Courage Lacking

I stare at you, words hanging from the inside of my teeth, ready to bungee jump into the world. Somehow I continue to hold them in place, tying the ropes in knots around the roots of my teeth, allowing the words to be swallowed back down my throat so I can choke on the emotions I am holding back. I wish I could say something.

I always hate the fact that instead of the bravery I so wantonly display as a mask, the fear I long to hide comes forth from the deepest reaches of my soul to grip my limbs in a vice. The fear of being judged pounces on my unprotected psyche, devouring it like a tiger before latching onto my limbs. They shake as if trying to escape before I press them against the scratchy fabric of my sleeves.

How can I say this to you? I want to let the words climb out of the mountain of my insides until they reach the light of day before climbing into your ears and awaking the synapses that lay in there. I wish I had boldness to scream to the world, this is my friend and I am damn proud of her. But instead I stare into the cup of coffee in front of me, letting the tiger sink her claws deeper into my cowardly lion hide that I wear.

So here we sit adrift on an open sea, arms interlocked into a hug but islands that drift further and further from each other with every second that passes because of my lack of courage.

In All Honesty, I hate (My Dis)Honesty

Well, title says it all doesn’t it? But I think it deserves an explanation. This past week, one questions from my college group, FUSION, have been worming under my brain and creating an itch that I can’t seem to scratch as I pen (type) this blog. One of the questions went something like this: as we continue to grow as a community (something I am super excited to see and to be apart of!) what four things: worship, constancy, love, and authenticity, that are essential to community will you have trouble with? Staring at that question I figured, well I can always just skip that question and not answer it. But I thought about it for a while, wondering what my answer would be.

Loving others isn’t as hard for me as it is others. Maybe its because over my life I’ve had my friends be few and far (or so it feels to myself) and when I find them I learn to hang onto them as tight as I can which means showing how much I love them. Worship, well, even if I’m in a funk I find myself worshiping. Consistency? I go every week and the same with small group. But its home to me, so I’d rather be there then anywhere else a lot of the time. Which left me authenticity. The act of being authentic. The third definition for the word of authentic is not an imitation, real, actual. Following after that is being true to one’s personality, spirit, or character.

Ouch.

Owwie.

Pain. Lots of pain.

Those are very very painful definitions to read. Thinking on my life I hate it when I am lied to or my friends withhold something from me. But yet, I went through and thought it was necessary to hide the me I should’ve been proud to be. Layers of make-up helped reinforce a fake smile, while my masks were tied firmly in place. I thought that if I was loud enough, if my smile was bright enough, and if I had all the right lines (you know, I’m fine, just tried, I’m good, the weekend was crazy, school sucks…etc.) that I would get away with it. No one would know the real me, who was wounded and scarred from life.

So here I was, angry at my friends for withholding information but yet, there I was, hiding behind my loudness and smile. I still find myself doing that. Hiding behind the brashness and giving a hollow answer. Which I think leads to the moral of this story. I have a problem with authenticity. I don’t like being real with people. Give me a piece of paper I will pour pieces of my soul that haven’t seen the light in years into it but when it comes to doing that with people, you will see the dust cloud from my running somewhere very far away from the group of people.

This past month more and more “opportunities” have popped (or God has thrown my way….) up where I have to be real and have to bring the me I’ve been keeping locked away from the world. And to be honest, I am mostly hating it. But God has been laying it on my heart, that its something I need to do. Something that needs to happen and that he’s gonna use. How?

I don’t know.

I never really understand why things happen in my life until way later. But to be honest there are still things I truly don’t understand about my life. Or how things have happened and I’m still wondering why they have happened or if I could change it.

But back to the main point here, I have to stop being dishonest. I can’t keep lying to people because it harms the very sense of community I long for and want to strive to create. And to do that, I have to be honest with God. No more being half assed no more only giving him half of my heart. One of my girl friends, Danae, ( I love her to death. told me that she she finally let go and gave a whole bunch of shit up to him. And it struck me that I haven’t done that.

I’ve only given parts and thought that God and I would be okay.

Haha……right.

So now, that leaves me at the end of the first month of the new year with one of my goals staring me straight in the face but with an ammendment to it.

Be open.

But here’s the change:

Be open and be honest, even though it hurts.

Because even if it hurts, there is something beautiful out of it. The real me comes out and can be apart of the community that is around me.

“Honesty: the best of all lost arts”-Mark Twain

The Butterfly

I stare at you once more. I’ve been told that when I stare that it’s become less obvious then the stares I would give in the past. Somehow you keep drawing my eyes back towards you as I take everything about you in. If someone asked me to compare you to something, I would say a butterfly. It maybe odd that I pick an insect to compare you with but yet, I think that nothing else will fit.

But people forget how delicate butterflies truly are. They only see the colors blurring the divide between earth and sky as wings flutter through the air. For a moment all we are entrapped by the beauty we see forgetting the frailty that God created them with. Maybe that’s why I compared you to them when I first met you. For all you beauty it seemed like fragility clung to your shoulders almost as if it created translucent wings seeming to turn you into a fairy.

As I stare, compiling a profile of you in my head I wonder is it wrong. I try to stop this, looking at people, sizing them up, watching actions and listening to words analyzing them to understand them and learn how to avoid them if needed. Looking at my profile I fear that I will judge you on it. That I’ll push away the chance to get to know you and just become friends with the idea that I think you might be.

So where does this leave us as I continue to stare at you? Will you always be the butterfly to me or will you become a friend?

