Around Us

Is it there?
What is going on?
What moved?

Goosebumps rumble over my skin,
I can only peer into the darkness for answers,
Shadows shift,
Floor creeks as I look left,
then right,
Like I am in the middle of a keep away game,
I twist and turn looking for a figure,
A hand,
As I reach over to the pull chain,
It is if the being drops to the floor,
Flopping and shifting on the ground,
The illumination only reveals the empty space,
Shadows have crept under my bed,
Teddy Ruksbin keeping me safe,
Now I can fall asleep again.

Wine

Flowing red fermented juice cultivates me,
Brings life of relaxation,
But not entrapment,
It flows in my glass,
Smells of Oak barrels,
Fine berries,
Luscious flowers,
Invigorating my pallet,
Falling off my tongue,
Slowly down my throat,
I wait to partake in more.

Pain of Life

Just the thoughts of being posted there

Break my insides in two

Each knock shocks my body

Tears form

As a scream to the heavens

Through the pulsating pain

Opens the clouds

He looks down

Only to feel ashamed

And broken

One last breathe is let out

Of his ravaged body

Darkness falls

As a angry storm

Rolls in

Rain drops feel like bombs

Heavy and bursting

As they hit the ground

Like my tears

Being covered by the rain

I just sit there soaked

and in awe of His love

Scars of Love

My fingers went right through

Your bleeding hole in your hand

Edges are scarred tissue curling over

Flesh ravaged and mended

Your hands are still held out

Even through the blood curdling pain

I fall into your glorious arms

Softness of your white linen garment

feels like a cloud drifting in the breeze

Wounds still don't stop me from asking for help

Your gracious words curl my mouth with joy

And I am Home.

Water Pressure

Even with the sun burning down,

I feel the coldness of the abyss,

the pressure pushing against me,

Inch by inch,

I see the light thousands of feet above,

Slowly paddling to its rays,

Each level I feel my insides settle,

More in place of where they belong,

Feeling the water gradually warm,

But the ice cold feeling still runs to my heart,

Like icicles piercing my arteries,

Pushing to give me life,

All I can hope for is the sun to help beat down on me,

Warming up like a slow boil of water,

Until I see the surface,

All I feel is darkness,

Moving to the light.

I have fallen. Fallen to a point to a point where I ask, "God please reach out to me and pull me up." I still dwell in the hole of life which I created. Yet I am too stubborn to ask for help until I can't get out again. How much must I fall? How much must I keep learning before I can move forward? My life seems to be torn from end to end. The very people I love and reach out to can't feel me right now. My heart is broken. Heart is severed in pieces because of the opened acts of free will. How do we know what is best for us? Are we the ones who figure it out or just have enough sense to listen to God's will when things happen? How does life hurt so much but yet yield no understanding?

It brings out the sinful nature of our souls. It binds us and coils around us until the world sees the grace which we get from God. Grace that is undeserving but given to us freely by God. As he looks upon us he does not see the scarlet sin painted on our bodies but the light of His son's face peering at him from the cross.

Yet, I have fallen. Fallen to the worlds sin today and everyday. Some sin which I can control. Others are sin in which I have to break the cursed habit that drowns me in this world. Day by day I place a prayer for guidance and strength. I am a sinner for the world to cast their stones on. I bow marked by man with the chalice reigns of forgiveness. I raise up to realize I will never be a man of full completeness. I must search each day for the whisper of God. Sometimes I am too closed off to hear it or too anxious to deliver my own words of wisdom. There it is again placing His will last because I feel the bile coming out of my mouth is more important. When will I ever realize the complications of this world only hinder on the mere fact that I dwell on the negative? Instead, I should be looking to the light of the day as a gift from God. Each day I awake is a day he has blessed me with. I see nothing sometimes to my amusement. Nothing that capture my eye of His creation. Other days, I see the whole world pressed around me like a painting carefully marked up with stroke after stroke.

