It's Halloween. How did that happen all of a sudden. Weren't we just experiencing lovely summer weather a couple weeks ago? Now we're socked in with clouds that can't seem to stop dripping (although we really can't complain in comparison to the mess in the East! Blessings on those poor folks...)
For some reason I have a poem I wrote in college stuck in my head. Okay, the reason is pretty obvious, seeing as you it was all about Halloween. I was in this creative writing class, where most of the students seemed to think that their writing was so far beyond the understanding of mere mortals that any interpretation or critique was clearly nothing but foolishness.
No doubt, it was arrogance that provoked me to write a poem in a standard rhyming format, littered with innuendo regarding the world of masks we live in, and how only on this classically darkest of days can my real self be revealed. I wanted them to sweat through interpretations:
It's Halloween, Oh Halloween,
A night by ghouls and goblins seen,
Oh what a dream, a perfect dream,
To dance with death on Halloween.
It's getting dark, I see a spark,
I wonder, could it be a lark,
Or could it be, a breath so free,
That only darkness lets me see.
A mask comes out, a scream a shout,
Now freedom, true, can come about,
etc, etc.
I can't remember the whole thing verbatim, but you get the gist. Seems to me, my classmates weren't quite so savvy.
Anyhow, I'm dressed in black today, in silent witness to the bygone era of trick or treating in the past. I left my eyeliner stitch marks by the wayside this year, figuring they wouldn't fly so well for postal customers :) All the same, I'm full of memories of years gone by. Mark and I did get a little pumpkin to carve and stick outside our door, although it'll be after 7 by the time I'm home, so we're not likely to have any trick or treaters this time around, but at least a couple cuties have come through the shop today, so I'll enjoy it all I can.
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Oh The People You'll Meet
Life is such a random trip sometimes. You never know when someone will walk into your life carrying poetry in their hearts. Or when an appreciative eye will recognize a work of art correctly positioned. It's a slow day in the shoppe, but it has lent itself well to interesting conversations.
A woman came in, noticed the poet stamps, and quoted William Carlos Williams. It's amazing how much really does depend on a red wheelbarrow... It led to a discussion of the usefulness of English degrees, as well as how they suck a bit of joy out of vapid reading... And it brought a spark of joy to my soul. Somehow it served to remind me that the lives we live matter, even on days when we seem insignificant. Her day had fallen behind schedule, but she spent a good twenty minutes just chatting with me about the joys of literature and learning. I felt somehow elevated.
Sometimes it seems that every day I'm reminded more and more how little I know, and what a dramatically huge step I've taken into uncertainty by buying a business. I don't know squat about running a business. Filing taxes is a deep dark dread that makes me quiver. A calendar of the Czech Republic on the wall at home, and a week spent watching an episode of Prostreno every night on the computer, reminds me of other lives lived, and how very distant that relatively care free life is now removed from my future.
Poetry, however, has not been forgotten. And the bits of art that are cropping up on the walls reminds me that there is beauty all around, just waiting to be expanded upon. Even in the face of gargantuan uncertainty there hope quietly sprouts in my heart, like the radishes and peas, cilantro and mint in our tiny clay soil garden.
A woman came in, noticed the poet stamps, and quoted William Carlos Williams. It's amazing how much really does depend on a red wheelbarrow... It led to a discussion of the usefulness of English degrees, as well as how they suck a bit of joy out of vapid reading... And it brought a spark of joy to my soul. Somehow it served to remind me that the lives we live matter, even on days when we seem insignificant. Her day had fallen behind schedule, but she spent a good twenty minutes just chatting with me about the joys of literature and learning. I felt somehow elevated.
Sometimes it seems that every day I'm reminded more and more how little I know, and what a dramatically huge step I've taken into uncertainty by buying a business. I don't know squat about running a business. Filing taxes is a deep dark dread that makes me quiver. A calendar of the Czech Republic on the wall at home, and a week spent watching an episode of Prostreno every night on the computer, reminds me of other lives lived, and how very distant that relatively care free life is now removed from my future.