Crazy storms lead to calm waters? Maybe just not yet…but that’s ok :)

I find myself unable to fall asleep yet again. Nothing new when I don’t have work or school the next day but I can feel my brain protesting, groaning for me to go to bed. But I can’t because at the same time its way too wired to go to bed. This weekend was crazy for me as I had a family dinner, some crazy stuff at work, and church, Fusion, and meeting with one of the girls, Sarah Long, to help her with her poetry. That was so much fun. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

At work, stuff got crazy and busy and I totally forgot that I had a family dinner at my grandma’s house. So I got off of work early and decided to head to the used bookstore to just chill out for a bit. As I was driving home, I got a text from my mom (yes she texts. Parents can text. It’s not like there is a law against it.) saying that they would met me at work and then we’d take one car to my grandma’s house

Aw crap, was my first thought as I called my mom. My dad answered the phone and I said I got off of work early and went to look at the used bookstore and forgot but was on my way. Needless to say with him that was strike one. And strike two was that I was dressed in kinda grubby clothes for work. Strike three would be my nerves at dinner getting the best of me and I talked too much. So Saturday was just this whirlwind of stress for me with tons of anxiety because of all the stress and very little time just to process it.

Finally I was able to get away to journal that night, pouring out my heart to God, wondering why my life just seems to be a huge amount of stress right now. But I took up reading Psalm again and Psalm 4:8 stuck out to me as I finished prayer journalling ” In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you oh LORD, make me dwell in safety.” And with how uncertain my life has been getting in the past few weeks this verse just gave me such comfort.

I’m still learning how to trust God with everything and when new troubles come and already stir up the already choppy water of life, I get so worried that I’m going to start sinking and drowning because the problems just seem so big. But looking at that verse, I have to realize that God has got it. My Abba has a plan for all the pain and hurt that causes my life to feel like its just this endless cycle of crazy storms.

I just have to remember that in this boat, Jesus is sitting next to me and is going to calm the storms one day. I just have to continue to pray and trust that the plans He has for me is so much (and I know it is) better than anything I can plan or convince in my own mind. Because in the scheme of things, I’m only seeing just a fraction of a corner of a painting, while God he see’s the whole Sistine Chapel in its entirety.

My waters may not calm for awhile, I understand that. But James 1:2-3 seemed to pop up the past two weeks giving me a reason why my storms might be just what I need “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” – James 1:2-3″ Nobody likes pain. But we have to admit it builds character, it makes us stronger and we learn so much from it. About a month ago I remember praying God help me draw close to you. And I’ve learned to be careful for what I pray for now because I am drawing closer to God through these trials I am facing. (If you want other examples, peace today after having a really bad day yesterday, sharing a part of my story with Fusion-which related to my prayer of being more open, I could go on but I’m hoping you get the idea)

Right now all I know is that staying in the community that I’m in with Fusion, praying, and reading my Bible are the tools I need to continue to keep my boat on top of the water. Now I just need to trust that Jesus has the rest under control and will calm the storm when it fits into his plan.

And with that I leave you with these words:
We fail to see the place of suffering in the broader scheme of things. We fail to see that suffering is an inevitable dimension of life. Because we have lost perspective, we fail to see that unless one is willing to accept suffering properly, he or she is really refusing to continue in the quest for maturity. To refuse suffering is to refuse personal growth.

Henri J. M. Nouwen

Comfort Zones Abandoned: Part 3

In keeping up with this blogging entry series I figured what the heck why not write another entry dealing with my comfort zones and God. But as I was watching for a preview for a new movie coming out, called The Rite, I heard Anthony Hopkins give a creepy voice over but the words are still ringing in my head because they are so true. “As skeptics we are always searching for proof. But what happens when we find it?” And the thing I realized is that for skeptics there is never enough proof for them until they finally just have to accept on faith that there are somethings that they don’t understand.

Webster (yes, I like the dictionary very much thank you. If more people read it or bothered to chose words from it, conversations would have much more class and would be a lot more interesting to contribute too) lists on of the definitions of faith as this “complete trust”. When I saw that I had to read it again. Complete trust. Since around ten years old, I really haven’t completely trusted anything. Always my inner cynic likes to remind me that nothing lasts forever along with its other favorite, people fail you why trust them, they’ll leave at some point.

So when I saw that it said complete trust it threw me for a loop. Odd, I thought I was only not trusting the people in my life but yet, here I was purposely ignoring the fact I did the same to God. Just like the people in my life, I only let God to a certain point of my walls and said, “Sorry God you can’t come any closer.” And I realize that the attitude of defensiveness and mistrust towards God and others has seriously stunted parts of my life.

I can look back and point out parts of my life that would have been so different if I had just trusted. But I can’t change my past. The only thing I can do is change the how I follow God in the present to follow God’s will into the future he has planned for me. I am learning how to take down my walls but there’s more that God wants for me. He wants me to trust him completely.

Which is just a little hard for me. And its hard for me still. But yet, so far here I am doing things because I’ve been trusting. I’ve prayed more in the past two weeks than I did two months ago, I talked about part of my journey at Fusion and I’ve shared most of my story with a few more people. I’m growing as a person because of the trust I’ve had in God.

But its still a process I still don’t get it but I know that it is all going to be worth it in the end. All I have to do is just continue praying for the strength to hold onto my Abba’s hand and to keep taking the steps forward I need to.

Comfort Zones Abandoned: Part 2

Alright so here is my first attempt at public speaking from FUSION last night. I was saying umm a lot because I was nervous.....not my finest moment but hey, God does what he's and use what he's gonna use right?

