"to trot"

I really like the phrase "to trot." To me it's more than just some understanding of "okay, I'm moving a little." It's more like "okay, no more of this. This depravity or mundane. Let's get moving. I am looking up now and hopeful. Breaking not just out of a pit, but out of the shell of my inner hell. I mean, let's be real, I'm alive. Someone thought my life was a steal." Truly, I love "to trot."

-Just a thought... When I have time I'm probably gonna write a poem about what this phrase fully means to me... until then this will do to look at from time to time

Receiving at the Reception

I’ve wondered often what I would say to you when the time comes. I probably won’t even have phrases, sentences or words. You know, I’m probably just gonna lay there moaning, almost dead like cause I really don’t think I have it in me to connect to you in person.

Or maybe I won’t shut up at all. Maybe I’ll get on your nerves like I’ve done to people, at times. I don’t really know, so hopefully this argument is really inconclusive to what our banquet is gonna be like or anything we have together.

I don’t even think I’m gonna able to talk at my own wedding. I really don’t think I’ll have it in me. I think I’m just gonna shed tears in silence at the beauty standing there next to me saying our vows. And even that relationship, playing a beautiful tune, is only til death do us part.

So really what do I, a mere man really have to offer at your feet? What am I gonna say because of the freedom you graciously gave, I won’t even have any tears to portray. That portrayal will be gone cause I left it with the old body when I’m finally free. Cause that is the way I’ll been finally derailed to you and your beauty. Thrusted to your side, unlike the last time I’m not stabbing you to see if you’re dead. I’m that purified soul grabbing you, happy that in my faith and hopes get to find you alive and well.

I wish I could walk with you right now. I’m walking with you, but I MEAN WALKING WITH YOU!!! And yeah, sure I’m on a narrow path, but I want it to be you and me going everywhere like it’s supposed be before I made all this with my crookedness and disobedience. I wanna portray obedience and have you hold me boldly. Not you hold me boldly as I stand an ugly man. Can we… can we now… where is it?

I’ve been lookin forward to our uniting without fighting… I really am. I’ve bottling up everything in anticipation to actually see you lookin at me cause I wanna see you lookin at me and I wanna see clearly. Cause on earth I’m from dirt, stay with dirt, wanna part away from dirt.

You’ve washed more than just my feet to see you in the right seat. You’ve washed more than my feet to hear all of your feats for moments untold.

So, yeah I really don’t know what I’m gonna say. I’m not gonna cry. When I see you I wanna patray something though cause I’m don’t want to be one of those guys who just sits idly by. Not in front of my God. Not gonna carry on that. I’d rather just grab you, but I’m sure I won’t even be able to do that either  cause your presence is seemingly larger than me and at times I find myself in awe of your majesty.

So when I see your majesty I don’t know if I’ll be able to move. If at our uniting, or at the banquet I’ll be able to groove. I really don’t know.  I just want you to know that I hope there is something TO you that I can willingly, abundantly, lovingly show.

Well yeah, BIRD IS THE WORD

I don't know what time I really actually collapsed to towards my pillow, in the afternoon, but let me try to presume. My face hit that cushion, and my eyes folded back. I was out and laid unto the sack. My consciousness packed. My unconscious in tact. Let's go all "SLEEP ALONG" and just lay back.

It's a reallllll niiiiicce and allllll sweelllll. La la la la la la, I can hear birds chirping. Their beautiful songs are worth hearing past the noon daay sky. I'm presuming and performing a sense that when I'm usually tense the activities of ...these beautiful creatures flying by will move me and make me less tried. And when they aren't here I just look all like "DANG SANG RANGLE MANGLE!!! LET'S ALL JUST PUMP OUR FISTS AT THIS HERE AND GET FRIZZLED!!! MY EMOTIONS ARE ALL BAKED AND SIZZZLED!!!!" I wanted to hear you from the perch of the chimney sweep with your words pleasantly keeping.... peep.... peep... peep. My eyes are seeking what it is you will truly do next. I watch as you feed your young ones from your... nest and lay your... lost full of zest.

 I like to thank for the moments such as these. That come up every spring. Singing songs and ringing in the joy of life. The year seems something that's emotional in the changing of the seasons. The cold to hot temperatures rising moving us ...to love warmth and chilly perceptions. The extremes creating tension as we brave the element through tough climate. AND IT SOUNDS A LOT LIKE AN EMOTIONAL ROLLACOASTER... ROLLA ON DOWN TO DEPRESSION... CLASS IS IN SESSION. Sit down and overcome. There will be tough. rugged moments in my life in every season, but praise be your majesty. THe God who does no wrong. The God who does me no wrong. The one whom these beautiful birds sing their song of celebration that need not a drop of time for translation. The pivitul sensation. Believe me when they sing I too will sing along. I too will sing in on their beautiful songs.

SLOW DOWN LIVING

Slow time. Slow wants. Slow appreciation. Slow memories. Slow things cherished. Slow love. Slow portions. Slow hour glass. Everything fades with pleasure.