Mark of Man

I have tasted an apple,

Pulled from the tree,

Luscious and juicy

Delightfully peaceful

Calming my mind

Releasing my will

I have tasted

I feel fine

I have no carnage

I have no guilt

The fruit satisfied

And filled my body

With nutrients of the soul

I am clear in mind

Free to fly

But I have tasted the fruit

I

Have tasted

The mark of man

I am

Scarred by the desires of my will

Yet I am still free

Avatar

Avatar is brilliantly done with the new technology and the major advances in CGI. People tend to look at the magnificents of the technology and not the elegance of the story. Are we doing this to our own planet? Are we destroying love over earthly wants and needs? Is this world a place we see as God's creation or a world we see our own earthly desires?

These are all questions that came to mind as I watched. The story was pretty typical one with a twist of conquering a new world for money. People try to conquer the natives from within and take tactical maneuvers in order to capture everything they want. While the natives, Primitive people they called them, look at the nature around them and see the beauty and desires in everything God has created or in their god in the movie. However, the best line to convey this is "the world to the Avatar is all of one center, tree of souls, and it communicates to each other as one network. It drives their existence by living in the complete and natural circle of life." Our depends as people is to desire more even if we destroy that circle.

Isn't this funny? The people who find the simple things of nature and in life are content with how they love and live. They don't need contraptions or anything else to see the value of life. Yet, we have everything needed to distract us from seeing the true creation of God. We keep pushing forward for advancement and improvements when it is nothing more then the desires of sinful natures to improve things. Now, some things need improvements like education and medicine. However, the distractions of computers and television has caused an epidemic of distraction and less concentration on the world we need to know more about in order to save it.

People may think I am crazy. However, I am like all of you. I like having my computer to educate myself. I like having a few distractions in my life to get rid of anything bothering me. I want to see His creation of God before me as well. I don't waste my life seating in front of a television on days I know I can hike or do something with someone. Matter of fact, once a certain person is gone then I will be unplugging my television from the cable and turning off my internet at home because it is a distraction. If i could go back to the dark ages of just a home telephone and a bicycle to get me around town then I will. This may happen.

As you go out today look at the mountains and the weather and see the beauty and the balance God has created in order for us to be here. How are we suppose to move forward if first we don't appreciate what first was created in us? We desire Him and relationships and bonds with people. Now, we create bonds with contraptions and electronic devices that entertain the mind and get rid of the emotions we need to deal with. In some cases people run away more than ever because they see a movie or a show and they try to make their lives like a fantasy they have in their heads when all they need is a companion to show them anything can happen if you are willing to see God's will. God will give you the desires of your heart.

Avatar paints a distinct picture of the desires of sinful man and the righteousness of those who see His creation. We may not see this in our own lives but it is evident in the movie that we need to open our eyes and work with nature as oppose to just destroying its natural movement and state of being.

After saying all this, I ask myself what am I going to do to help stay with nature more? How am I going to help show God's will in my life? I will say this, I am human and can have many mistakes happen even while searching for God. It is how I reconcile and become the man I am by His grace that will show me what I need to become for His kingdom. I will make mistakes and I will make choices that may hurt people and hurt myself but it is the path in which I must see and strive after to make sure those people I hurt are those who I am forgiven by and I forgive those who hurt me. We are suppose to be is arms and His feet in everything we do and sometimes that takes us opening our arms to our worst enemies. We must be willing to be nailed to the cross just like Christ in order for people to see his unfailing love.