Comfort Zones abandoned: Part 1

A week ago, I had told my “trust party” that I have shared part of my story and do not wish to for a long while. Sharing the small part I did, it was painful for me. It was scary. Part of the comfort zone that I had built over the period of 6 years that I have used to built my walls as well was stripped away. It left a slowly healing scar free to air and heal from the bandages that I had created to cover it which only left it to fester.

As I was at work this Friday while on break I had received a text message from Facebook. And in it, it contained a message from PC who asked me to trim down my “I AM NOT YOUR LUNCH!” post and share it with our college group, FUSION. My first reaction was, what the hell????!!!! The second thing and I said this out loud while looking up at the ceiling, “I hate you so much at this moment God but I still really love you. But I hate you right now.” (I swear my relationship with God is soooo weird at times, but I love him and He loves me :)

Anyways my first message in reply was, “Ummm, what do you want filed down and read?” Quickly followed by “This is in no way a yes on my part. I would like to know what I might be getting into.” Yesh, can’t you tell I really don’t like to share any part of myself with others (And yet, I expect people to be straight with me…..such an oxymoron) The next thing I did was send a message to my friend Lori ( follow her here http://lorileilani.wordpress.com/) that PC had asked me to speak (The exact wording went like this: Ah! PC asked me to share on sunday and I have no idea what to say in reply to his question)

She called me a little while later to ask me what he exactly wanted to share and I told her about my blog post about winter retreat. Lori encouraged me to share, saying it would be a great opportunity for me. To which I replied, alright I’ll message him back and say yes. I stated I would go through the post and cut it out a lot of stuff leaving me with two pages of how I felt about the retreat and what happened. I shipped it off to PC and began to worry.

And for me, I can worry and worry and worry until it morphs into a restless anxiety that seems to transform my heart into a drum and my hands into dancers as they shake all over the place. But that wouldn’t happen until later in the night. Most of the worry just felt like a stone that was lodged in my gut, weighing my whole body down. At church Sunday morning I ran into Faythe who knew what I was speaking and that I was nervous. We joked that I could be like a puppet and she would just speak for me. :) But we talked about getting together for coffee tomorrow (technically today by the time I post this) before we parted ways until Fusion later tonight. Thankfully as I kept getting worried, my brother and I were able to hang out before Fusion and do some shopping which was really fun and helped me get my mind off of a lot of the stress that has happened over the past week, and the anxiety of speaking in front of everyone later the night. Finally after running around, I grabbed my notes for my speech thingy and hopped into the car to get into Fusion. I toyed with the idea of grabbing some Starbucks but I realized that I was already nervous and the amount of caffeine that is in a Peppermint Mocha would make it worse.

As I was thinking about why I was so anxious while driving to Fusion, it was because I was so afraid of being judged. Like Sarah Long shared at the retreat, she was scared of what others thought of her when she spoke or do something. Even though I wear bright colors or jewelry that I make or even my ear cuff that has two piercings connected to it or my hair dangles, I am very much afraid of people. I am afraid of their thoughts about me and if I will be well liked. Am I a people pleaser? Yes, very much so at times. I want people to like me because I want to be accepted for who I am.

At Fusion, I was still a little nervous as I kept reading over my notes being very anti-social. Walking towards the bathroom to try and make myself look decent before I got in front of the whole group I ran into PC. He stated that he wanted to have me join him and the student leaders (whose ranks include Mary, Lori, Tina, Brian, Spencer, Sarah Long, and Marcos.) in prayer and to talk about how the night would go. In the group I couldn’t help but feel a little bit out of place at that moment but ignored it so I would know what the heck was going to happen. I would talk after worship led by Spencer with Tina and Marcos helping. And then PC would talk. More worship and then we would all head off to coffee.

As we prayed I found myself repeating the prayer in my heart that I had been praying all day “God, I have no idea what I am doing. I know that these words are just words unless you do something. I pray that you allow the Holy Spirit to take these words and use them for your glory.” Walking back towards our meeting place arm in arm with Mary we ran into Faythe and Lori. Quickly I snatch a hug from Faythe, hoping it would help quell the anxiety that I was feeling. She offered to go up with me and be my support but I let my pride answer and say I got it.

During worship my stomach decided to begin doing an acrobatic circus which blew into a full blown Hollywood stunt set as PC got up and began to talk about the winter retreat. My heart was beating a rapid tempo in my chest. It felt like it was taking a sledgehammer against my chest to get out in an attempt to stop me from speaking. People said afterwords I looked confident but I felt anything but as I opened my mouth to begin speaking. But once I began speaking the anxiety slowly faded as the words began to tumble out of my mouth.

I knew what I had written and went a little off script in some places, adding humor and a few thoughts I didn’t throw into my blog. It was weirdly comforting to speak in front of everyone and tell about how it felt to open up to the people in my trust group and how I need to be open with the people in my life and God. As I sat down I realized that Faythe recorded me speaking and she promised to email me it, so that will be the part two of this little series. How many more entries will it span? I don’t know. We’ll see ;)

But as the night ended, Dan (from the trust party) had come up to me thanking me for sharing. I told him that I felt so nervous and that I’m glad he enjoyed it. He then proceeded to tell me how it was ironic that I shared that I didn’t think I would be able to share my story for a long time but here I was, sharing my reaction to the weekend before. And I realized that through PC, God was pushing me out of one of my major comfort zones. Webster defines a comfort zone as “the level at which one functions with ease and familiarity”. And the level that I function at ease with is being a very walled individual that few people (unless they are stubborn enough or have the patience of a saint combined with Gandhi’s level of patience as well) ever get through.

