birth(my how proud pythagoras would be)
opening night of this grand scene
and alas from the mouth where none have dared sing
we dare to voice this great and mighty chant of sorts
i find my glory in this lean-to
such an unholy structure
complete with ashen floors and straw scattered in ideal places
this place of shame is where i find my pride and my joy is defined
they will sing their songs and i will bide my time
it seems that's the only line of thought that keeps me from stepping out of line
"oh, a Saviour is born" and "glory to G-d!"
and myself in myopic pursuit, i wonder what is truly one night
spent cold
dark
alone
in this dread
i spread my cold hands out from a bowed head, across the window, this latchless, glassless, empty hole
it symbolizes You and i and everything that keeps us apart
it's deepest recess, my darkest soul
we're synonymous
oh, i could offer You this home, but it's as if i'm too good to let You in...
and i am...
would You listen to me? i'll bring these gifts, these fine thoughts, these fine gestures
and i'll catch You staring up from amongst the fog
both of us know this is so beyond me!
YOU are so beyond me!
and so i make my plea, take these gifts and just honor me
honor me for trying...
as if i could make Your love and life
some sort of game played with cards and dice
You gaze at me and i can tell, You see so much more than just Your own reflection in my eyes
You see me for what i am, an undeserving, unknowing wretch
but You're ok with that
and forgiveness pours from Your every smile, every laugh
i've never known such great love...
it defines, it controls, while all the while allowing me to run free into sunlit fields of freedom and liberation
and You're so small... yet surely You know...
"this must be the Christ" and "glory to G-d"
You're not the one in the cold tonight, my Saviour, i'm afraid i play that part.
life(a perfectly drawn line in the sand)
the sun and the stars intertwine to create a masterpiece of pure white on illuminated blue
You walk and even the flowers tend to follow your gentle scent
but it wasn’t always this way
and it won’t always be
i am finding You new in silence…in the dreary times…
when the bell rings
but i’m still awake and i haven’t figured out quite why…
and mix
and that You speak in revolution and revelation
a solace…but You won’t let me…
and retreat seems so far away from who you are inviting me to become
with great elegance and eloquence
oh the elaborate disguises worn to tonight’s show
and Your gentle eyes seem to penetrate each directly to the marrow
yet You never condemn, never betray
just silently in a flourish of sorts, You whisk Yourself away
to a peaceful night under the stars
but the captains overboard and i can’t steer it on my own
in the eyes of something so divine with the foresight to love me eternally
of this charade of a life filled with none but passersby…
brushing shoulders with noone and whats-his-face
not too alarmed…and so unconcerned
and i can see that brushing shoulders is enough to speak volumes
of Your love and mercy and grace…so cliché…yet so sincerely candid
add 1 part empathy, 1 part emotion
and mix
as if someone took the center of my heart
and placed it in the fire
and fanned so gently until it’s wrecked then refined
love(do i? do i? do…i?)
so...they say that You can save...
so surely You can increase my faith
but if You can't that's ok anyway
an uncontrolable urge to quit seems so...
typical
i must find for myself restitution
i must pacify the savage
who has quenched the fire that blazed deep in my atriums and vena cavas
to circumvent the sin… hara kiri is how i function
the martyrdom of myself all over the kitchen floor
i’ll just mop up what i can't manage to contain in my stomach
i’ll just throw away what i think i don't need
but i always needed
oh, what a symphony…
forgotten by word of mouth
sifted through my hands like sand
this parchment used to soak up the blood that came flowing from my ego
stendhal would never understand…
yet the utterance of YOUR name leaves me broken...
and open
a broken and open wound in the fresh wind
and my pittance...
simply acknowledging You...being alive!
because i am not!
i am not and i will not be! i refuse!
the lions and the mice and the whole spectrum in between
with the leaves and the trees they will join in one voice
to utter
the
unutterable
and somehow i'm still mumbling about my faults
pointed thoughts might have hammered You in
but i long ago swore i'd never go there again
yet...i take You there every single day
but i won't leave You there like those hypocrites
as the tears of the Father fall on the Son
in one half of a moment
i find myself and You
as one
broken and hurting
a broken and hurting
scapegoat
but that’s the reality of this love…
death(deflation and career changes)
then i found You alone with misery and pity for Your clothes
with promises of hope but You seem oh so detached
complete with matted hair stuck to Your face and slurred speech
giving widows away and thoughts of trust, dependability
and i’m afraid i’m more like them than i’d admit to being
when inside i know my iniquities…
forgiven, yet still all of me
“I know You couldn’t take my cup, but My spirit, My Father, I lift it up”
and louder… and louder… and…
and a game of dice is their currency
we’re not so far apart…
it grips and molds and rips and holds
and leaves me complete
this pattern becomes a haven against such agony and despair
and in a desperate attempt to make all wrongs right,
to calm my storms that rage deep inside,
You speak Your last
but the words spoken are separate from the ones i expected to hear
from the deserved…we’re still worlds apart…
and…You looked at me…
and in a second i knew the hope of this sick life was redeemed
and this cycle was complete, birth, life, love, death…
and we loved
loved without pretense, without need
and You smiled…
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