[Forgive]Ness Monster

Be prepared for my greatest work yet .... a masterpiece!


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I said I would, but I didn't try,

It's hard to explain, I don't know why.

I can't seem to keep up, it's hard to ignore,

Other needs beside you, you're so easy to take for granted.

Why it happened this way

Won't ever be explained.

I just wanted to say

I'm sorry,

But not quite sorry enough.

I shouldn't ignore you, though you understand,

I don't want to do this, and I feel your reprimand.

Soft and not scornful, simple and grim,

Not making me sorry, just leaving me enchanted.

It shouldn't have to be this way,

Hard to start and easy to end.

Why does it have to be this way?

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And it rhymes! That's what makes it so terrible! I'm so excited!

^What a waste of space!^

I'm Not Blogging. Really.

I don't really feel like writing any poetry today, so I think I'll skip it.













Just kidding.

I don't know what I'm going to write, so this may be terrible, but nobody reads this blog anyway!
Here goes nothing:


Her reddish hair waves in the wind,
As she walks over the open field,
Toward the road that she knows is there.
The tears in her eyes reveal
The tears in her soul.

No one should feel this alone.

She clenches her fists and
Walks alone,
Determined not to let her feelings show.

But they do,
And she knows.
Even in that great field
Under an open sky.
Even when she thinks she's alone,
Someone sees.
Deep inside she knows.

She's been locking herself up inside,
Her heart is beating
But she doesn't feel alive.
She knows no pain,
Even though she tries to.

Just because you're alive
Doesn't mean you can't be dead.

But new life exists,
All that is required
Is that she die to the death
That is this world.
Doesn't sound so hard,
Does it?
Doesn't it?
It's not.
Trust me.

Trust Him.

{Non}Sense

Saw something new on the news today,
What's news to the world may not be new to me.
One nuisance about the new in news,
Is that it rarely ever is.
We hear what we're wanted to hear,
See what we think we're seeing
Independently.
Through the eyes of the faceless
Camera which shows what is hidden,
Hides what is shown.

We're under attack,
A sheme in the grand siege of things.
But they seem to have the advantage,
They provide not only information,
But also the point of view.
We see what we're wanted to,
Feel what we're wanting to,
I don't know what we're wanting to learn.
We're being shown what it means to mean nothing,
And say everything.
We're under attack.

Why do we pursue Truth,
In the world that only equates it to
Nonsense?
It's not in the world,
It's out of our reach.
It's hiding from those of us
With haze-colored glasses.
But it still wants to be found.
He still wants to be found.

A Worthless Pursuit (A Poem)

He's independent and proud of it,
Never stops for a minute to think
How it could be any different.
He cries while thoughts run circles in his head,
leaving him dizzy and dissatisfied.

We all need dependence,
Someone or something we can trust more than we can trust anyone,
We're crying for help, but there seems to be no answer,
Maybe we're looking in the wrong place.

He's lived the college life for years now,
Established his identity by the tattoos and piercings
He wears like a mask.
What if he stopped to think that he's not the answer,
To every silent question thrown at him:
"Are you different enough?"
"What's wrong with you?"
He's running but can't escape.
He hides behind a facade of distance,
But not even that can make him
Independent.

There is an answer to the obsessive compulsive disorder
That defines society.
They're working like slaves to be free and independent,
When all the time the one who can't be seen is staring them in the face.

He lies on his bed.
Thinking of what he could have done with his life.
"What could be different?"
"What happens after death?"
The tattoos show on his wrinkled skin,
Less like a mask now
And more like filthy rags.
He looks at his blackened arms,
And realizes that all his independence never set him free.
He sighs a sigh of deep relief,
And gives up his life hours before he falls asleep.
All he could do was die for his independence.

Randomness

Wow.

I've tried starting a blog several times over the past few years, but it never worked out. Only time will tell if this one will stick around or not. I am just going to write about what is going on in my life and not worrying about staying on a particular topic.

It is super hot here in Colorado. I don't have air conditioning in my house, so that makes it a lot worse. I lived in Las Vegas Nevada for about six years of my life, and it was hot, but for some reason it feels hotter here in Colorado. In reality, though, it is usually about twenty degrees cooler here in the summer.

I am trying to see if I can find a hammered dulcimer to learn to play here. I heard Gabe Scott play one at a Bebo Norman concert I went to a while back, and have wanted to play ever since. I found a dulcimer on craigslist, but the lady I contacted about it takes a long time to answer her e-mails :p . I want to learn how to play Ragamuffin style. If you've ever heard recordings of Rich Mullins playing, you know what I'm talking about. He could PLAY a hammered dulcimer.

I just made contact with one of the friends that I knew in Georgia about three years ago. It was great to talk to him and see how he was doing.

That's all of my thoughts for today. Hopefully more tommorrow (but probably not).

Noah