A Poem for January

Drifting, shifting snow
Bright, white tiny flakes
Swirling, blowing in the wind
Silver, soft endless waves
Deep, shimmering reflects
The moonlight's gentlest glow

We Hadn't Seen Eachother Since College

I brushed her hair out of her eyes 

And I swear I didn't mean anything by it

But a few weeks later

And a few dinks later

And we were touching eachother

It came out of nowhere

And ended before I wished it to be over

But she's married

And regret is that sinking feeling of crushing guilt

Excuses are like vagabonds

We all tolerate them

Even though they smell like shit

Because we know it's not their fault

And like I said before

It really was an accident

Even though my hands had no problem

Moving up her leg and under her skirt

I think it was her captivating eyes

Or maybe her musical laugh

And I can't stand to imagine 

The red hand on her face when she tells

Or the tears streaming her mascara

And maybe a few weeks later

And some sleepless nights later

We'll see eachother again

Standing, stammering

In a grocery store perhaps

And we'll know that it's all over

We'll see it in eachother's eyes

End

Spaghetti & Meatsauce

I've been in a strange sense of mind lately, a place of constant flashbacks to my childhood.

Images, tastes, smells...

The way the air feels in my lungs, the way the dirt feels on my feet.

I look back, and realize now that I've been lying to myself, and the others. I've always denied that I was raised in Kansas, claiming my youngest years as an army brat as my only source of who I've become.

The truth is, Hawaii is a distant memory. One that I cling to desperately... the seashore, and the cold, fat drops of rain... But I moved to Kansas when I was like nine or ten, and Kansas is really where I became who I am now.

I was raised under thunderstorms, in a crumbling capital city, against the endless amber waves of grain. That is the ocean I am most familiar with, and the flint hills are the sea billows on which I sail.

Childhood desires... long hours spent daydreaming and becoming lost in my imagination.

I can honestly say that I can picture myself living in Manhattan forever...

Yet, somehow... my heart still lies with the sea.

End

A Safe Harbor

Stumbling onto the beach, Grayson coughed and gagged on the salty sea water. He plopped onto the sandy shore, rolling over onto his back. The sky was thick with the remnants of the storm, and the air smelled of salt and ozone. He breathed heavily, soaked to the bone, and shivering cold. As the sun slipped like a blood-red flame over the brooding horizon, a single thought lashed out at his brain. It was going to be a long night. 

After lying on the beach for several long moments, he slowly rose to his feet and looked out over the harbor. His stormy grey eyes were matched by the rushing sky overhead. It seemed to him that the shoreline created a natural bowl, with cliffs in the distance on his right, and rocky sandbars to his left. Having barely escaped the clutches of the ocean's tide, he felt lucky to be alive. Still, if the storm stirred back up, it would be terrible to be caught unprotected on the naked beach. 

He trudged further up the shoreline, driven only by the promise of future rest and safety. After some distance, he found himself in the scraggly hills, surrounded by shrubs and small trees. He started gathering branches, and made a small pile of them at the base of the largest tree. He felt his pockets for matches, a lighter, anything. To no avail. He stopped looking when he realized it wouldn't matter anyway, his firewood was just as drowned as he was. The clouds overhead boiled like a witch's cauldron, with whips of lightning cracking to and fro. 

It was going to be a long night.

In the distance, over the sea billows rise, he could see chunks of his craft being tossed like driftwood. He could only hope the transponder was somehow working, that help would come his way. Darkness fell like a curtain, and far in the distant jungle, animals roared and screamed. Grayson curled up in a ball at the foot of his tree. Arm under his head, he shut his eyes, with prayers for safety on his tongue. Maybe he could catch some sleep before the torrential downpour began again.

He drifted in and out of delirium, images of the nightmarish depths haunting his fitful slumber. True rest eluded him. Finally, he gave up the fight, and sat up. Thunder rolled, echoing off the cliff face. He wondered if he would be any safer in the jungle. It was quite a hike to the edge, but maybe he would find better shelter there. 'Or maybe,' he thought, 'I'll be eaten...'

A strange iridescence lit the night sky. Constantly flickering lightning mixed with thinly veiled moonlight. The beach and the jungle beyond seemed askew. Like the earth was somehow angled wrongly, sloping upward and just off center. 

Grayson walked for what seemed like hours before reaching the jungle's edge. Massive trees rose to the sky, blocking out the shimmering clouds. An unfathomable darkness stretched before him, an inky black tangle of vines and brush and trees. He hesitated. Standing tall, he stepped into the darkness. He could feel his pupils dilating, straining for any sign of light. He kept the beach to his back, and, not daring to venture to far in the darkness, he found a small group of bushes with a small hollow beneath them which seemed relatively dry and warm. If it were unoccupied, it would make a perfect shelter for the night, however much was left of it, anyhow.

To be continued...

The Circle of Life

The forest is an endless sea, of trees a thousand feet high. A million tangled branches, a billion rustling leaves. Above the canopy the mountains rise, beneath it lies eternal night. Moonlight breaks over the horizon, as the bats rise into the sky. On a mountain’s peak over the valley below, a centaur keeps a watchful eye. The stars are wheeling high above, a dance of swirling light. The brilliant lights shine out in space, an intricate design.

