something real.

I am not in a highly emotional state, in fact, though I am weakened and feeble, I must and will contemplate-

I'm not sure I've ever felt a love in this exact sense. There have been the few times where I've been close to leaving this life for good, and I felt him near to me as never before. He held me, and told me to take heart, because he had overcome the world. And now I feel him again-this man who all my life had watched me grow, and waited patiently for the day that I would open my eyes and see him there, and open my heart to him. It's been hard most of the time. I'll never understand why, but for some reason I've always preferred another man-even though I could feel him with me still- watching me longingly from a distance somewhere. Even when I moved with the other in the dark, where there was no light to be found and I was sleeping with the lie, I could hear him in my head-saying come, come take what I have to give-you don't have to offer me your body-I will love you for free, and I'll never leave you. All these other men promise the same, but they all go. They take you and leave you there alone. They touch your skin with a seduction despair. But I never have forced my love on you, because, see, my love doesn't do that. I cared so intimately and deeply for you that I could not bare to have you without your consent. I'd give anything to have you seek me. I'd even do this-when my son was born to me, I made it my will to crush him. It is the hardest thing one could ever do-to turn your face on your own child-but see Diana, that is how much I would give to have you near me. I grieve each day you run away. My heart burns and aches unending as I witness how you give yourself to these things...these books with ideas that leave you empty, these men that leave you broken, these knifes that leave you bruised...all of these things you hide behind. But why? What are you afraid of? That you will find the light I have hidden inside you? I want to be your Abba, I want to protect you like a Father. I am here, I am here always. I have written for you that when my son died, he saw his offspring-that's you. As he hung there, and as he felt every hopeless and degraded woe you have ever imagined-he saw your face, your tears and your cries-and he did it for you.

I hear this man-this beautiful man who's never, ever hit me, or stolen things from me, or left me alone-this beautiful man...saying these things, to me. The best musician I could ever desire. The most vivid creator. The brightest intellectual. The greatest mind one could ever, or ever not, imagine. This beautiful person wants to have me fall in love with Him. I don't know if I could do it...I'm so used to my habits and my sodden distractions here, who knows what could happen if I lifted my eyes and gave it all to Him? It's terrifying...but truly, something deep down is struggling to reach the surface. This vulnerability, this disappointed and disenchanted soul, something saves me. Something reaches down where I cannot breathe and gives me life.

I will lift my eyes up.
I will trust it.

"For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed,
but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,
and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,' says the LORD.
'Oh afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted,
behold, I will set your stones in antimony,
and lay your foundations with sapphires...
In righteousness you shall be established;
you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear,
and from terror, for it shall not come near you."
Isaiah 54:10-11, 14

a thought on suicide-

"How can one fail to feel the basic relationship of these minds! How can one fail to see that they take their stand around a privileged and bitter moment in which hope has no further place? I want everything to be explained to me or nothing.

And the reason is impotent when it hears this cry from the heart. The mind aroused by this insistence seeks and finds nothing but contradictions and nonsense. What I fail to understand is nonsense. The world is peopled with such irrationals. The world itself, who's single meaning I do not understand, is but a vast irrational.

If one could only say just once: 'This is clear,' all would be saved. But these men vie with one another in proclaiming that nothing is clear, all is chaos, that all man has is his lucidity and his definite knowledge of the walls surrounding him.

All these experiences agree and confirm one another. The mind, when it reaches its limits, must make a judgement and choose its conclusions. This is where suicide, and the reply, stand."

-Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

After the know, September, 2009.

see this flaming torch it burns me so
see this ashen ember grow
when this fever child is running sham-ed
eyes are bleeding red

see this rotten log crumble above me
see my palms up to the sky
Eastern winds are blowing violent
when the oceans are all dry

Oh daughters hide your faces softly
mothers shield your sons
when red skies burn and fevers blossom
will we make it past the end-

see these bruises pushing on my eyes
see my spirit broken fade
children's wails and empty caskets
leave you wanting where he laid

Oh daughters hide your faces softly
mothers shield your sons
when red skies burn and fevers blossom
will we make it past the end?????????????????????????????????????????????????????

I'LL MAKE MY OWN DEVICES

"THE ANGER THAT CAUSES THE SHAKE AND THE CRY IS FOR NOTHING BUT THIS:

I DON'T NEED YOU OR YOUR SELFISH SODDING SATURATION
SATURATION OF THE CULT SATURATION OF InEXPERIENCE
Saturations of WHAT!
(this anger, i know, will lead to the phlegmatic destruction, but)
EMPTY NOTHINGS SIT STAGNANT BETWEEN YOUR EARS
GET ME OUT OF HERE BEFORE SOMETHING FALLS
BECAUSE IT CAN ONLY BE YOU OR I
WE CANNOT COEXIST MUCH LONGER, OR I WILL FORSAKE IT ALL

i will make my own devices because everything that this stage is offering me is
ALL FOR NAUGHT
there are the ones, the few, that would have me sane
and the Real? Well he's far away-
And since I cannot find it, well, I'll just
MAKE MY OWN DEVICES
FOR WHAT ELSE CAN I DO,
WHEN I AM THE ONLY ONE I CAN TRUST?
HOW CAN I TRUST HIM TO CATCH ME?
(and don't spit your remedy here, babe)-"


"So we all
Are growing old
And it's getting old

Pressure on
Our hollow bones
And the (varicose)?

Suddenly
We decompose
But we're not alone

So we all
Are growing old
MAYBE WE'RE SEALED IN SILENCE
And maybe we feel a guidance
Maybe your own devices
Will keep you afraid and cold
But I

Memorized
Your smile lines
From left to right

(Candlelight)?
And childlike
Reaction time

We're allowed
To expire

So we all
Are growing old
PULL OUT THE FEAR of silence
And put out the need for guidance
And put out your own devices
And don't be afraid of the cold

And we sing, sing, sing.
Fight, we fight, fight.
We cry, cry, cry.
We slide, slide, we slide into the light?

Pull out the fear of silence
Put out the need for guidance
Put out your own devices
And don't be afraid of the cold
Afraid of the cold
Afraid of the time
You've got no where to go but here.""

"But oh Savannah,"
BUT GOD-

how do i get back to where i was (when you were smiling)

(don't just sit there and shake your head, just close your eyes.
it's all you can do, isn't it?)

Patron Saint, are we all lost like you?

Take what you will, what you will
And leave. Could you kill, could you kill me
If the world was on fire
and nothing was left but hope or desire
And take all that I could require, is this love?
Or am I on the floor over-desperate?
Hold hands streaming of blood again?
And then take full weight of me
Guard my dreams, figure this out,
It's me on my own. Helpless, hurting, hell.
Will you stay strong as you promised?
Cause I'm stranded and bare.
Meanness is washed up and all that I have
is God. Take this and all,
Then grace takes me to a place
Of the father you never had
Ripping and breaking and tearing apart
This is not heaven
This is my hell.