Now we must ask ourselves are we going to strive and when we fall be ready to stand back up in order to move forward? Are we going to run and face different challenges without him? The path of righteousness is hard and one that can only be done with God in your heart guiding you. Those who choose to do things without guidance will try to take paths of simplicity and think they are doing God's will. To those people we must be ready to have our arms open wide to them even if we don't agree with what they did or doing. We must guide them by being ourselves and loving on them. Loving on them could be just as much as a phone call or a handshake. We must show them God's love on them even if it is outside ourselves to do. I am ready and have my arms open. I am ready to go.

creatures of the house

Them little nail givers

Pulling at the carpet as they walk by

Cotton robbers

Pulling open my drawers

And stealing the softness inside

Starring at me with my lids shut

Wondering when they will open again

Crying out to me

As the door opens to their cave

Ruminace of food substance is depleted

The sirens call for replenishment

I satisfy their need

Oh Furry creatures of the house

Napa

Bright green painting of life

covering the hills around us

Saturated with grape plants

and mustard seeds

I have to reach out to see if it really is alive

looks like a backdrop for a movie

it is the handy work of nature

growing to what the Artist sees right

Stroking the clouds in the sky

tasting the fine drip of the wine

and opening our eyes to a beauty unknown

to an unbelieving eye

Parts

Raven sits

Upon the evil chest

of man once thought to never rest

Eyes pecked out

lips swollen with clout

He will be left, in bits, in bits

Fool we all are

The woebegone feeling scarred my lip

with markings of a fool

I'm desperate to see a carving of emotion

Like a figurine glowing in the candlelight

but the scowl of the owl pricks my eyes

to awaken me to the darkness of my mind

with eyes peering into the thoughts

blinking like a cartoon

robbing the essence of originality

and I am played again

as a fool

with nothing left to ponder

and a blank mind of worry

Imagine

I stare at the popcorn ceiling

drawing figures in my head

of a whole new world

It casts people of iron

and horses of courage

and lances faced east and west

King raises his hand

Drops the hanky

that starts the trot

of the beast

and mean who fight

with long tree trunk like objects in hand

They charge harder and cause commotion

and people picture the end

but I draw a collision in my head

both Iron men fall to the ground

and end up dead

As I stare at the ceiling

I draw more worlds in my head.

Break down the wall

I am riding the river of Life

Hitting each stone unturned

Scarred by the sand and sticks I hit

None too hard to hold me from the flow

As I travel through the cracks

Down the small falls of the unknown

and into a pond of stag-net water

I see the the stucture holding me back

I try to knock it down

Break down the walls of the dam

Lord

Let the water flow

I am tired of sitting here

in the Scum and Algae of the world

Break down the wall and let me flow

I am here for the rapids

no matter what cuts I may receive

I may be broken by the rocks

I will mend in the sea

Break down the walls of the world

Lord

Let the river flow

I am tired of sitting here today

Amongst broken and sore

Break down the wall and let me flow

Break down the walls and let us flow

Scarred Heart

A man with a heart

scarred by the knives of the world

each wound moles over

and mounds on the flesh

stapled shut to heal

permanently marked

Velvet Elvis

A work in progress . . .

Bell goes through concepts of "What if" that cause a stir in the community of Christianity. To the point that we need to examine how we see Jesus and the word of God. He points out the fact that religion is just that, something written in scripts and fables for us to follow. Which religion was created by man. Jesus himself said that religion is not all you need. You need me as well. (Need scripture for proof). Bell goes through the ideas of what if Jesus had a physical father on this planet. Would this skew our idea of who Jesus is? How would we see him different? Even though he fulfilled all the prophecies except the immaculate conception based on this concept of what if. we built religion around Jesus. When we should have based it on him. He made a clear path for us to follow and answered everything in life for us. However, what if he did have a father on this earth? Would your Faith be skewed? How would you view the world differently? How would you follow the bible different?

We just have to get off the concept of religion and get on the concept of it as a faith in following him. Most churches now see this concept and have changed from being legalistic to relational.

Bell also gets into concepts of how to study the bible and how we should cherish it. He brings in the history of Rabbi's how they cherish the word and study it dearly to gain concepts of how the word can be interpreted in different ways.