Shifting smoke from fires lift ashy fingers to the night. The fires offer warmth and light and keep the darkness at bay. A swift shadowy movement catches the elder’s eye, dark running shapes between the trees. The centaur reaches for his horn, lips pursed to sound the alarm. It's easy for the hungry beasts to pick off an innocent life.

He glances at the constellations, a reflection glimmers in his eyes. He sighs a sad but resolute sigh, and returns his horn to his side. A growling, tearing, bloody mess is made by a campfire bright. The stars made it clear, the harmless creature’s end was here. And the centaur would always obey. A stifled gurgling scream died down, echoing off the mountains high. And a stillness returned to the night. A single tear for the innocent life, and the stars keep the balances right.

End

Personal Day

The perpetual rain plummets downward

Pelting the siding and the pains of glass

We don't mind because we stay inside

All day and night just touching each other

Sipping wine, turning the sheets less white

It's like white noise in the background

Rolls of distant thunder, lightning flickers

We look into each others eyes and hope

The weather never stops and never clears

A thinly veiled excuse to stay here forever

End

"There and Back Again" or "An Unexpcted Journey"

Sleep comes quickly and lights upon me like a hawk.

It's long curved talons reach subtly into my mind,

Then it rises on the current of the cosmos into the world that's undefined.

That strange place of cliffs and caves and wind,

A swirling starry night of cumulous clouds and lightning.

My dreams run by like many waters, a current of colors and scenes rush by.

Still higher past the plain of reason, past the fourth and fifth dimensions...

A clap of hyper-rational thunder,

An understanding lands in my skull like a salmon in the paws of a bear.

The tapestry of reality untwines like the laces of a corset,

And time and space are laid bare.

Nothing is real.

I drift and sift through walls and laws, avoiding natural physics and math with all its flaws.

A snap, and the hawk releases its grip, my mind is slipping,

Falling back through all the layers and down the winding stairs.

If I can't wake up before I land, I know I'll sleep forever.

A shattered subconscious in a broken earthly shell.

End

My Highschool Grad Video

The video / slideshow I made for my Highschool graduation. 

Posted here because facebook is a menace!

Sorry about all the redeye. 

Enjoy!

G

Skellingtons

My wife just got back from Bible camp, and I guess I have been feeling... angsty or jealous or less spiritual than her. I know this is the wrong attitude to take, but since I am a constantly contrasted individual, part of me doesn't want to change. I don't want to grow, or be challenged, or rise to the occasion. Yet, the better half of me desperately seeks to grow, to be challenged, to exceed even my own expectations. This morning, I decided to go with the latter. 

After finishing my meager breakfast of Bel-Vita biscuits and Earl Grey tea, I still felt hungry, but not for food, or at least not only for more food. Reluctantly, grumbling beneath my breath like an infidel, I asked my wife to pass me her Bible. Now, just to give you some context, my wife does this thing with the Bible, which has on several occasions been very powerful. She will thumb through it without looking until she feels led to read a passage. It is usually exactly what she needs. Often, she will continue on to read more and more passages, each confirming or deepening the message of the first. I have witnessed the power of this practice on several occasions, but felt largely uncomfortable with it. You see, my parents pretty much ground all of the mysticism out of my religion. Not intentionally, in fact, I think they would be rather saddened to hear this, but I was basically taught to view with skepticism anything which seemed mystical in nature. Despite all this, I decided to try it for myself this morning. 

Nervously, I looked at the golden edges of her Bible, wondering what I should read. Noticing a small gap in the pages, I opened it very carefully to that spot. It felt like sparks. The passage it opened to was one that I have been thinking about, meditating on, and generally mulling over for about six months now, but for whatever reason, simply haven't picked up the scripture and read. It also happens to be one of the weirdest passages in the Bible. 

Ezekiel 37: 1-14, "The Valley of Dry Bones."

The hand of the LORD was upon me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the LORD and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. 
He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones live?" 
I said, "O Sovereign LORD, you alone know." 
Then he said to me, "Prophesy to these bones and say to them, 'Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! This is what the Sovereign LORD says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the LORD.' " 
So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them. 
Then he said to me, "Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, 'This is what the Sovereign LORD says: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into these slain, that they may live.' " 
So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet--a vast army. 
Then he said to me: "Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, 'Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.' Therefore prophesy and say to them: 'This is what the Sovereign LORD says: O my people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel. Then you, my people, will know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the LORD have spoken, and I have done it, declares the LORD.' " (NIV)

What this means, or how it applies to my life, I currently only have tremors, or inklings. I know that this scripture is connected to me on a very deep level, and I will not yet cease to digest it spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. I do know that it has something to do with my own spiritual revitalization, that he will grow sinew and skin for the bones of my religious understanding; and breathe life into my dusty heart. I know that he wants to teach me to help others find the same thing. 

I also see the end of times in my mind’s eye. Literal bodies rising from their graves; and nations torn apart and reformed according to his will. 

What I have learned, however, is that my heart yearns for a more mystical connection to my Heavenly Father, YHWH... to be able to seek him in all of his power and mystery, without being tortured by my twisted and lacking mind, without constant skepticism or fear of somehow screwing up. I believe he transcends understanding and earthly things, that he is an incomprehensibly beautiful being who's very existence and nature defy our current understanding and who laughs at our highest intellect whilst wrapping us in his dancing fire and whispering his love into our hearts unabashedly. 

I want to draw near to him with reckless abandon, and have my being transformed by his deep magic.

End?