Poetry, however, has not been forgotten. And the bits of art that are cropping up on the walls reminds me that there is beauty all around, just waiting to be expanded upon. Even in the face of gargantuan uncertainty there hope quietly sprouts in my heart, like the radishes and peas, cilantro and mint in our tiny clay soil garden.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Fire Chasers
Even before there's a scent on the wind
It begins to billow
Floating heavily upward
A shadow on the horizon.
We fix our eyes upon the growing tower
All questions, concerns and curiosity,
With breath held wondrously
Following the smoke.
Over hill, round perilous bends,
A mythological undertaking
To discover the source
And decipher the meaning.
A spark of flame was in the trees,
Glowing yellow and orange
Bathed in green
But this was not the fire.
We race and ramble on rocky paths,
Searching frantic
Until at last
We drive away unanswered.
Yesterday we set out on what ended up as a wild goose chase. As we drove around enjoying a sunny fall afternoon, we spotted the smoke rising and thought we'd give it a chase. It was a rather adventurous ride, but we never actually made it anywhere close to the blaze. All the same, it was worth it.
The birds sensed the danger and flew wildly.
We could tell we were on the right path as we flitted through the fields.
We drove through the forest and found great beasts.
And other wild creatures.
Then we took a break to look for gold which we also didn't find, but there were some interesting photo ops...
What mysterious stones.
And haunted flowers.
As well as some other lovely green leafy things.
And a little bit of posing as well.
And though we never found the fire we ended it off with a beautiful rainbow.
It begins to billow
Floating heavily upward
A shadow on the horizon.
We fix our eyes upon the growing tower
All questions, concerns and curiosity,
With breath held wondrously
Following the smoke.
Over hill, round perilous bends,
A mythological undertaking
To discover the source
And decipher the meaning.
A spark of flame was in the trees,
Glowing yellow and orange
Bathed in green
But this was not the fire.
We race and ramble on rocky paths,
Searching frantic
Until at last
We drive away unanswered.
Yesterday we set out on what ended up as a wild goose chase. As we drove around enjoying a sunny fall afternoon, we spotted the smoke rising and thought we'd give it a chase. It was a rather adventurous ride, but we never actually made it anywhere close to the blaze. All the same, it was worth it.
The birds sensed the danger and flew wildly.
We could tell we were on the right path as we flitted through the fields.
We drove through the forest and found great beasts.
And other wild creatures.
Then we took a break to look for gold which we also didn't find, but there were some interesting photo ops...
What mysterious stones.
And haunted flowers.
As well as some other lovely green leafy things.
And a little bit of posing as well.
And though we never found the fire we ended it off with a beautiful rainbow.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Orange and Unassuming
They sat there still,
All round and orange and unassuming,
Nestled in big cardboard boxes,
An Autumnal premonition.
The turn in weather,
Not always received with welcome,
Echoes the assumption,
Autumn is coming.
Something in their aspect,
Their lackadaisical nestled posture,
Was warmly comforting,
This Autumn morning.
Soon life transpires,
They'll change their shape,
All fang-toothed smiles
One Autumn night.
For now they sit,
Still striped with dirt in cozy piles,
Not knowing their fate
As Autumn falls.
This morning on my drive to work, I passed by Winco in the early morning. Despite the months I've worked this job, and the past few weeks when I've managed to ride my bike to work, early mornings are still not my friends. Something about the big pumpkins poking out of their display boxes in around the sliding doors warmed me inside. Fall always promises certain things. The skies turn gray and the rain begins to soak the ground, but the trees go all ablaze in a display of the fires inside. My birthday will come (not always sure how welcome that is at this stage, but I still like presents ;). Halloween will have it's day, bringing with it some ghoulish delights and age old traditions. Then there's Thanksgiving and all the taste sensations it inspires: pumpkin pies, turkey, endless treats. And this year the promise of another round of change, both professionally and then personally. In the midst of life that is ever flying, something about those pumpkins helped my mind to settle. They reminded me of the promise that every day is new, but that there are also sweet reminders of the past, those remembered traditions, to be enjoyed. They got so in my head that I thought of them all day, and even though I wrote a post earlier today I felt the need to write again. Just had to get it out, to help memorialize the moment.