"The rabbis spoke if the text being like a gem with seventy faces, and each time you turn the the gem, the light refracts differently, giving you a reflection you haven't seen before." (Bell 90)

If a new rabbi had a new perception of scripture it would have to pass through tests by the elders in order for it to be approved for teaching. However, it brings us the bona fide idea that the bible is there for interpretation on how we should live our lives. It can mean different things to different people. On the other hand, once the person perceives it in a certain way he should get it checked out by fellow Christ followers, preferably by elders.

He makes you realize you need to think outside the box. How many times have you heard that before? People have a hard time looking at things in a different manor and different perspective. It builds the mind to realize things can be different and look different for other people. The idea of even writing this can come across to one person as elementary but the other as being a fine piece of work. Bell expresses we must lok at the bible in all different directions so we can get the most out of it.

Writing

Simplicity is an art form once defined

With a pen and paper

It came straight from the mind

It drew out letters

and words came around

and everyone understood it

what it meant was profound

It described objects and feelings

once it came out it made a wonderful sound

I foresee it

Indention on a well worn couch

46 inch tv mounted on the wall

webs covering it from lack of use

stacks of old ads and mail scattered

DVD player still flashing 12:00

remotes are dead from sitting

dust covering everything

even the footprints indented in the floor

dishes piled in the sink

high enough to overflow on the counters

cobwebs sit in every crease and corner of the ceiling

as the stench fills the hallway

door to every bed room open

Smell makes my stomach curl

as we approach the main room

arm hangs off the bed

slightly deteriorated

fingers gangling

from a lonely old man

other arm

reaching to the emptiness

on the other side of the bed

with a frown craved into his face

and lines on his face

drawn from the tear drops

salt from his eye to the sheets.

Crazy World

My skin curls

As the sweet venom flows

Through my limbs

Creating an artificial endorphine

Stimulating a rush of freedom

tingling the hair on my arms and head

Blood raging through my veins

Liberating the body

Raising it to a new level of peaceful chaos

The Mind develops a whole new world

Words float with expression

Accenting their true colors

Ceiling spins behind them

Like a optical allusion capturing everyones attention

Grin of solitude captured on my face

And signs of release

Living the moment

And dreaming forever

Celloist

The waves of sound

Flow through the air

Bringing a focus of pleasure

Hands raise to the wooden carving

Strings stretched over it

And the music hits

each note

His hands dance on the neck

to each fret

fingers curved

and placed so precisely

Playing the G G A D

cords

Making the sweet sounds

and memorizing looks

Painting of life

Your face stroked in

Peaches and cream color

on the canvas of life

The brush smoothly curves your face

small and pleasing to watching it be conveyed

As the artist moves to the details of your eyes

colors of sky blue slowly blends

to a ring of dark blue

on the edges of your Iris

Like a sky fading to darkness

Your smooth eyes

Gently touched-up with a fine bristle brush

creating every detail of happy wrinkles

Carefully placed on the foreground

Exposing your true color of life

Bright and magnetic

Drawing my eye to the precision of your smile

curving with laughter

electrifying your mood

All captured on a white surface

of imagination

Keyhole

Turnable circle of metal

Possess a hole

Jagged, cut and angled

Designed with precision

So metal of elongated fashion

carved and buffed out

Fits into the gentle mechanics

and turns

scrapping the guide to unlock

That hole only infused with one key

to make the lock work perfectly

Now the lock is broken

The Key needs to be thrown away

Exposed

I have seen the days of darkness fall

when my eyes do not roll back

Where slumber is scarce to find

and friends have a laugh

When joy is true inside

and alcohol always flows

How people really see each other

and open up their hearts at last.

What brings this freedom of friendship love

You must ask

The smile that is contagious

and laughs that last

Love that is shown

and people be themselves

And never let anything intervene

Let the conversation go . . .

