Emo

Love’s Illusiveness

I can’t touch it
I can’t feel it
Where is it hidden
In the cosmos
In the nebulas
Where can I grab it
Grapple it
Caress it
Press it against my face
Open my chest
And place it inside
Tickle it with my nose
And run it down my neck

Instead my fingers grasp air
I squint and see it
But it must be an illusion
Because it is void
There’s nothing there

But what if I took another glance
What if I tilted my head
Or peek-a-boo’d the heavens

Then what if I took hold of it
Left it powerless in my fingertips
Pressed it down
Pinched it
Pulled it with all my power
Would it still escape my perseverance

But what if You inhaled
Every fragment unable to escape
What if it entered your trachea and filled your bronchioles
What if it filtered through Your blood

Then could I grab You
Can you become tangible
And press your lips against mine
And breathe, breathe, breathe
Exhale, exhale, exhale
And then I breathe, breathe, breathe,
And inhale, inhale, inhale

Then it travels through me
My bronchioles nearly burst
My heart pumps harder than ever before
My skin becomes tactile
And now I’m no longer a savage
Because in me lives the divine
And a touch of the universe has entered my darkness

Emo Warning

This illusory image of Eden
Why am I invincible
Untouched by its ambiance

Without love we are savages
Without it, I am empty
Unable to reciprocate

The grandeur of this moment
Is met with cold smiles
My face feels disfigured
My laugh is forced
My fists are clinched

How long will this bitter chill
Echo through my soul
How long will I break like ice
Those who leap into my arms

When did I become an animal
But even a dog loves his master
When did I become an insect
But instead I smash their fragile hearts

Cause God can.

Clad me in cloths of purple
And place an emerald crown upon my brow
Tell me I’m a prince

Ride horses with me
When the dusk stretches miles
Tell me I’m a prince

Convince me that I’m ready
Your courage to me avow
Tell me I’m a prince

Because for far too long
I’ve wandered the courtyard
With averted glances of inferiority

But bring me into the courts
Call me enough
And tell me I’m a prince

With your scepter touch my signet
And clothe me in your royal gown
Place me upon your golden throne
And tell me I’m a prince

craziness.

I like the world where yards are fenced
Lawns are trimmed
And trees are pruned

I like the world where shirts are tucked
Slacks are pressed
And hair is cut

I like the world with rules defined
Boundaries set
It’s black and white

I live the world of wilderness
Where seeds to fly
And trees grow wild

I live the world with chucks and pantyhose
And black lipstick
And unmatching clothes

I live the world that’s full of gray
with many definitions
of what’s okay

but fences hold back the beauty of the wild
where trees and springs burst forth in deserts and break through pavement

and dress codes force uniformity, conformity,
where expression, beauty and creativity was once called deformity

while people may knows rules, rules don’t know people
who live and breathe and struggle and think

I learning to like the world where beauty lives
Where homogeny and utopia break down to
Ingenuity and loving diverse community

Love is

If love spoke the world
And erupted into light
And clothed the trees with leaves
And filled the massive mote

If love danced with the wind
So it would trickle on our necks
And filled the clouds with dew
Bursting forth the ground’s food

If love’s behind the cheetah’s sprint
In the solace of a turtle
Respires every gill
And ballets the eagle’s wings

Then this love that swells within my heart
This pure, eurhythmic repertoire
The unadulterated mystery
Is anything but unnatural

Blossom.

'And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was

more painful than the risk it took to blossom.' --Anais Nin

Risk is scary. Like in that crazy Bible story. The one where the Israelites were finally about to cross into the Promised Land. As if their previous calamities were not sufficient, God put them to one last test. He said to cross the waters. Dude, I'm sure they were over the whole 'crossing the waters' thing. I mean, yeah, they'd heard the story about old Mo and the chariots and the Red Sea and that whole business, but really. Let me in the effin Promised Land. The taste of milk and honey is on the tip of my tongue, so don't make me cross another crazy-ass body of water. But no, God thought that was way too boring of an ending. So God made them cross it.

So imagine the scene. You look ahead of you. Your gaze is fixed upon the Promised Land. One last barrier stands in the way of you and your destiny. But suddenly, your daydream is interrupted by a crashing wave, two, three. Your feeble frame is no match from the crippling and daunting tsunami of steel blue waves before you. So you wait. Surely God will calm this shit down before you have to cross. You glance at your watch. Still going. You look at your buddy. Still crashing. You look at your donkey. Still a hot mess of waves coming at you. Then, amidst the furious waves, you hear the voice of God. 'Step in.' You giggle. You look to your buddy- utter fear. You look to your donkey- excessive urination. You look to the waves- more fierce than America's Next Top Model Cycle 6. God's serious. God wants you to step in. Only then will the waves subside.

So what's your call? Stand at the shore, or step into the abyss? Could your destiny really be one horrifying step away?

Startled.

'Life should be so startling that it leaves little time for anything else.'

Okay, so let's be real. Emily Dickinson was mildly creepy and totes reclusive. Ole girl probably isn't a role model for very many people, as far as living goes. But then she rocks out this incredible quote, claiming that life should be startling. Put that one in your pipe; are you startled by life?

Sometimes I'm startled. When the weather first became summery, I was stoked. I remember moments when I walked outside and was utterly shocked at the beauty of the weather. The sun seemed so much brighter than I remembered, and the heat grabbed my skin. I felt, like, ventilated. Like the world was passing through me and I through it. Creepy, but startling. Usually, however, I'm not startled. I go through my day to day, do what I have to do, and go home. It seems like our girl Em was surprised by the subtleties of life.

What if I really focused on things that should startle me? What if I really looked around, glancing at my issues and at the humdrum of life, but gazing at the things that I might usually take for granted. Whether it be a smile on someone's face or a pair of sunglasses or the shape of a rock... the sounds of an ice cream truck or a red-head or a beautiful poem, why can't I gaze at that until it startles me again? Why can't I let its message and beautiful permeate my soul? Why don't I set my mind on things that are good and noble, things that allow me glimpses of the nebulous and numinous divine?