Having the windows on my computer screen organized
New words-- storm-broken
Christmas music, but not Christmas presents
Christmas cards and secrets
subtlety and story
thusly...
highlighter eraser
there in the dark
I'll ride you like an ark
the port is in sight
thinking in French,
but only for grammar or maths
snow!
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
Monday, 5 December 2011
pearls of tears
The stories are sad,
nearly all of them,
they string my tears together
like a rope of pearls.
nearly all of them,
they string my tears together
like a rope of pearls.
Labels:
poetry
Sunday, 4 December 2011
stringing Irish pearls II
As I work on various final projects it helps to keep a stream of distractions going...
so back to Emmanuel
and on to Anne Enright
crumplecrumplecrumple
cat on the bed on the papers
hold her ear
speechifying
I need to drink more water
being a Christian is not individual--
it's being Christ
here, have your own paper...purr
snow is coming!
snow is coming!
I'm so excited!
I'm not a historian -
I'm a storyteller.
a tired storyteller
so back to Emmanuel
and on to Anne Enright
crumplecrumplecrumple
cat on the bed on the papers
hold her ear
speechifying
I need to drink more water
being a Christian is not individual--
it's being Christ
here, have your own paper...purr
snow is coming!
snow is coming!
I'm so excited!
I'm not a historian -
I'm a storyteller.
a tired storyteller
Saturday, 3 December 2011
stringing Irish pearls
Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice!
grey skies
exile/redemption
Maria--like pariah
age of Enlightenment
lunar society
mmmm melon!
tea and cookies
expense reports and accountability
Jonah and the whale and cultural identity
too in depth!
way too in depth...
I <3 google maps
rearranging room
seeing the moon
Christmas music
streams of mercy
never ceasing
call for loudest songs of praise
straight not strait
punctuation . . .
registration . . .
tune my heart to sing Thy praise
on Christmas Day?
Enniskillen sound gallery!
Partition and the Pogues
Remembrance Day Bomb
place specific
longing
deathstar?
Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice
Emmanuel has come
to ransom captive Israel
save
itchy ear! itchy ear!
gray text?! what?
tears
night one--done
grey skies
exile/redemption
Maria--like pariah
age of Enlightenment
lunar society
mmmm melon!
tea and cookies
expense reports and accountability
Jonah and the whale and cultural identity
too in depth!
way too in depth...
I <3 google maps
rearranging room
seeing the moon
Christmas music
streams of mercy
never ceasing
call for loudest songs of praise
straight not strait
punctuation . . .
registration . . .
tune my heart to sing Thy praise
on Christmas Day?
Enniskillen sound gallery!
Partition and the Pogues
Remembrance Day Bomb
place specific
longing
deathstar?
Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice
Emmanuel has come
to ransom captive Israel
save
itchy ear! itchy ear!
gray text?! what?
tears
night one--done
Friday, 2 December 2011
Monday, 21 November 2011
Sunday, 13 November 2011
When You Are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
~W.B. Yeats
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
~W.B. Yeats
Labels:
poetry
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Like an owl among the ruins
Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl among the ruins.
Myself a sanctuary
that Your presence redeems.
Hope's feather flutters
softly inside my chest
Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl among the ruins
and begun the lifelong work
of my sanctification
Your Word
magnified
upon my skin
Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl in its glory.
Myself a sanctuary
that You have made.
has settled inside me
like an owl among the ruins.
Myself a sanctuary
that Your presence redeems.
Hope's feather flutters
softly inside my chest
Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl among the ruins
and begun the lifelong work
of my sanctification
Your Word
magnified
upon my skin
Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl in its glory.
Myself a sanctuary
that You have made.
At Blackwater Pond
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters
have settled after a night of rain. I dip
my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls
cold into my body, waking
the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?
~Mary Oliver
have settled after a night of rain. I dip
my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls
cold into my body, waking
the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?
~Mary Oliver
Labels:
poetry
Monday, 31 October 2011
Big and small
There is so much in my heart now, big and small aches, hopes, desires. I am lonely in places my friends cannot fill, I rarely feel it, but today, I do. I am demanding; I am trying to choose otherwise, but sometimes I get too tired.
