead of talking
Promising hope pink is the mirror i look into trying to look at next week with new eyes
Sea wave green is my gift to myself where i am allowed to be silent and listen to the rythmns of my heart

You come to me, soft, quiet, comforting, in hues of generous gold that listens to the rest of my colors with patience...

old childhood blog

http://notenoughwords.blogspot.com/ is the name of my old blog when i was a teen... haha, just found it today accidentally... really old stuff

friendship

And what is the intention of my satisfaction?

Is the means to the end all the gain of mine?

Will my heart ever learn the lesser, more narrow way?

Bubbling Brooks or deathly stil puddles, don't they both still spell liquid?

But if I claim liquid and then never flow; what good is that?

And if the branded way be the only one that bleeds Your fragrance let it be mine.

If the branches never get the gift of leaves and flowers, let them still bring a glowing heat to your skin, collide with the ax of your gentle love and feel te sting of the match that is your holiness touching me.

I ache to burn, even if it is the death of me.

It is a small way that follows the back roads to your house, and it is always dark when I reach you...

But that is your ravaging love, leaving the light on in the window to call my name as soon as iit touches my windshield...

I'll just sit here a few moments more, and let the sound of the name you call me echo all over my heart...

It's the sweetest flavor to be called friend, so I'm addicted to ruining my tires taking your dangerous backroads, careening down the twist of rock and dirt, all I can think about is the light I know you left on for me, here I come, wait up a little longer...

grief 2

I frantically search for a pen, like that will make my mouth find it's way above these waters, making way for breath...
This is suffocating in a different way, some days I keep my head above water, some days I open my eyes only to find myself deep deep under before I have a chance... The choices and decisions in my day are so large and looming that I find my stomach in my throat even though you said strength would follow me and you said you were leading me... I can only get out a little bit at a time, even pouring myself out on paper makes me feel the sickness I have come to know well... Selah

grief 1

And the pain is so thick I can almost see the blood in my wounds, I can't possibly be sure how long the healing will take... Only losing my firstborn compares to the level of heartache I experience now.... Why did I ask you to ruin me so that I would be good for only you? Is the tearing what it takes to make me lose my tight grip on what makes me human so that i can grab hold of what makes me holy? I cry myself to sleep and I cry myself awake...is this just what true Grief looks like? A literal sickness all over and a cant get away from my heart? And I know it's ugly and it's all the time, but this is the dirt that rubs the pearl that makes me gain...
I hadn't heard you in days and so I wrenched open my gut and pleaded with my life... And just as I was feeling hopeless you said, "I'm right here baby, I'm right beside you... ". Relief flooded me, I just can't last that long without hearing you... Don't do that to me... Friend of my heart...