It's funny, everytime I attempt to start something new I want to start things off on the right foot. You know, with a real zinger. The problem is that often times when I'm in a position to begin, the the magic cloud of inspiration is perpetually on the horizon. Tomorrow is always the best day to start something new and tomorrow never becomes today. Suffice to say that sometimes the only way to really initiate a new beginnig is to reconcile the impossibility of time travel and make tomorrow, today. As daunting as this may seem, impossible things are accomplished everyday, including me even making the bed from time to time.. maybe.
Well, it seems to me that every time I even consider sitting down and writing something, I find myself faced with a slew of questions. Like, why am I writing something down? What am I going to write? Am I going to read this later and realize how nerdy I am? Nope, I'm definitely 100% aware of that. Anyway, I'm not sure what brings up questions instead of just inspiration making an appearance and flowing through my fingers onto the paper in mind-blowing artistic expression.. or something like that.
It seems to me, however, that discipline, a little self-realism and stretching a bit into wierd ritual like blogging could have some benefits to it. So we'll see. Maybe I'll give it a shot.. maybe, tomorrow.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Friday, December 1, 2006
The Empire
He builds His art into an empire, fashioned deftly with His tongue.
As His lyrics are created, raising buildings one by one.
These skyscrapers cover the horizon, obscuring any vision.
But it doesn’t matter what you see ‘cause all that you can do is listen.
As the sidewalk that you’re standing on is jolted in a roar,
And the words that follow knock you down and bolt you to the floor.
He lets loose a new verse and then adds it to the masses,
Then you see a form rise up, appearing tall and thin with glasses.
Where there had been only air now stands a human being.
You have to blink before you start believing what you’re seeing.
He walks towards you and extends a hand to help you to your feet.
And in his palm you feel the rhythm he was made to beat.
You turn and walk away with a new mindset and new passion,
Maybe this isn’t accident, maybe we were fashioned.
Maybe I have purpose and my life is art itself.
But I won’t hang on a wall and I won’t sit on a shelf.
I won’t be consumed by this world,
Or caught up in the wealth,
‘Cause my life is being shaped and held,
By the hands of something else.
As His lyrics are created, raising buildings one by one.
These skyscrapers cover the horizon, obscuring any vision.
But it doesn’t matter what you see ‘cause all that you can do is listen.
As the sidewalk that you’re standing on is jolted in a roar,
And the words that follow knock you down and bolt you to the floor.
He lets loose a new verse and then adds it to the masses,
Then you see a form rise up, appearing tall and thin with glasses.
Where there had been only air now stands a human being.
You have to blink before you start believing what you’re seeing.
He walks towards you and extends a hand to help you to your feet.
And in his palm you feel the rhythm he was made to beat.
You turn and walk away with a new mindset and new passion,
Maybe this isn’t accident, maybe we were fashioned.
Maybe I have purpose and my life is art itself.
But I won’t hang on a wall and I won’t sit on a shelf.
I won’t be consumed by this world,
Or caught up in the wealth,
‘Cause my life is being shaped and held,
By the hands of something else.
Friday, November 10, 2006
The Struggle
My eyes opened to an inky blackness, I stood enveloped and still.
Any comfort quickly vanished as I felt repulsively ill.
It’s not until I tried to move that my mind raced and my heart stopped in an icy chill.
These chains which bound my limbs to stone were secured against my will.
I twisted and writhed with all my might but this steel was just too great.
The fight ensued with rabid cries as flesh met chains of hate.
My heart now pounded a murderous rage, the chains pulled taut and strained.
The blood ran freely down this skin, these wounds were all I’d gained.
My binds went slack and I collapsed exhausted and losing of hope.
Through the oppressive darkness my bruising hands began to grope.
As my fingers clawed the stone and steel I felt suddenly provoked.
With deafening silence bearing down I stood up straight and spoke.
I talked of all the things gone wrong, of life and its demise.
I talked of people walked upon and all the unheard cries.
I grasped my anger and resentment and began to verbalize.
“The world is damned, there is no hope! Does that come as a surprise!?”
The hours passed and I grew faint but still I shouted strong.
I raised my hands and yelled louder still, daring the darkness to prove me wrong.
Then lights flicked on and I stood shocked as I stared across the throng.
Surrounding me was every person I knew and some I’d thought long gone.
At first they stood in silence, soaking in my tattered appearance and blatant flaws.
But then what started with a single clap rose to a thunderous applause.
Some stood with tears and some with smiles but all of them stood proud;
To say that they all know a man who spoke against the crowd.
Any comfort quickly vanished as I felt repulsively ill.
It’s not until I tried to move that my mind raced and my heart stopped in an icy chill.
These chains which bound my limbs to stone were secured against my will.
I twisted and writhed with all my might but this steel was just too great.
The fight ensued with rabid cries as flesh met chains of hate.
My heart now pounded a murderous rage, the chains pulled taut and strained.
The blood ran freely down this skin, these wounds were all I’d gained.
My binds went slack and I collapsed exhausted and losing of hope.
Through the oppressive darkness my bruising hands began to grope.
As my fingers clawed the stone and steel I felt suddenly provoked.
With deafening silence bearing down I stood up straight and spoke.
I talked of all the things gone wrong, of life and its demise.
I talked of people walked upon and all the unheard cries.
I grasped my anger and resentment and began to verbalize.
“The world is damned, there is no hope! Does that come as a surprise!?”
The hours passed and I grew faint but still I shouted strong.
I raised my hands and yelled louder still, daring the darkness to prove me wrong.
Then lights flicked on and I stood shocked as I stared across the throng.
Surrounding me was every person I knew and some I’d thought long gone.
At first they stood in silence, soaking in my tattered appearance and blatant flaws.
But then what started with a single clap rose to a thunderous applause.
Some stood with tears and some with smiles but all of them stood proud;
To say that they all know a man who spoke against the crowd.
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