So having to share my thoughts and feelings about something that I have gone through recently, that is way outside of my comfort zone. One could argue that if I didn’t want to share I shouldn’t have blogged it. Just as they can argue if some other speaking gig comes out of this blog and I didn’t want to speak about it I wouldn’t of blogged it. And yes, that argument is very true and wins over anything I can come up with to rebut it. But by writing that blog, I was setting in motion an answer to a prayer that I made a week ago in which I said “God I want to be more open help me.”

And by speaking in front of Fusion, in front of friends and strangers tonight, I gained something. I gained a bit of freedom that I have been longing for almost as bad as water after walking home during the summer heat. I’ve taken a step to abandoning my comfort zones and while I am terrified of leaving, I know that there is something better waiting for me. Something that my Abba Father is just waiting to bless me with at some point. But to get there, I’ve got to continue stepping out. To be open with those who are around me and to the God who loves me. And I find myself grinning at the excitement of where this journey will lead and pray that I will have the strength and trust to continue.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. ” Jeremiah 29:11

Soundtrack of Why

I love music. And all types of music, so its hard for me just to stick with one cd or artist for more than a few hours before I switch to another artist or cd or playlist I’ve made. But this week I’ve been finding myself listening to the band Fireflight more and more. Specifically their cd For Those Who Wait. I’ve had the cd for more than a yearish now and I have yet to truly listen to it all that much. But over this past week I’ve found myself listening to them as my stress levels continue to increase.

Questions keep continuing to bother me while they (stress levels) continue to rise. I don’t understand how only a weekend ago I felt such peace and contentment but now, my life is in full blown stress mode as I sit here, wanting to bite my nails but I don’t have any. I wish my life didn’t always seem to toss and turn so freely from un-stress to stress mode, its like I’m being a shirt being tossed around in the dryer.Meanwhile I feel my soul crying out to God, “Why? Why now?! Why me?” Someone asks why because they seek to understand the situation or the statement that someone says.

I feel like most of my life has been just a series of why questions to God that go unanswered. I may have never known what it is like to go without meals except for when I forgot money for lunch or been forced to go without shelter but to quote Susan E. Isaacs “Mine are just middle-class white girl’s tragedies. But I’m a middle-class white girl, and they’re my tragedies.” There were days in my life, periods in this week were I have just laid in bed thoughts rushing through my head, unbidden and unwelcome, whispering that I had been abandoned by God.

I wish I could have the faith that some of my friends seem to own with a degree of certainty that I don’t seem to have. I can look through the Bible and all I see is words that contradict each other. It bothers me that for all my years in the church (born into a Christian family and raised Christian) that I have such an issue with faith and trusting God.

But as I keep listening to this album it’s almost like God decided to start whispering answering some of those “Do you care questions?” There is a song on the album called Name and it is one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard in my opinion. But its all about how God is there in the hard parts of life and how when we feel so abandoned He is there.

Another song on there that just always gets to me is called What I’ve Overcome. The band just talks about how God has taken them from who and what they’ve been and how it doesn’t own them. My past still something that I struggle with but I look back at the girl I was a year ago, I know that I have grown. And that I have learned much and learned how to love the girl I see in the mirror a bit more each day.

I know I will never have all the answers to every why question I have. If I did, my brain would explode. But I know that God has a plan for it, to be cheesy and continue with the quoting of the songs, there is a track called For Those Who Wait. And in it the lyrics say “When you’re fighting to believe In a love that you can’t see, Just know there is a purpose, For those who wait” I guess the reason why I put such stock in those words is because I know that God has a plan and everything that has happen can be used to help someone else or maybe offer comfort to others.

Now all I have to do is to continue to trust that it will work out, pray that I have the strength to hold onto my Father’s loving hands, and continue to have the courage to be open and real with the people around me.

And I think, that’s not such a bad thing. :)

Another Language

It’s a foreign language to me these words that tumble
Like loose change from my lips.
Shock pools in my stomach as you reply in
The same words that seemed to pour from my lips, unfamiliar and untested by my tongue
Moments ago are returned like a lost pet to my ears
Making an anxious home in my brain.

This language, so similar to me but yet
Different to the receptors in my brain making me
Wonder if I’m translating the sounds from your mouth
Correctly, the lessons of this speech l had almost forgotten
Like the smile of a long lost friend.

Yet these words I know I shall never forget
Despite how many years past as we stand in
The pouring rain, skin soaked until it seems
To be made of the water that has fallen upon it
As you move closer to me, your heat radiating like a sun.

My heart skips as if it was hip hop dancing
Sending my breath into erratic bursts as we inch closer
Wondering if this was how Juliet felt when being courted
By her beloved Romeo in fair Verona so many years ago
Under the beautiful night sky.