All round and orange and unassuming,
Nestled in big cardboard boxes,
An Autumnal premonition.
The turn in weather,
Not always received with welcome,
Echoes the assumption,
Autumn is coming.
Something in their aspect,
Their lackadaisical nestled posture,
Was warmly comforting,
This Autumn morning.
Soon life transpires,
They'll change their shape,
All fang-toothed smiles
One Autumn night.
For now they sit,
Still striped with dirt in cozy piles,
Not knowing their fate
As Autumn falls.
This morning on my drive to work, I passed by Winco in the early morning. Despite the months I've worked this job, and the past few weeks when I've managed to ride my bike to work, early mornings are still not my friends. Something about the big pumpkins poking out of their display boxes in around the sliding doors warmed me inside. Fall always promises certain things. The skies turn gray and the rain begins to soak the ground, but the trees go all ablaze in a display of the fires inside. My birthday will come (not always sure how welcome that is at this stage, but I still like presents ;). Halloween will have it's day, bringing with it some ghoulish delights and age old traditions. Then there's Thanksgiving and all the taste sensations it inspires: pumpkin pies, turkey, endless treats. And this year the promise of another round of change, both professionally and then personally. In the midst of life that is ever flying, something about those pumpkins helped my mind to settle. They reminded me of the promise that every day is new, but that there are also sweet reminders of the past, those remembered traditions, to be enjoyed. They got so in my head that I thought of them all day, and even though I wrote a post earlier today I felt the need to write again. Just had to get it out, to help memorialize the moment.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Almost There...
Oh packing, how do I loathe thee? I'll not count the ways.
To do a thing so tedious would take to many days.
I dream of lofty weight limits, and luggage flown for free,
Of locking you without a fear that they'll safely let you be.
And then there are thoughts about airports, that flutter through my mind,
They seem to do so many things that make peace hard to find.
I do recall much sweeter eras of travel from the past,
When all those hard goodbyes didn't have to come so fast.
But now we all must live in fear of idiots with power,
Dreading the scans, the endless demands, and worries about two hours.
I'm ready just to have it done, and to be safely through,
To leave behind the stress and scales and be "home" fresh and new.
Any ideas what I've been up to today? Not to mention what every waking moment has been focused on for the past week or so. Hard to believe that tomorrow we're heading off. It sounds like we're going to make a night of it. Mark's sister will come in the afternoon to sleep for a few hours, then we're leaving about midnight so we should make it in plenty of time for our departure. Our flight leaves at 5:55, so we have to be there now later than 4. Pray that the road conditions are clear. It's been cold and icy with snow for the past few days. We've got roughly 2 or 3 inches at the moment. I don't think any fresh came down today, but it sure is cold. When I was in Prague on Thursday there wasn't any snow, but it can still be treacherous for driving.
We're also hoping for no flight delays. At the moment we should have plenty of time for getting through the whole immigration process, but delays would add stress to it all, so prayers for a smooth process all the way through would be immensely appreciated.
Hard to believe the time really is almost here. I'm in that holding pattern at the moment where most things are done, but I'm just not quite sure what to do with myself until it's really time to go. And the more times I check information about luggage and flight delays and weather the more freaked out I get. Unfortunately, even looking at wedding things freaks me out right now because I start seeing how close it all is and how I have no clues about anything and no job and and and... Breath. Do. Not Hyper. Vent. I. Late.
God is in control. I've seen that time and time again throughout this process. You'd think that would teach me to finally get over my habits of worrying and freaking out, but it seems I haven't grown up that much yet. I still fail. I still look at the daunting tasks ahead of me and question everything. Even those things I know to be true. There are so many things to be thankful for. So many reasons to rejoice. And in 48 hours I'll be flying over America. And in 72 hours I'll be sound asleep in McMinville (hopefully, if jet lag isn't to silly with me.)
Pause.
Sigh.
Keep breathing...
To do a thing so tedious would take to many days.