I'm Alive

Bare

ripping my shirt from the top down

Jagged and scattered pattern

Unclothed

My blue jeans fall to the ground

Crumpled and Crease

Naked

Pull down my Hanes to the floor

Fall to my knees

The Messager

Dark coat

Leather black gloves

Top hat tip sideways

And smooth Go-tee

Black slacks and black shoes

Parked Cadillac Escalade

Carrying an orange envelope

name written in sharpie

Big and precise

Step through the grass

In his dress shoes

Black

Of course

Black socks exposed with each step

Finger glides to the doorbell

And alerts the occupants

Door opens

and the silhouette

stands on the porch

hands over the devils paperwork

And smoothly walks away

?

Lashes

reach to the sky

Eyes

blend in to a mild scattered cloudy day

Mouth

curved like a saucer held on edge

Skin

gentle like a perfect orange peel

Reaching with No Strings

Letters flow out
and dive into your inbox
One each month
with a Hello
Or holiday gesture

Replys run back
with agression
like a blanket being torn to shreds
Words pushing in daggers
Scarring my preception
Of the Woman in the red beanie
I once hugged
closing my arms in for comfort

Letter flows back
With words that drop down to their knees
Head looking up to the sky

Replys looking over the words
And reading what the eyes only want to see
Words sent back only to crimple me

Letters to let you know
I am still crawling
I can't stop reaching

Rain on face

Open your eyes to the sky
Let the rain splatter on your face
Water dripping over your checks
Down your neck
Soaking your clothes

Turning with your hands held out
A sign of recieving in the joy
Massaged in by the rain
Curvature of muscles work
To point the corners of your mouth up

The elementary child comes out to play
Stomping in the puddles
Splattering your friends
And running off

Basking in the fun of rain
And enjoying the adventures
Of a simple life

Who Are You

Blood bubbles and boils
With rage
Words used to dig
Are words used to break

How can your tool
of words hold conviction
be so bold
and yet benine

Experience is held in thoughts
and nothing in solid form
and you point the crooked finger
As if I am a bubbling idiot

You look into my fish tank
of a world
But you can't see
because your eyes are clouded

When you see clearly,
then let the wisdom flow
When you have lines of proof
then show me the path

Without these
Your words are benine
and have no affect on me
becoming who I am

Over!

Empty and exhausted,
From the closed doors,
And the minute hand ticking away.
Fist pounding,
Denting the wood grain,
And bruising my flesh.

I lay my shoulder into it,
Cracking the plain.
I pound and pound,
And then collapse.
My body is
Cut, cramping and convulsing.

Pain creeps,
throughout my veins,
And ensnares my heart.

Oh, I wish God had taken me away,
Laying frozen,
Trying to focus in,
On the florescent lights.

The rays are blurry,
yet piercing pupil.
Sucking in carpet fibers,
I lay delusional
With snot rolling
From my my nose,
My cheeks salted from the rain.

Orange Blossoms Gone for me

"Another orange groves gone today
How many more leave that way
The oranges that blessed this land
and gave this city fame"

Dirt, brush, deserted driveways,
Main grove house foundation
on the land that the sweet smell
Orange blossoms used to bloom.

The stumps and empty field
abandoned and rotten,
Water stopped flowing
through the rock concrete canal
used to cool summer night air

Money driven ideas
Never developed into anything
As the brown weeds
Take over the land
I fear the Groves will all be gone
and left is nothing but sand

Old is just a word

You may see the cracks and wrinkles in my eyes
but the world I live in never dies
as day seeps into the night
Another time for me to focus on my life
As each minute I get older
I am never too old for an adventure

Evidence of stress on the skin
but a child lives within
Each thought that comes to play
I see how to convey
An Adventure
An Adventure

I am never too old for an adventure!

My Playland

My shoe laces flap in each step
Kneel down to tie my shoe
Right over left
Down and through
Cracks in the gray walk
Give trails for the ants to travel
They go under a piece of green grass
Into this dark line
Look in
to try to see
The ant is gone
Under the leaf

"Come on son!"