You speak again slowly so I can respond to
The words that are being string like pearls on a necklace
Making me feel euphoric as I struggle to keep a
Red hue from making its way across my face
As the melody of words reaches my ears like a symphony

“I love you my darling.” These words make me want
To scream to the heavens with the joy coursing through my veins
As gentle hands move my hair away from my face as you inch
Closer to my red gates, which guard the words I speak
Swallowing my fear that comes with repeating these foreign words

Back to your ears, as I open my mouth I cannot help wondering
Did Esther feel this fear as she walked into Xerxes court to rescue
Her people as I gather my breath to form the words that I
Feel a deep seated need to speak back to you
“I, I,” Hesitation creeps into my heart holding back this un-native tongue

Struggling I close my eyes before opening them
Thankful that you are smiling, hand gently docked
Against my cheek keeping the hesitation at bay as I rest my
Hand against yours before I speak again
“I love you too”

These words send a smile to my face as we
Brush our lips together sending sparks up and down
My spine that travel throughout my body until it
Lights my eyes as they shine in the cloudy landscape
Giggling you gather me into your arms, a castle protecting its princess

“I love you” Foreign words have never sounded so
Sweet and innocent as we continue to stare at each other
Slowly learning another language, love’s sweetly madding language
And the ability to make sense of its strange words



_____

And oh look a happy love poem sneaks its way into my blog. :)

Doubt

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray
For peace that never comes as my legs wrap
Sheets around them restlessly while I toss
And turn as she appears slowly next to me
Wrapped in a fine mist which slowly turns into
A body with black hair covering her face leaving
A single ice blue eye staring from behind the ebony curtain
A cruel smirk painted upon her lips.

Her eyes boring through mine, sharper than
Any dagger’s tip as words bite my soul injecting
Venom far deadly than a cobra’s that begins to
Course through my veins lighting my heart on
Fire with deadly pain.

“Liar,” she coos as finger nails slowly dig in my
Skin leaving beads of fear and anxiety rolling down
My arms like tears that I refuse to let fall
“Why do you pray?” She continues to ask, pulling
Me closer, tightening her grip as my anxiety levels
Begin to rise, my eyes frantically searching for an escape
Pleading for her to let me go

“You know you have problems,
I fear they are much too great for
Anyone to care, much less the man
Upstairs,” she purred so sweet I almost
Forgot that what came from her mouth was
A lie that I had forged in the back of my mind

She continued to hold me all through the night
My faithful companion,
Doubt never left my bed that night.

Do not write of Love

Do not write of love until you are thirty
Until you have worked the nine to five grind
And found yourself a loving mate to come home to at night
For anyone younger than that cannot understand
What passionate fires are awakened in the course of
Love so that when they write the words will not fall on deaf ears

Do not write of love until you are fourty
Until you have held a child that is yours in your arms
And torn out bits of hair in fruitless fustration at the child that you
Continue to chase around the house with jam stained cheeks.
For anyone younger than that can not understand what the protective
Love a mother feel when they go to pen the words that might be writen here.

Do not write of love until you are fifty
When your home is now silent
And it feels like your heart is slowly being rekindled to
Life by the smile that you see in their loving eyes,
While children that are yours and aren’t yours
Send in echos of playful laughter from the outside
For anyone younger than that can not understand what is like to
Fall in love with someone all over again

Do not write of love until you are sixty
And your years are well behind you as you
Sit on the porch wondering what is left of your life
Until your spouse gently coaxs you on a trip around the world
For anyone younger than that can not understand how sweet love
Becomes in age, like a fine wine they have to wait to taste.

Do not write of love until you are seventy
And standing by their grave silent as tears falling
Unchecked from eyes to water the flowers on the grave
Wondering if you could have made the time you both had last
Longer than those last few days that you were give
For anyone younger than can not understand how much it hurts to have
Loved and lost.

So my dear poets do not write of love
Youngesters have no cause to write of love
We who can be lovers, sisters, and mothers to friends and
Those who are closer than family in our young years because we
Have yet to sample its passionate fruit, its forbidden pleasures that
Sends tingles down the spine all because we are too young
To know what love truly is and fall into lust instead
Or so that is what we are told.

Therefore my dears remember as you sit with pen in hand
Waiting for a muse to gently tickle your ear and spill words
Onto your page, do not write of love for we can not truly
Know what love is yet.

__________________

So I guess this poem was just writen out of annoyance of being young and people thinking because of that I am not able to love. I know that a lot of things my age group does doesn’t inspire confidence but stop judging those of us who are mature by the low standards they have set.

Where I am from

A young marriage’s love is how I came to be

A duplex in Old Folsom with an old Oak tree out front was the first place that felt like home.

Childhood days of make believe pass through my mind as I think of my history.

I am from people who danced in pale moonlight under the Irish sky and proud warriors who chanted Poems of old around smoky fires.

Of people who pledged by saying Hial and committed murders and those who pledge neutrality

A child of mobsters and Tuscany and a race who respected Mother Earth.

This is where I am from.

I am from summer vacations to distant states and places that seemed to be heaven on earth

From thoughts of freedom and despair in equal measure

Of letting words and tear bleed from a pen and keeping a smiling face the whole time.

From condescending voices in my head telling me to do better and be the best

I am from hidden dreams that are taboo and cravings that would label me odd

From being a paradox and making perfect sense and that one song that describes me perfectly

I am from crazy car rides with six people in a VW Bug while rocking out to Seventeen Forever and hair Blowing in the breeze down Highway 50.

I am from a privileged background and yet take it for granted

From being the perfect daughter in public and the monster in private cause too many buttons have been pushed that I snap like a guitar string across your hand.

From something going right and friend’s smiles and holding on for the crazy ride of life, grinning like the Cheshire Cat all the while.

I am from making friends and being a teenager.

From growing up fast in some things and not another, learning the secret of life is making something Epic out of shit and counting your blessings and stopping to thank God that you’ve made it through Another day.

This is where I am from and I don’t have a problem with it.