Monday, 17 October 2011
I am not always right, but
But sometimes, I don't think that matters as much as me trying to understand. It hurts when our conclusions are wrong, when we are wrong and when people see that. I get defensive, I hold strongly to my positions, because they are mine. That is something that I need to give up.
I may come to some wrong conclusions, but as long as I don't set them in stone, as long as they aren't the bedrock of my faith, there is grace. The bedrock of our faith must remain God -Father, Son, Spirit- but I have to think through things, pour water and see if they hold, build on them and see if they wobble, be willing to change my ideas. I have been wrong. I have been wrong often, and I've changed my mind and my story so many times I've lost count. But, as I've come to know Christ he shows me where I am tilting, where there is water leaking through, where I've tried to pour new wine into old wine skins. I am not a theologian, I do not have the answers. All I can do is try to understand, with my limited knowledge, in partnership with the Holy Spirit that is in me -and does know all things. We get glimpses, all of us, of God: his nature, his love for us, his joy in us, and his sadness and disappointment. What we do with those glimpses, well, that is another story.
I may come to some wrong conclusions, but as long as I don't set them in stone, as long as they aren't the bedrock of my faith, there is grace. The bedrock of our faith must remain God -Father, Son, Spirit- but I have to think through things, pour water and see if they hold, build on them and see if they wobble, be willing to change my ideas. I have been wrong. I have been wrong often, and I've changed my mind and my story so many times I've lost count. But, as I've come to know Christ he shows me where I am tilting, where there is water leaking through, where I've tried to pour new wine into old wine skins. I am not a theologian, I do not have the answers. All I can do is try to understand, with my limited knowledge, in partnership with the Holy Spirit that is in me -and does know all things. We get glimpses, all of us, of God: his nature, his love for us, his joy in us, and his sadness and disappointment. What we do with those glimpses, well, that is another story.
Labels:
faith
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
blushing flowers
Every time the season changes it hits me again, this deep roiling rumbling in my heart and spirit. I always think I need to plan my alone time as well as my community
time. Especially in the changing seasons time. And then Mari comes down
and plays the piano while I am reading and writing and it is just honey
to my spirit.People always say you learn the most from trouble and suffering and pain. And I think that might be true. We also learn the most from loving and being loved. Being vulnerable is never easy work to do, never easy to be always open, to not fear that others will hurt you, to not try to protect yourself. The thing is, protecting yourself is exhausting. When you stop trying, when you let God do it you have so much more brain space, so much more energy, so much more love.
Labels:
faith
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Reunion!
So my roommates are all home. Delightful! And hard. I don't know why this is always so hard for me, why we always feel the need to resettle our dominant roles. I will just think of it as an exercise in submission. I will take the non dominant role. I will stop trying to push my way first. And just rejoice in our reunion! Community is not an easy walk, but it is joyful!
Friday, 26 August 2011
Logic
How important is it to be logical? Yes, when planning an essay or solving an equation it's useful, but in our relationships to God and to others, where is the place of logic? I do not seem to place a high priority on it. It rarely influences my emotions, and only sometimes my decisions. I take my intuition seriously. Perhaps too much so?
I don't intend to disregard my emotions or intuition in order to be more logical. But is there a way to integrate it and to be more careful in my thoughts and speech so as to be aware of where I am making leaps of imagination?
I don't intend to disregard my emotions or intuition in order to be more logical. But is there a way to integrate it and to be more careful in my thoughts and speech so as to be aware of where I am making leaps of imagination?
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
new blogs
my sister and I created our own blog, to write to each other, and then I thought it was such a cool idea I created one for my roommates too! Lots of writing.
Saturday, 20 August 2011
awake
I am awake. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just hungry. Maybe I should be praying. Maybe I should eat, and then pray, but what am I praying for? For a friend who wants to love I guess. To love the lord God with all his heart, mind, soul, power. For wisdom.
cyn·i·cism (sn-szm)n.1. An attitude of scornful or jaded negativity, especially a general distrust of the integrity or professed motives of others:
'The root of all sin is the suspicion that God is not good.'