I dream of lofty weight limits, and luggage flown for free,
Of locking you without a fear that they'll safely let you be.
And then there are thoughts about airports, that flutter through my mind,
They seem to do so many things that make peace hard to find.
I do recall much sweeter eras of travel from the past,
When all those hard goodbyes didn't have to come so fast.
But now we all must live in fear of idiots with power,
Dreading the scans, the endless demands, and worries about two hours.
I'm ready just to have it done, and to be safely through,
To leave behind the stress and scales and be "home" fresh and new.
Any ideas what I've been up to today? Not to mention what every waking moment has been focused on for the past week or so. Hard to believe that tomorrow we're heading off. It sounds like we're going to make a night of it. Mark's sister will come in the afternoon to sleep for a few hours, then we're leaving about midnight so we should make it in plenty of time for our departure. Our flight leaves at 5:55, so we have to be there now later than 4. Pray that the road conditions are clear. It's been cold and icy with snow for the past few days. We've got roughly 2 or 3 inches at the moment. I don't think any fresh came down today, but it sure is cold. When I was in Prague on Thursday there wasn't any snow, but it can still be treacherous for driving.
We're also hoping for no flight delays. At the moment we should have plenty of time for getting through the whole immigration process, but delays would add stress to it all, so prayers for a smooth process all the way through would be immensely appreciated.
Hard to believe the time really is almost here. I'm in that holding pattern at the moment where most things are done, but I'm just not quite sure what to do with myself until it's really time to go. And the more times I check information about luggage and flight delays and weather the more freaked out I get. Unfortunately, even looking at wedding things freaks me out right now because I start seeing how close it all is and how I have no clues about anything and no job and and and... Breath. Do. Not Hyper. Vent. I. Late.
God is in control. I've seen that time and time again throughout this process. You'd think that would teach me to finally get over my habits of worrying and freaking out, but it seems I haven't grown up that much yet. I still fail. I still look at the daunting tasks ahead of me and question everything. Even those things I know to be true. There are so many things to be thankful for. So many reasons to rejoice. And in 48 hours I'll be flying over America. And in 72 hours I'll be sound asleep in McMinville (hopefully, if jet lag isn't to silly with me.)
Pause.
Sigh.
Keep breathing...
Monday, March 1, 2010
Psalms of Ascent
I've been doing a Bible study this year by Beth Moore. I've often found that it's easier for me to go deeper into God's word if I have some sort of guide to follow. So often when I read over the familiar words on the pages of the Bible my mind drifts. Rather than seeing the deeper truths, rather than letting the words saturate my heart, I find myself doing it more for the sake of doing it, for remaining in the discipline, rather than really finding anything life changing on the pages.
I've really been enjoying this particular book that I've been using. Partly because at the end of each unit there is a little creative writing segment. The goal is to rewrite the Psalm that has been studied into a more personal format. When I went on Teen Missions back in 1996 (scary long time ago) each member of the team was responsible for leading Bible study at least once during the summer. Being the person I've always been, I opted to take a Psalm and paraphrase it, then I had all my teammates do likewise with a really short Psalm. Not sure if it was right up all their alleys, but they did it all the same and I enjoyed myself. Therefore, I've been quite excited to have the opportunity to do the same thing with these studies. I'm not trying to say I've created a new translation in the process of putting things into my own words. I've just made it all sink a little deeper into my head by going through the study and adding my feelings into the words.
I think the Psalms are the best part of the Bible to do this with. While it can be helpful to look intensely into what is being said everywhere in the Bible, the Psalms are the most human part of God's word. They're the place where man gives vent to his thoughts, frustrations, hopes, dreams, and innermost feelings. The psalmists poured everything into this beautiful poetry. Likewise, I enjoy taking their words and imagining how I would say the same things, how my heart would cry out in the circumstances of my own days. So I thought it might be interesting to share some of my Psalms of Ascent here as well. I won't say that they're exactly paralleling what is going on in my life at the moment. They're more in response to the original words, and how they echo in my head after studying them. So here's Psalm 120:
In my distress I called to the Lord,
and He answered me:
"Lord deliver me from lying lips
and a deceitful tongue."