Slow down these easy little moments that I wanna call my home. That fades with every little pleasure. To make a story everything I’ve ever given or done has to be weathered and torn together to paint a picture and deliver a testimony.

And all the while I’m building up this life, gaining satisfaction, but little to no traction. It’s easy to live in simplicity than live in humility even I can’t slow down moments and time. I wish it would be simple to slow down time. But time is has no alliance with sinners.

I keep saying “I’ll just worry later. Later is the matter at hand. I have time to be a better man, a better lover, a better brother, a better someday father, a better boyfriend, a fiancé, a better husband, leader, minister, missionary, mentor.”

And one day I’ll be so fixed. I’ll be so correct. I’ll even be able to write a book about it, that is my turn around. I’ll write about my story cause people will perceive it to be interesting to see how explicitly I became me. How I became the man with the plan to be. The fruit bearer. The initiative taker. The abundant care giver. The one who’s life makes up the most interesting man in the world.

Yes, the most interesting man in the world cause throughout my life I keep making a set of goals to manage the holes left by the purpose given reality. Cause for this dreamer life was too plump and beautiful not to buy. The apple stuck like a twig in the blind man’s eye.

So slow time. Slow purpose. Slow the picture, cause I’m too busy living something bigger. I’m traveler. I’m explorer. I’m adventurer. I’m sight seeker. I’m old. I’m remembering. I’m envying the old me. I’m left with nothing. I’m left with memories and things. I can’t take any to the grave. I’m dead.

What is the horoscope that these eyes are looking unto? What was the lie this heart was sold into? When did simple living become so bold that I allowed myself to die tangled by sins foothold? Am I deranged or is it too late to change? Is there just something, some type of currency I could lay at your feet? Even if I deplete all of me, it wouldn’t be worthy enough to place in front of your Almighty seat.

I feel so dead before thee… could you send someone to mediate for me. I’m lost struggling. A lot of mistakes I’ve made in this past. I thought the building up would last. I just made my own grave to rest. Could you place a forgiving touch on this chest? Could you forgive all of the wrong that’s laying waste from beyond my own flesh? Could you help ME?

SELF INCLINATIONS

I like to believe in just what is. There are plenty of good things in this world. I like a lot of those things. I have a loving family. Good friends. Going to probably get married to an amazing wife. But what's purpose. I've struggled with loneliness, lust, accountability at times. And I know all of these three thingss "family, friends, spouse." I've listed have purpose, but I think for spiritual leaders we put too much weight on such things. I think we don't look to our own baptism as THE turning point, but rather a stepping stone. When does life change really accur? Is it a wife that keeps a grown man from pornography? Is it good friends that keep us going? Then why do married men continue to look at pornogrpahy and why do people still say they are lonely when they have active lifestyles in the midst of a financially sound job and a huge bank statement? One's with a loving family who continually live for them? Bro's for their bro's? When did we put so much weight on worldly cures? When did they become so important they should be guaranteed? When did we become so fearful of not having them, then we are of not having GOd? When did we start to put so much faith that God will provide these things, rather than God just simply providing God? If tomorrow, or even the next year if all GOd did was walk with you and you had nothing else do you think you could deal with that? Do you think you would still give in just as you've been doing or that you'd be strengthened just by His presence? What if it meant leaving a family, holding off on a marriage, and leaving the friends you "ride" for? I think for the spiritual leaders of tomorrow there needs to be more of JUST GOD and less of anything else when it comes to the storms of life. Let the WORD be the soundest thing we have and let the wilderness, and fasting have it's place once again. An isolated existance can be bad. But the solatary with the only intimate relational constant, that being God, is not. When has it ever been okay to say we will continue to struggle and stumble until God gives us more worldly things. Or that God allows us to thrive "BETTER" under such conditions. Why is this the norm? Why are we taught to value such things to be cures for our remedie of the mundaine? Why can't God be God, and that be good enough? Do such views go against the value of the cross? Was not death beaten? Redemption and atonement is enough. There is the ONLY HOPE that really matters. There is the TRUE YOKE.

YEP YEP... I've been there

Up in the land of make believe there's a kid named Eve who's got a disease. She laid barren with of these arrends that are running her thought process dry. She's needs to be drenched in the rie of something new. A new shade from this blackish blue. A new shoe to fit into.

Someone give this woman a SHOVE!!! Push her to squash her bugs and we will have bug soup tonight. Taste it! The paint paste taste delicately is alright. Let's not fight about it. Woman, let's just do it. Change your stars and your life. Your tired of staying here right?

Well in order to change a life you gotta take in dat bug juice. It's not gonna be easy to take it in. But see the bad things therein. You break free in order to find joy. For the ploy you gotta lose, give in.

Get lost old ways. Get lost old days. Ladies not stuffing her face of old days. The bug juice remedy. Stuff it down now. Empty the cup. The remaching, match making stuff. The strutted thing that we all snagged a piece of. We can all grow to love. We can all grow to love this remedy.

Taste it and you'll see. Try some. Try some. I dare you. Are you chicken? Just try a bit. I'll make a believer out of you yet? I'll make you believe. Throw the guts on the wall. Make a splash, it's only something really small. Throw it on the wall. You'll still know the real you after all.