~Oswald Chambers
Cynicism does not bring us any closer to God; if we are to love and have faith we must have childlike hearts. Cynics do not have childlike hearts. We have hard hearts, and hard heads, and we like it that way. That is not godly. It does not protect your heart or your head. It does not save you anguish or fear or anxiety. It gives Satan a foothold. I'm not talking about doubt, I am talking about persistent desire to disbelieve. An unwillingness to believe anything without proof.
Mark 9:23-24
And Jesus said to him, “ ‘If You can?’ All things are possible to him who believes.” Immediately the boy’s father cried out and said, “I do believe; help my unbelief.”
Sunday, 14 August 2011
counting pearls
I count pearls and prepare to bake buns.
I am a most excellent baker woman
“These eggs just jump up and slap you in the face.” F.J.
What set off the sea change?
Time for sleep
Just start writing
mama, I'm drinking ginger pu'erh tea
Are we corn people?
out of service area interruption
Oh Captain Jack...
writing, supposed to be writing
Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister
yes, I have a Buffy bookmark in my Bible
Bam! That was an I'm an excellent writer woman bam...i want more tea
what's happening? what's going on? i need to know.
dripping tea on my white skirt
flying queen moths, Moth-Ra!
wait- flying queen ant
ants open peonies, without them, you'd never get a bloom.
if i just leave facebook open I'll probably check it less frequently...
go back to the beginning, work the land and walk around naked without shame
I kind of want to be Amish
I love punctuation
back up
back up
back up
excited!
writing writing writing
I have a duty to farm.
I would really like some tea now.
I'm supposed to be done now.
I'm on the home stretch
!
my mind is fried
can I do it?
75 more words...
I am a most excellent baker woman
“These eggs just jump up and slap you in the face.” F.J.
What set off the sea change?
Time for sleep
Just start writing
mama, I'm drinking ginger pu'erh tea
Are we corn people?
out of service area interruption
Oh Captain Jack...
writing, supposed to be writing
Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister
yes, I have a Buffy bookmark in my Bible
Bam! That was an I'm an excellent writer woman bam...i want more tea
what's happening? what's going on? i need to know.
dripping tea on my white skirt
flying queen moths, Moth-Ra!
wait- flying queen ant
ants open peonies, without them, you'd never get a bloom.
if i just leave facebook open I'll probably check it less frequently...
go back to the beginning, work the land and walk around naked without shame
I kind of want to be Amish
I love punctuation
back up
back up
back up
excited!
writing writing writing
I have a duty to farm.
I would really like some tea now.
I'm supposed to be done now.
I'm on the home stretch
!
my mind is fried
can I do it?
75 more words...
Saturday, 6 August 2011
doubt
"Those who believe that they believe in God, but without passion in their hearts, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, without an element of despair even in their consolation, believe only in the God idea, not God Himself."
~Miguel de Unamuno
Thursday, 4 August 2011
artful compostion of magnetic poetry 3
devour her warm & moist eye
fat & joy ful
delicious
blush explore
dirt
squirm
blaze
soft laugh
universe home stream
caramel
champagne steam
linger breath
melon bellow morning
animal know flower
ocean eternity of
throb
smoke
deep red
celebrate ferocious sex
(co-written with Anahid Adjemian and Malek Yalaoui)
artful compostion of magnetic poetry 2
ghost cat growl s
trust less
hard heart ed
listen girl child
question
wake
like
desire
soft
steel
woman
look at dark glass
as if translucent
free
Unfilled Prescription
Difficulty is
hard.
Unbucked up, walk-
ing as if
moving, boots-
traps tucked.
Birds chin up,
drill.
Love
cupped
around a glint.
~Susan Holbrook
from Joy Is So Exhausting
hard.
Unbucked up, walk-
ing as if
moving, boots-
traps tucked.
Birds chin up,
drill.
Love
cupped
around a glint.
~Susan Holbrook
from Joy Is So Exhausting
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
Measures
Using the right weight or measure is so important, is so vital that it permeates the old and the new testament. How we measure situations, how we measure others reflects on us. Fear and safety should not be our measure. Love should be our measure. Wisdom is a part of this, but wisdom is not love. To love sacrificially is not always wise. You will be hurt. You will hurt others. To love is to be vulnerable.