Breaks my focus to the orange
And Reds in the trees
And scattered all over the ground
Like a finger painting
Oranges and reds
Mixed with greens and browns

Crackling and crinkling
Sounds while stepping towards my dad
I start to jump on them
Grin from cheek to cheek
Laughing like a music box
That never stops

A bazillion leaves all over the ground
Crunching and crackeling
I fall and roll all around
Giggling and giggling
Sound jumps up
More and more leaves come down
I get up
Look at my painting on the ground

"Come on son!"

Painter

Use the canvas of Life
Paint me in your light (too flowery?)
Brush me
Into the woven fabric
texture me with passionate strokes
Bring the picture to sight
Layer by layer

Angel of Mine

You had your superman beanie on
In your 5'2" frame
and laughter
from which we can't refrain
You smile at the camera
In pure soft smile
As I wrap my arms around you
Feeling the angel inside
beneath me
holding up my sinful body

Oh Mirrior, Mirrior

I can stare at you in the mirror
Trying to get complete answers
Captivated by the wrinkles and crows feet
Plastered in a blank look
Cracked in spratic ways
dark lined eyes of intensity
Thinking about the day

My fist in the mirrored face
seven years bad luck
But I see a new place
Broken several times
In which I embrace

Mirrior skewed my grin
To one of several pieces
And thinking of sin
A rush of passion
Running through my veins
feeling of rage
And release

Walls of Uncertainty

Eyes open to blaring beep of the alarm
And emptiness of the right side of the bed
Her impressions have risen
Over the months of her being gone
As if no one ever laid there before
I just want the warm feeling of love
To hold and to handle
I want the ringing of your voice in my ear
Conversations running deep into the night
And continue until the rise of the sun
Her smiles pictured in my head
Gleaming throughout the day

I feel lost without her precious smirk
Her blue sky eyes peering at me
Her zest for life
Yet the devils liquid ensnares her
She dances into the night
Living the life she feels she deserves

I lost the flower
She has my emotions
My blood boiling with passion
He has my heart
Cupped in His hand
Ready to be molded
And driven to His will

Once I let my emotions fall
I will be released of the pain
And free to hold on to Him

How do I let the flower fall from my hand
And learn to find another
I smell the essence of a rose
But do not know if I can handle the flavor
Of the scent in my veins

The scent bubbles my thirst
Drives my passion
I am not ready to harness any new flower
I will become a beast of lust
Rather than a gentle man of righteousness

Victim

A victim of this monstrous flesh

Tearing my heart from end to end

To vacation from this earthly land

Eternity to spend away

As for my skin

I wish to tear it off

To separate the bond of flesh from bone

I will not bear it anymore

Confusion of which this worlds stands

I can't take it in my hands

Take these worldy sores

Make them disappear forevermore

Take this inner core of mine

Take all that keeps me in a bind

Release the inner core within

So may I scrap off the earthly skin

And show the world who I truly am?

Bound by my sinful past

Some people thought I would never last

But I sit in my forgiven state

Wanting to pull this wordly skin off

And release all my hate

To be who I am inside

Take all this skin of mine

I may feel good at peace and fine

*Published in Muse for RCC but I need to clean up. I actually surprised they published it.

Cut My Strings

Arms frailing around with each pull
Bobblin my head with a twitch of the wrist
Floating above the walnut table
I can only control the words and images in my head
While the environment changes
Underneath me
Around me
But never though me

Control what you think
I will never break to your will
When these strings are cut
I will fall to my knees
You will be lost in confusion
I will gain the movement of my legs
To walk the path set before me
Free, calming and defined
You will fall away

Miracles Each Day

Opening my eyes each day is a miracle
The sun breaking through the starry path of night
Infecting us with Life *
Trees glisting with sunlight
Oranges, reds and yellows seeping through their branches
Created for us to breathe in the beauty of this new day
And Breathe out
As the North Star reveals a new path to darkness
I await through my slumber
To breathe in the birth of day
To see His miracle shine upon me again


* Green Mile by Stephen King