Saturday, December 19, 2009

This isn't mine but is somethng I desperately need to hear!

I did a significant amount of crying today and dialogue with God about my life.  This poem came to mind - something I have heard Ravi Zacharias read in a few of his lectures.  I can't say that it made me stop crying - maybe even a little worse than before.  But it is very healing to read it!
-----------

When God wants to drill a man,

And thrill a man,

And skill a man

When God wants to mold a man

To play the noblest part;


When He yearns with all His heart

To create so great and bold a man

That all the world shall be amazed,

Watch His methods, watch His ways!


How He ruthlessly perfects

Whom He royally elects!

How He hammers him and hurts him,

And with mighty blows converts him


Into trial shapes of clay which

Only God understands;

While his tortured heart is crying

And he lifts beseeching hands!


How He bends but never breaks

When his good He undertakes;

How He uses whom He chooses,

And which every purpose fuses him;

By every act induces him

To try His splendor out-

God knows what He's about.


--- Author Unknown -----

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The System

Placed in our Cast
Assigned by things beyond our grasp
A system shaped before our time
Inescapable – Unfathomable
It has no Rhyme

I have heard of those who move beyond
I have dreamt of places, outside my pond
Myths and legends of doors that cheat
Of armies and worriers and of swifter feet

Stories of strength - enough to break my cage
Someday to scream - to let loose this rage
To fall through to more than I have now
To set my foot and finally touch the ground

More than substance it what I crave
More that life that leads to grave
Immortal man that lives inside
Break through and find

What it means to be alive

One Step



My Cradle forged in perfect peace
Blankets swaddle me in – a mothers fleece
No awareness, conception, or dream of “out-side”
Umbilical existence – I have no need to hide

One Step

Then torn into the harsh of cold
Shaken and scattered by a place - so old
My dwelling now – the void
It lacking love, compassion, hope but wrought with fear

One Step for us
One Step

We move from birth to broken earth


From there to here
Never returning
Forgetting what there was

Yet

Always longing for something more

Sunday, December 06, 2009

Unknown

Life is a puzzle
Perplexing at least
The mind is so riddled, it has caught no relief

The torrent of pain that marks out the path
Leaves me with this question
One question I ask

Why must a man learn on his own?
Standing in waters
Uncharted – Unknown
Seeking the role he is intended to play
How will he know if he has found the right way?

Like a lost child - no parents in sight
No Father - No Mother to lead him to what’s right
Left here to wander and struggle alone
Missing answers to questions, that the winds cant bestow

He has lost the great books that the elders laid out
The path now forgotten – even light now in doubt
Scrolls buried in the Deluge of skeptical thought
No Matsya to fetch them or heal the man that’s so wrought


Where is the bender and shaper of man?

Has he forgotten the child and his hurting friend?

When will he return and find us misplaced?

Tossed about by the torrent of our crumbling space


Why must a man learn on his own?

Saturday, December 05, 2009

Twenty First Century – The Edited MAN

Ok before you read this, I want to make sure you understand my intentions. 
Firstly, in this poem, I am not trying to make a sexist statement about men's superiority.  This is an attempt to share my experience and struggle as a man in a culture that (I feel)  is “intolerant” of me as a man.  I am probably one of the more compassionate and committed men you will ever meet.  I have three children who l love whole heartedly and would do anything for.  While I feel that I have an innate nurturing ability, I still love to be “masculine”  but  feel that in our day, I am forced to repress that which makes me who I am. 
Secondly, this is one of a two part series.  The next poem will relate to a culture that attempts to push the “Female” of our day into roles that are viewed as “liberating”.  However, it – in a new way – forces her to adopt new cultural paradigm that is no better than the previous (instead of offering a new option).


Edited man
Does all that he can

Super Hero
Model Citizen
 
Eats Raisin Bran


When they first found him

He was just a Brute Beast

Now he waits for others

before he starts his feast


Mild Mannered

More Feminine

Then he’s ever been

Never a whisker on the tip of his chin


They think him reborn

Remade

More Refined

He never hunts

Or tries to “unwind”


No more gruff patterns

No more sharp edges

He can breastfeed a baby

While trimming the hedges


On the outside he’s perfect

From the floor to his grin

Right Clothes, Right Words

Right Actions, Right Trim


But inside he’s dyeing

He failing to breath

Can not find an answer

In all that he sees


His life, a castration

Of all that he is

The culture defines him

What a “good man” he is!


So much for what’s mutual

We’ve by passed that stage

Who cares for what’s equal

He now “belongs” to this era

And the “Culture” the “Sage”


A man is not lazy

He can be responsible too

He’s more than a beast

That belongs at the Zoo


There’s value in:

masculinity – strength – the mechanical mind

the hunter – gatherer – fisherman’s brine

Mathematics – Logic

They weren’t created by Man

But how do you explain why “he” is more “bent” toward them


There is a difference

We all know that its true

But for some reason

we think

the world would be better

if we “fit” the same shoe

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Missing

A creature born with out a home
A man who sleeps upon a stone
Missing every piece of bread
Living life but looking dead

His head bowed low before its time
Humbled, without reason or rhyme
The pattern of the ticking clock
Sometimes, he wishes his would stop

What brought him here?
Is he to blame? 
In what way
will his Demon’s tame?