Another old poem I found from a poetry promt my teacher gave me.

The party

Do you think I like the party?
Oh of course you would, that's right
I forgot. You can't see.
A black blindfold is covering your eyes
Always smiling and running with eyes closed
Like a reanimated corpse.

Do you think I like the party?
No, I absolutely without a shadow
Of a doubt, with complete certainty
I can state I
Hate
It.

Do you think I like the party?
The vile blind creatures pitifully
Stumbling back and forth like
Lost children, hiding under blindfolds
With the marks and scars of what they
Do when the lights are out displayed
For all to see as they dance like frenzied winds.
No I don't like the party

Do you think I like the party?
I am only here for you
No one else
Trying to save you, trying to make
You see, to burn away that damn cloth
That covers your eyes and stare you in the face.
To look you in the eyes and finally wonder
If you can truly see me.

Do you think I like the party?
No but I can lie better than you
Because you hate it too.

Another old poem that I'm finally getting around to posting... ^_^; enjoy :)

Orchestral Organic Missives: The Other Half of the Tango

Prelude
I want to be wrapped in you
Until I sing your song

I.
I can hear it. Your heart. It breaks the silence of the room. It beats in time with mine, trying to touch but dancing out of reach. You’re stiff but you are here. I watch. Will you speak? Do you hear me? I’m asking you to speak. I hear your roar and can’t help but smile on the inside. I will watch until you speak to me.

II.
You break the barrier. Distance isn’t an issue anymore as you weave your body into mine. I let you hold me, wrap your legs around me. You anchor me as your chin rests against my throat. I listen to your whispers as the years pass. But my world is cold at times and yet you long to understand. Your work isn’t in vain because it is hard to understand.

III.
We are separated. I dare not count the number of worlds and rules we break by just staring. They were made for a reason as I hid in my dark façade. I try to block you and the sunlight you bring out. I throw black holes and dying stars in my wake, begging you to go. But I am pleased to see that you will cross.

IV.
Gravity is broken. We both collapse, crushed and beaten by reality. Your macrocosm of aneurysms twists the sheets above and below as we both seize in wordless pleasure. My traitor tongue tries to spill the secret we seem to share. But I force it down and keep in its grave. The decay poisons and corrupts my body with your scent and spirit.

Interlude
My words are a tango, danced for your hands (your eyes) alone

Something I wrote after reading a poem online almost a year ago, so enjoy :)

House of Cards

Is our love dead?
I sit and stare out the window, rain
Gently drumming its fingertips against
The window panes while my forehead rests
Against the clammy center of my palm.
Two cups of coffee sit at our dinner table,
Rapidly cooling as I watch you staring at your back.

Is the love broken?
Can I let it go, a life time of memories
Photos splayed on the table telling of
Summers spent under apple trees with laughter
Dancing on the wind, of winters clutching each
Other in the snow as flakes nested in our hair.

My fingers slowly clutch the cup in front of me
As I stare at your back, willing you to break the
Silence that has us ensnared like prey, wishing
You would speak, letting the words I long to hear
Tumble from your lips and fanning the dying flame
In my heart.

How did this happen?
When did we become two strangers being
Perfectly excellent room mates who shared the same
Bed, tangled in sheets with our backs facing each other
When we use to be tangled in the others arms.
We pass in the hall like phantoms now
Barley aware that the other exists.

Will I take the first step?
The fights we had mar the beauty we once
Created as I stare into the murky brown liquid
Before turning away the chair scrapping against the floor
The two of us back to back as the storm rages against
The house of cards we have built

Will you take the first step?
Can I find the strength to stay
To reach out to you and hold out you,
Can you find the strength to do the same
Or will the house of cards collapse all around us?

Finally found the time to go through my poetry and start posting it on here. So enjoy :)

I AM NOT YOUR LUNCH!

( I will warn you this is extremely long and detailed because that is me. If that doesn’t bother you then read on)

This weekend was amazing for me I went on my church’s college winter retreat and had such a blast. I think it also helped that I was treated like I had a brain by everyone instead of a thing that needed to be herded fr0m place to place (And with that I make referance to the way high school ministries seem to be run. And time to get off the bunny trail) Ah but let’s see how to recap the weekend?

Well, the car I was in got lost on the way to get to the retreat. So its me and two other girls, Liz and Regina, in a car, on a windy mountain path lost in the dark…..(cue Twilight Zone theme to be followed by the Halloween soundtrack. XD ) Needless to say we were freaked out because we had no recption in the hills until we finally pulled over at someone’s house and we got bars to call for directions. At said house we met a very nice mix dog whom I dubbed Benji

Finally we made it to camp and spent another five minutes being loss until we found were our college pastor was preaching to everyone else. I really hate the whole walk of shame thing you do when you are late. Plus our pastor then sprung on us that we would be sharing our stories! Yay………not. See the thing is as an interovert, I don’t share. Actually let me repharse that last sentence. See the thing is as a person who as built walls over the past 6ish years and so many of them that I’m starting to get lost, I was not happy.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that as a writer/poet/blogger/listener/reader that stories are important. But to share my story is like pulling teeth from a kicking horse. Its not going to happen very often that I share my story and when I do its really hard and painful for me to tell the whole thing so I leave a lot of it out when I share it with someone.