Some verses I have been reflecting on.
1 Corinthians 13:1-3
1 If I speak in the tongues[a] of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames,[b] but have not love, I gain nothing.Exodus 16:17-19
17 The Israelites did as they were told; some gathered much, some little. 18 And when they measured it by the omer, he who gathered much did not have too much, and he who gathered little did not have too little. Each one gathered as much as he needed.
19 Then Moses said to them, “No one is to keep any of it until morning.”
Deuteronomy 25:13-15
13 Do not have two differing weights in your bag—one heavy, one light. 14 Do not have two differing measures in your house—one large, one small. 15 You must have accurate and honest weights and measures, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.
Proverbs 20:9-11
9 Who can say, “I have kept my heart pure;
I am clean and without sin”?
I am clean and without sin”?
10 Differing weights and differing measures—
the LORD detests them both.
the LORD detests them both.
11 Even a child is known by his actions,
by whether his conduct is pure and right.
by whether his conduct is pure and right.
Mark 4:23-25
23 If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear.” 24 “Consider carefully what you hear,” he continued. “With the measure you use, it will be measured to you—and even more. 25 Whoever has will be given more; whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him.”
Luke 6:37-38
37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. 38 Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
Ephesians 3:18-20
18 may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,
20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
lost
No comfort from words. No comfort from monks. Not moms or hooch, no comfort. Dolor forms sorrow, prolongs lost fog. Womb forsook, bosom shook. Blood. No hold on tomorrow. Oh God, how? How to comfort, how to show sorrow, pool sorrow? No words of comfort. Don’t! Tomb soon. How long? Tomorrow. Croon songs of sorrow. Howl.
Monday, 11 July 2011
The awful grace of God
In our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom though the awful grace of God.
~Aeshylys
~Aeshylys
Petrichor
I’m in the desert
The camel is dead.
I killed her.
I’ve hidden in her bones;
The wind is rising.
I’m trapped in her bones.
Is there enough flesh
Left to save mine?
The storm comes.
I can smell water
The moon rises;
Her love fills my bones,
And I flow like water
Out to sea.
Thursday, 30 June 2011
artful compostion of magnetic poetry
open this belly
with corduroy kisses
& deep red porcelain
poetry smiles
green wild magic pierces cloud
desire bellows
delicious woman
with corduroy kisses
& deep red porcelain
poetry smiles
green wild magic pierces cloud
desire bellows
delicious woman
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
reality
Reality is like radium, and can be borne only in very small quantities.
~Madeleine L'Engle
If my heart were words on paper
The poem from which I take my name,
If my heart were words on paper
would you read them?
Would you keep them?
A mystery-sunlight through trees
off shallow shoals of
sandbars sparkling
Moonlit eyes on a summers day
silver sounds of leaves in wind
Witch blood I fight in vain
Tears to fill a desert
Prophet - priestess
Lightning running through me
The weather on my skin
Snow falling...
Calming-
the restless love.
Tea leaves floating
my fortune
in your cup
Would you read them?
Would you keep them?
Drink me dry - break me
Stone by stone
wall by wall
Until I stand
whole - before you.
Slow honey sun
silver moon trout
hidden in lies
catch them ! catch them !
If my heart were words
on paper would you?
Read me.
If my heart were words on paper
would you read them?
Would you keep them?
A mystery-sunlight through trees
off shallow shoals of
sandbars sparkling
Moonlit eyes on a summers day
silver sounds of leaves in wind
Witch blood I fight in vain
Tears to fill a desert
Prophet - priestess
Lightning running through me
The weather on my skin
Snow falling...
Calming-
the restless love.
Tea leaves floating
my fortune
in your cup
Would you read them?
Would you keep them?
Drink me dry - break me
Stone by stone
wall by wall
Until I stand
whole - before you.
Slow honey sun
silver moon trout
hidden in lies
catch them ! catch them !
If my heart were words
on paper would you?
Read me.
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