Why was he left here to rot?
Maybe the victim of some plot?
Is he not human?
Like you -- or me
How does he die, when people see?

I saw him fall the other day
I reached out but he deplored
“I can make it” “walk on by”
“ just like you did the times before”

What made me bend and change my way?
What made me look and my time, pay?
Is there more to life than this
I live my life but “LIFE” I miss

Is my path - for me alone?
Do I see people or just the drone?
Slave to things - I think, make me free
But in the end, they just own me!!!

My Rush To Do
Tasks To Complete
When their done
They just deplete

I miss the things that mean the most
Love people much

 and

let --- “things” ----go

The Sleeping Stone



Awake and Asleep – Throughout All Time
Aware and Dreaming – Seem Just Fine
The surface changed but beneath the same
Just like the clothing of the People GAME

Silent Observer of things gone by
Lover of rest, and peace, and sky
Knower of Truth and Nature HE
Never Deceived by the HUMAN be

Long Deep Breaths
Sometimes a soft sigh
Creaking Frustration
A Still Small Cry

One Thousand years - just like a blink
Ageless mind, solid, resolute, with out a chink
Philosopher and Teacher of all our past
Knowing that our time here will never last

Watching us in our youth and our lessons learned
Our mistakes, heart aches, and the ground that we turned
The ideas thought, virtues sought, and lives we lost
He believing and hopping the best from us all

His world to us given
Capable of such good
To grow and become
The Strength of this sphere

But time goes by
He sees our new clothing
On the surface were changing
But beneath were the same

A youth with out discipline
Wayward son – Unfastened Daughter
In the clothes of the Hero

but beneath

Cowering, Fearing, Lust Driven, Disobedient

Child

His Hope for us dashed
Our true nature he sees
Instead of the Human bringing life
we brings a disease.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Escape

---- Ok this is not about me --- it is a poem written from reflecting on my occupation ---- Seriously!

Gazing through a fence
Hatched pattern in the twilight
Scan of my surroundings
Barren – Empty
Nothing warm within my sight

Thinking through a riddled sketch
Mapping out my flight
Sorting through this puzzle
Seems less difficult at night

The cold is coming on
Winter purchased by our toil
Soon the ground will harden
A bitter swathe of frozen bite

My naked feet upon the stone
No shoes to part them from the cold
Will my dash be worth the ache
I know I mustn’t hesitate

Will I be found
Will I Fail
Will they take me far from here

Who will I be
when my journey ends
Can I evade
and make amends

Bound by things I can’t control
My choices made inside a bowl
Limits of my life itself
And not of things selected by myself

My Land of my birth
Or of my wealth
My Genetic Path
Or of final earth

This place I’m in
Results, of my course
But charted by something
Outside my source

my map unfold

my story told

will it be changed  when I am old

Is it my trade to find
 a way to shift?
To move beyond my FATED rift

A choice to flee
Seems like a gift

Or

Does it make me more adrift?

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

How Small?

World wide insanity
Is death to all Humanity
We reject Divine and worship self
We store ideals high on a shelf

The past we Forget
we repeat it
again and again
In different forms and different ways
But we are the same, we never change

We all scream
“Babies are dieing in the streets”
But we're all silent

When we kill them in the womb

I ask you if their human
But you don’t really know
So you take a chance and end the life
You never ever see them grow

So is injured in the end
Whose rights are failed to defend
They have no voice
They can not speak
They have no choice
They are the “weak”

Pretentious Hero
Pretending Friend
Your battle shout  “lift up the wronged”
But you fail to defend

Who is smaller
Who is more wronged
Who can say less
Who less belonged

You see an issue
an issues is all
But in the words of the poet
"A person’s a person, no matter how small!"

The Real

Always moving
Is it really improving?
I keep spinning round
Everyday
A little closer to the ground
  
Feels just like night
When the day begins, will it really bring light?
It’s been dark for so long
Does the Sun still exist?
Or is it just a myth, getting lost in the mist?

This place is in haze
Like a drug induced daze
Can't tell what is really REAL
Over emotions that you feel

Progression – Regression?
I don’t really know
What does it take to make a World grow?
A weed behind glass or a seed in a Jar
We keep it in the lab and never get very far

If the seed is never sown
and the plant never grown
The lesson not taught
words never known


Is it a thought in a bottle?
Whisper in the dark
An idea under cover
A theme without a start

Should it be concealed?
Tucked away
Not reveled
Or hidden in places
Buried in some great field

What is this strange thing?
that's so dangerous to man
Because, it not someting
He can hold in his hand

To own it, posses it, explain it away
He can't manipulate TRUTH
Only "Perspective" this way

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Walk

I walk away, into a storm that blacks out light. With each step I take, I think I'm losing all my fight. Walking to places I thought i never see. After all of this, I guess I'm still wondering who, someday, I'll be.
The rain that's coming down feels like its penetrating my soul. My mind is bused and my heart is feeling cold. The skin that wraps me in, is barely holding on. So when I fall apart - I fall apart for good.