So our pastor continues and says that there are journals for us that have questions that we need to answer by the next time we met again to hear someone share their story. I head down to my room which I am sharing with the people I rode up with, feeling a little bit sad that all the two rooms my friends where in were completely full :/ Oh well, I thought as I began to unpack setting up my bunk area and pulling out my journals and books I brought. I brushed my teeth and popped out my contacts and began to answer the questions that my pastor had wrote for us. Meanwhile Regina had gotten burned playing a game called Fire ball and we all dropped what we were doing to watch a home made episode of Grey’s Anatomy as her burn was treated. I went back to working on the questions that I was very unhappy with wondering if I was so unhappy with them why am I doing them? I’m not so anti-establishment as I thought. So I won’t be becoming a political activist anytime soon oh well….

The two that stuck out in my mind the most were “what was the time you felt furtherest from God and why?” and “What has God showed you this year?” So twirling my black pen for a minute I placed it against the paper and began to vaguely answer the questions figuring I can bs add more when I share. Finally I went to bed and was awaken at 7:10 by the sound of girls talking and moving around.

One major thing about me is I am not a morning person. Never have been. I need two cups of coffee before you can get a mumbled good morning out of me. Getting ready in the bathroom I had several people say good morning to me but I grunted/growled thingy before five minutes later replying morning. Or I would just hand wave as I stared in the mirror noting that my hair had decided to pick that morning to have part of it stick up like a peacock’s tail feather before folding over in a cockito look.

After gettting ready I quickly walked over to the cafiteria due to A) I was straving B) I was cold and most importantly C) I needed my coffee. After pouring myself a cup of coffee (with five sugar packets and two things of creamer) I sat at a table with the girls from my small group and a few other girls from the college group. We were having a great time eatting, laughing, and just talking. Or in my case, eatting, talking and laughing occasionally, and then reading Wuthering Heights while eatting. I was paying attention to the conversation around me and heard my friend Faythe tell my friend Mary, that she is moving to Fresno in two weeks.

While she made that announcement I quickly and quitely made a hasty retreat to the outside where the cold greatfully decided to hug me. My mind was going a hundred miles a minute. But the only two thoughts I could get out were “God how could you! I need her! This isn’t fair!” and the second was “I need to write.” My feet carried me to a bench that sat above the trail to the meeting area and I sat. Pen in hand a poem began to form as I poured out my hurt into it.

As her friend, I am happy that she is moving and it is where God is leading her, however as a selfish human being who does want to let her go I was upset to the point I was blinking back tears because I am a rock. I don’t cry. I comfort those that do. Finally I had finish writing the poem my heart still wounded as I was slowly realizing that I could no longer feel my extremities. That was a problem. I rushed into my little room area to grab the journal our pastor gave us and to get warm before heading up to the meeting area.

Along the way I ran into my small group leader Sarah who I had managed to convince to wear an eyeliner mustache with me. We put them on in the bathroom before heading to the meeting causing everyone to laugh and the pastor, PC, to say yes someone wore a fake mustache. I love to make people laugh so I had fun doing that. After we had worship my friend Sarah L. (There were three Sarah’s there… XD) got up to share her story and about how she had been in a car crash and God taught her how she needed to trust him and be more open with others.

Looking at her you would never imagine that she would be a speed demon. She is one of the sweetest and kindest people I know and to hear about her car crash and someone screaming at her when she was hurt and freaked out made me want to hunt him down and show him what happens when you are a jack-ass. However it was so amazing to see how brave she was to share that and halfway through it she noticed that Sarah K and I wearing mustaches and cracked everyone up again.

After that one of the guys Brian came up and just shared on how when he tried to control his life it didn’t work out well for him until he let God in. Now both of those stories have a ringing echo in my life. I have tried to control my life only to have it crash and burn in a firey splender and I am not open but need to be as God keeps pushing that fact in my life. After that we broke off into small groups to share the questions we had answered.

I was in a group with Sarah, Sarah S. (the third and final Sarah on the trip), and a guy named Dan. Now me sharing with these people was as likely as a snow storm in July but I could find no way of getting out of sharing. Thankfully both Dan and Sarah went first leaving me and Sarah S.(I have yet to really speak with her about her but from watching her she is like a butterfly, a beautiful fraigle thing) to share later in the night which left me with about 8 hours to come down with the flu or food posioning. Dan shared about his time in Guatemala and how a woman there Tia really influenced him by her strong faith. He shared with us that he wanted to continue to serve the Lord but didn’t think that Guatemala was the place for him to do it as God has called Tia and several other people to help her out.

After that Sarah shared about how she felt really far from God in this past year and how she really couldn’t share that with her mom because of how she was just diagonised with cancer and continued to make jokes about it which hurt her feelings and made her feel like she just couldn’t share. I completely understood how she felt, recalling how when my dad was really sick and the doctors couldn’t figure out what it was (we deduced later it was all the side effects from the drugs he was on that the doctors had given him for his back pain. That is my main reason I will not do drugs other than asprin for cramps and headaches.) he would say how happy we would all be when he was dead and jump up and down on his grave.

And I couldn’t share that with him because I would be told I was being too sensitive (To be honest I think sensitivity is a gift that shouldn’t be made fun of like it is.). After we prayed for the both of them we headed out to our rooms to drop off our stuff and to come back and watch people play Dance Revolution on the Wii. I must admit seeing PC do the robot was pretty awesome Right after lunch I wiped off my mustache and headed into town with Liz, Regina, my friend Lori (0ne of the most artistic and beautiful people I have had the privallege of knowing), Hannah (who was originally my prayer partner on a mission’s trip and now my amazing awesome Ke$ha double friend), her sister Lydia (a very passionate and vibrant strong woman), two girls who I had only just met, Lectia (my book reading buddy who became my friend after punching me in the nose [nothing broke more of a love tap really when I stop to think about it now]), PC (who I really want to hear more slam poetry from at some point), and another girl named Tia (who was in the worship band for the retreat). Three of the guys went with us, John (who had surgery on his shoulder recently), Andrew (who is working towards a Poliy Sci major [I have no idea how to spell the first word to be honest] at UC Davis) and Dan who was in my trust group.