I'm trying I'm tryin

So I've been practicing my stuff and I think I'm starting to figure out how to present it. The way I was doing it was just too shaky and made a lot of nerves and stuff. Pushing for too much emotion. But it's a poem. So yeah, I think I'm starting to figure out how I'm supposed to do this.

The Dooo Date 1/8/2011

I’m not thoroughly equipped. I’m not thoroughly equipped to deal with this. I’m not old enough. I’m not bold enough. I’m certainly not eligible enough.

I got no supporting cast. The days where I felt comfort have long since past.  My own betrayal stabbed everything and killed all that I thought would last. Am I accountable? Am I held up to this? Is this your last wish before you call your servant home?

Just wondering. I’ve been thinking about what it is I’m here for what it is you got in store for this page, in this chapter, of this tale… that isn’t tall at all. My existence is pretty minute and small. Did I mention that I’m not capable? That I’m the "Cain" to your plans. I’m robbing from a man. Someone with real plans. Someone who is more "Able" than I truly am.

I hear whispers from people’s prayers and how they pray for their own stories delivery. The clever disguise as they look at my politely with their eyes. I think people’s expectations and standards for people are purely corruptive and political.

Who doesn’t envy the man with many talents? God’s a jealous God, but underneath everyone’s façade is a fixated, frustrated thin shell. They don’t know idolatry can cut loose utter hell. And people with big talents are purely exposed by others for political gain.

 And everyone else wants to be for them and under them. If you are neither, well you’re nothing. Get with societies plans and on their page. People of today and tomorrow. Planners set the stage. So kiss up. This is all too political.

And I’m not trying to bash. I’m not trying to be too rash and be hardened to being petty. I’m petty enough on my own. I asure you that I too deal with all of life’s idolatrous groans. So please, let me be the first to drop my stone and leave this conscious effort alone.

After all who am I? I’m not eager enough to walk out the door, but boy, like everyone else I can implore. Let me drop some coins in the wishing well of everything. Everything vanishing with me feeling caged. I think its funny how coins rust with age. Let me share with you some memories. I have lots of em.

Let me write a book. Nothing too big or too amazing. I’m just star gazing. I can’t reach that far or become one. Do you notice me yet? Do you get that I might have something left?

I’m not seeing it. I think it takes a lot of faith to believe. If you can’t get up and move, age will walk all over you. Show me purpose. Something ever grander then the splendor in my eyes that I’ve been led to chastise. Show me real purpose that can sparkle.

No more trying to gage my worth, my talent, my power, my presence. No more trying to gage anything. Cause if I just live today it’ll be enough. Cause with my near sighted clarity, clouded up with all sorts of idolatrous stuff... that’s all I’m seeing.

So yeah, just today. Just these fond memories. Just this restless delivery. Not anything of mine, but everything, everything of yours. Can I rely, God, on just that? If I could be "purely" political, and be sold on no more sellouts and dropouts, no more big leagues. No more tall tales. If I could just cast them away I think, I think I would be set on believing in the you by what you do. Living truly and wholly because it’s what you wanted. God, I got to be for living you. When I do, I will be pleasantly surprised by how you manage, with little ole me, in how you pull through.

So may these eyes not look to the other man’s stories. So may this mind stop its unsound imploring. May my heart with joy start soaring. May my love start pouring. Start living. Start giving. Start being what being is really truly utterly about.

A Thought On The Spot

my love is not even my own to choose to give, but it's in this pouring that I live, latching on to something bigger than myself. To remain in my Father's love, that I must obey the commands to give love to my neighbor.

Joy is only complete when remained in the Father. It isn't given by a spouse, a friend, a mentor, or family, alcohol, drugs, roller coasters, a double rainbow, a real life Transformer, being able to fly,and/ sex. It's given by God. Happines...s, like everything else in this worlds is fleeting. Like a light bulb, it burns out. It's a single moment that can't define who you really are. Joy is something bigger. It's unfading and unchanging, upon it's creation by the Father. Joy is also freely given. You just have to meet your end of the command. It's the ultimate oppertunity. It's the thrill and chil. The ultimate bargain for the wise and not the simple. The living and not the dead. The giving and the seeking. It's not just passionate, but it's compassionate. It's sacrificial living and loving with sincerity. The substantial plea, and the clarity people try to do anything for. It's the blessing given to the giving. It's the resounding of the saving grace for those who use their lives to deliver the good news. Happiness isn't a transitional package in an unnatural world. We lost that. Don't fight for what's not here, but left at our own despense. Not in suffering. Not right now. Joy is the real identity, unbroken reality because of a sacrifice, once dead and now alive. The chains are gone. So grab unto the Father and hold on. Hold on loved ones. Hold restless. The chains are gone. The pain will soon subside. Don't grad what you can. Make yourself known to the plans. Take the stand. Hold on. The time is near. Don't fear the unfulfillment. Your joy will be complete. Just please. Drop the waste at your feet and hold on.