My life is like a stick, attached to a string, sitting in a river that keeps pulling me. Tied to people, places, and things. With out them I'm not sure where I would be

Three

worlds, hearts, minds --- needing, longing, hoping, watching, learning, still loving

------- Always Holding ME ------ Keeping ME ------ Here -------

Something outside of me still trying to hold my hand. I flinch, I cringe, I cry.

Its better than I am.

The warmth is alien and love cuts me. It hurts and its my nature to back away.

Born into a place that teaches me to avoid the uncomfortable. To open myself up seems idiotic and impossible.

You want to know my thoughts but they are all tucked away. I want to access them but it feels safer - better off this way.

riddles - snippets - wonder

I wait patiently

The Evolution Of NEM

Limitless Void
Unruly Companion
Insanity Guiding
The World

Hiding

Where does it go
When will it end
From where have we come
Does it still have a friend

We use to

lean - TRUST - listen - LEARN
HOPE - humble - LOVE - Yearn

Do we still have a guide
Has he left us alone
No "ONE" by our side
Or

Have we left our home

The World is more FLAT
Than its ever been
It's smaller
It's colder
Is it near an end?

Oh time will continue
But so much for men
For we have lost all virtue
And evolved into nem

It's backwards, I tell you!
We stand on our heads
We spend all day pondering
The "FUN" that's ahead

Civilisation is only a way to indulge
Our lusts and Our stomachs
Beginning to bulge
The end of the human
The end of it all

Somehow evolving
Into a creature
Resembling a BALL

Outcast

I close my eyes
So I can see
I shut out my heart
I try to find me

Abandoned - Outcast
Untouchable fiend

The grass cuts
I try to step softly
But Each gash -
Reminds me

Life - Distributes pain - Pain has no favorites

The weight of my history
The mass of it
Unshakable - Unbreakable - Impenetrable

Fog

I know what I've done
I know where I've been
When this is all over
Will I still call you friend

Awake in the night
Like an owl or ghost
Waking to find
I am alone

Perhaps I'm mistaken
And I am its pet
Will I always be I limited
By the things I regret

Can I move beyond
Can I heal my own hurt
If only time can bring healing
Then what is my work

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Can't Stay Awake!!!!!

You know its bad when:

1. You have already taken your ADD meds
2. You have had 2 cups of Jim's "special" coffee

and you cant tsay kewaa

bttre tyr aother cup of cofeff

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The End

A claim to a knowledge
Baffling at least
Finite and limited
The mind of a thief

Walking the Pathways
Opening the Doors
The smell of Dust
and years gone, before

Looking - Seeking
Pondering and Grief
The Rigger - the toil
No rest or relief

Intellectual Poverty
Whats New? Whats New?
We try to find novelty
Forgetting whats True

For the sake of the glory
To break out of the old
Tradition and Ritual
"Rejection" is Gold

Be your own person
Make your own right
But how can you judge me
When I choose to fight

If no thoughts are better
If no ideas are King
Then there's nothing defining

Murder

or Stealing

The culture that rapes the minds of our youth
We force them to believe that - "there is no great truth!"

Life is what you make it
I've herd more than one say
As if I'm the definer - the designer
Today

So have your "great fun" - There's no end! - There's no purpose!

Experience and Passion
Are all we have left
So from your own, perspective
You live the life you "think" best

Where's the guide of the blind
or the healers of thought
No mentors - no fathers
To show us wrong and whats right

For today's "great philosophers" -

who say experience is KING

They're still and silent

Prefer the end

of a gun

Saturday, November 07, 2009

The Man Of The Hour

Wrapped in a blanket of history and pain
A cloth that's torn and dragged through the puddles

In the rain

Individual Story - Where is the glory?

Cascading chaos

Perpetually Infinite

WHO are we at the end of this day? Who are any of us and what have we to say? Where will we go and to whom will we turn? Our drama, our play, our movie, or book. Our life is a magazine with an absent outlook! Internally we gaze, our hearts are ablaze with greed, with self, with pride, and anger! We know who we are and the drive that's within and yet we live on and on - AND still we pretend!

Duplicity, Duality - is it yin? is it yang? for in them their is unity and in us - just insanity

In one mind we live - to our own ends, alone

The other we shout - "for the homeless, a home!"

"We write our own stories" - is the chant and the mantra!

And in them we fall, we fail, we die.

No meaning - no purpose - no truth - no love

We make it our own

and "REAL LIFE" we disown

Monday, November 02, 2009

Hey there Blogonots!

Been a while - like over a year - so just thought I would throw out an update.

I just started a comparative study of the Stoic concept of the Logos to the Tao. My hope is to discover a philosophical, historical, and cultural link between the two thoughts. I believe that such concepts are not only self-evident but are also divinely inspired.

I will intro you to the topic soon - I think :)

Jim