We went to an amazing coffee shop where they had twenty pund bags of coffee just laying out in the window and in the store. It was pretty perfect in my opinon and we all left to go to this book store across the street. And it was the best book store I have ever been in. In every single room there were books stacked on bookshelves with books behind them with an upstairs area that had even more books. One room was just deciated to dvds music and stuff like that. As a group we spent about a half an hour in there and I walked away with 7 gently used books that I have been searching for for quite awhile now.

After that we continued to visit through the downtown area for two hours before returning back to camp. Thankfully I managed to spend most of that alone by taking a shower and heading to the cafiteria to read Jane Erye (to let you know all of the books I bought were published before or during the 1920′s originally) in front of a huge fire. It was a perfect way for me to just recharge and relax, my eyes plunging my brain into the 18th centuary while the cracking fire did little to distrub my consintration.

A half an hour later I was surrounded by friends occisionally offering a word or two into the conversations and agreeing with my friend Lori that we needed to start a book club for our college group. Soon dinner was served and I enjoyed the company of my friends, still trying to plot a way out of sharing my life. My brain began to toy with the idea of chicken pox but I didn’t think my red ink pen would do a very convincing job of making me look sick. I would probably look like my skin unleashed an attack of pimples on me.

Subjecting myself to my fate, I headed back to my room to grab my bible and journal and headed up to the meeting place. Sitting next to Faythe I wondered if I couldn’t escape before the “trust circle”as Sarah called it. Two more of the guys shared after the band, my friend Zack and another one of the guys Cameron shared. Zack talked about how he has done so many missions trips but never really thought about how much money was spent on his faith and how he sees all these people who have nothing have such a great faith. He felt like God was calling him to abide in him to make his faith stronger.

Cameron meanwhile told about his life and struggle with drugs and ending up in jail. And I just sat there listening to both of them and I felt like such a failure, like who was I to sit here and thinking my life was horrible when Cameron had gone to prison and had all these things happened to him. And it was something that PC warned about because here I was comparing my story with his, forgetting that God gave me my story for a reason. After they shared we broke off into our small group (Sarah decided to name it the Trust party and we came up with a sign for it.

Both Sarah and Sarah S. tried to get me to go first but I balked, my leg slowly began to move. As Sarah S. shared it shifted gears into rapid bouncing as I felt my pulse began to violent beat against my chest. This was something that I did not want to do and I didn’t care if I made myself sick because of how freaked out I was. I had built the walls I had for over the past 6 years, they were there to protect me, my head screamed as I slowly began to breath again focusing on listening to Sarah S. tell her story. The thing that made me so jealous of her for a felting second was that God was proud of her. To be honest I’m not sure if I can even claim that when I heard her say that.

Then they looked at me, awaiting for me to speak. I briefly wondered if I could run before they noticed I was gone. But I then remember that they were looking at me. Taking a breath I began to share, my brain trying to keep too much from slipping out. I told how I felt so far from God last year,the darkness that threatened to swallow me whole but didn’t, and finally how God wrestled with my stubbornness to bring me back to him. And finally how God has been saying throught the people in my life “It’s time to let go of those walls that you built.” After that Sarah asked me questions on my story drawing out more details to cover the very gray picture I left before praying for me and we decided to make a coffee date to answer more of her questions that I had left unanswered.

After that I hid out in my room, wanting to just forget this aching that was in my chest screaming so many things at me. I found Faythe after a few hours and she braided my hair, I just sat there enjoying the feeling of my hair being braided becoming slightly restless when she began to ask me questions. We sat after she braided my hair, her words explaining how excited she was going back to work at Fresno for the college she graduated. The words “I’m happy for you.” came out before I could catch them by the dam of my coffee stained teeth.

I began to become quieter wondering if I could fade into the fabric of the chair I was sitting. Faythe began to stare at me harder as if I was blurring into a hazy memory that she was desprite to remember while the conversation turned into something painful for me. We switched it to something lighter although she left me with the advice/order from a friend to go read my bible and journal. So I did. I was up until three journaling before crawling into bed and falling asleep.

Four hours of sleep later I woke up and actually felt alert and calm. I actually said good morning to people before heading up to the cafiteria to read James and journal. Faythe came later with Cameron and Sarah and the two of them invited Liz, who had joined me in sitting, and myself to join them in life journaling. So the six of us sat down with our Bibles and read two chapters in Genesis and a chapter in Luke. I said that the thing that stood out to me in Genesis was that how in the passage that the guy who was speaking had such faith that his prayer would be answered and how specific he was. So I said that I needed to have that faith and specificness in my prayers.

After breakfeast and our last worship sesson, Sarah and I made plans for coffee and I headed home.

That weekend was amazing. I learned so much being around my friends and hearing the stories.

I learned that I’ve got to keep going on this openness and how to be closer to God with that.

I will continue this journey. I don’t know where it leads, I know it won’t be easy but its okay. I will have friends to help me when I stumble and a God who is there to guide me along the way. And now it is late and I am off to bed. Goodnight

(Longest blog entry ever!)