What will He give you,
and what will He do to you,
you deceitful tongue?
A warrior's sharp arrows,
with burning charcoal!
What misery that I have stayed in Meshech,
that I have lived among the tents of Kedar!
I have lived to long
with those who hate peace.
I am for peace; but when I speak,
they are for war.
And now for my version:
I cry out to God,
I who am miserable,
Buried amongst deceit
I cry out empty and await His answer.
Those who have lied,
Those who have mistreated
They shall get their reward,
But it is not mine to repay their misery with misery.
I've dwelt long in their darkness
Allowing their mind games and
manipulation to torture me.
It's hard to see the reason for so much abuse.
All I ask is for a cease fire
For us to be reasonable and at peace.
But they insist upon continued dissent.
They refuse to hear my plea.
Okay, so maybe this first one isn't exactly uplifting. A bit of a downer really, but it's only the beginning of the journey. A place to start looking forward to a better time, a safer place. And it's always good to be reminded that God wants to hear everything that is in our hearts. He wants us to feel free to come to Him with everything that is within us. Naturally, His desire is for our hearts to be turned to praise, but that isn't possible every moment of every day. So He takes us as we come. Broken and bruised, or thankful and jubilant. These are the sort of things that uplift me.
I've really been enjoying this particular book that I've been using. Partly because at the end of each unit there is a little creative writing segment. The goal is to rewrite the Psalm that has been studied into a more personal format. When I went on Teen Missions back in 1996 (scary long time ago) each member of the team was responsible for leading Bible study at least once during the summer. Being the person I've always been, I opted to take a Psalm and paraphrase it, then I had all my teammates do likewise with a really short Psalm. Not sure if it was right up all their alleys, but they did it all the same and I enjoyed myself. Therefore, I've been quite excited to have the opportunity to do the same thing with these studies. I'm not trying to say I've created a new translation in the process of putting things into my own words. I've just made it all sink a little deeper into my head by going through the study and adding my feelings into the words.
I think the Psalms are the best part of the Bible to do this with. While it can be helpful to look intensely into what is being said everywhere in the Bible, the Psalms are the most human part of God's word. They're the place where man gives vent to his thoughts, frustrations, hopes, dreams, and innermost feelings. The psalmists poured everything into this beautiful poetry. Likewise, I enjoy taking their words and imagining how I would say the same things, how my heart would cry out in the circumstances of my own days. So I thought it might be interesting to share some of my Psalms of Ascent here as well. I won't say that they're exactly paralleling what is going on in my life at the moment. They're more in response to the original words, and how they echo in my head after studying them. So here's Psalm 120:
In my distress I called to the Lord,
and He answered me:
"Lord deliver me from lying lips
and a deceitful tongue."
What will He give you,
and what will He do to you,
you deceitful tongue?
A warrior's sharp arrows,
with burning charcoal!
What misery that I have stayed in Meshech,
that I have lived among the tents of Kedar!
I have lived to long
with those who hate peace.
I am for peace; but when I speak,
they are for war.
And now for my version:
I cry out to God,
I who am miserable,
Buried amongst deceit
I cry out empty and await His answer.
Those who have lied,
Those who have mistreated
They shall get their reward,
But it is not mine to repay their misery with misery.
I've dwelt long in their darkness
Allowing their mind games and
manipulation to torture me.
It's hard to see the reason for so much abuse.
All I ask is for a cease fire
For us to be reasonable and at peace.
But they insist upon continued dissent.
They refuse to hear my plea.
Okay, so maybe this first one isn't exactly uplifting. A bit of a downer really, but it's only the beginning of the journey. A place to start looking forward to a better time, a safer place. And it's always good to be reminded that God wants to hear everything that is in our hearts. He wants us to feel free to come to Him with everything that is within us. Naturally, His desire is for our hearts to be turned to praise, but that isn't possible every moment of every day. So He takes us as we come. Broken and bruised, or thankful and jubilant. These are the sort of things that uplift me.
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