fingerpainting words

This is one of the joys of this blog. I never expected to be someone with a blog. Ever. But then I was. Really, that's all there is to that story. But this week I was reading Tandaina and Sophia (who has recently taken what I hope will be a break from her blog)'s commments about Flimsy Words. And then I wrote this.

Finger-painting words
spreading them around
feeling their consistency
between my fingers
watery
chalky
lumpy
smooth
thick dark words
watery rich words
lumpy bright words that won't flow together
smooth crystalline words
color
viscosity
free to feel
to soak them through myself
until my fingers are dyed and
I need water
water that I may start again

written 11/28/07
With thanks to both Tandaina and Sophia.

Words on Fire

The problems of the world are many and complex. There is no simple solution. But there are simple places to start. Or at least to start thinking.




Found at Snow on Roses, who occasionally posts amazingly beautiful poetry. (sidebar link to come)

Normal life

Thanksgiving, it's important, both as a holiday and as an attitude. So tomorrow I'm eating Thanksgiving dinner, the traditional turkey with all the fixings, with friends who are family. But right now, this is about some of the things I'm grateful for....


Tears of Life
A life so normal
it could hardly be mine
school, work, friends
guilt trips to call home more often
No one's dying and
everyone's crying
the normal tears of life
_____paying rent
_____buying food
_____do they like me?
_____you'll never believe what they did
_____the deadline is coming
_____the meeting is tomorrow
_____I'm moving
_____you're leaving
How beautiful life is
when the challenges are
The normal tears of life

written 5/19/07

Flimsy Words

You know those times when what is being said in the conversation goes right past the other person?
The break-through moments when you realize that the friend you thought you were arguing with was just using a different word?
All of the words we have are amazing, and powerful, and tricky. Because they are also flimsy and tough to hold on to or pass around.

Flimsy Words
These flimsy words,
struggling to create pale imitations
at best
of the truth we know and love
truth of who I am
of who you are
truth of the world around us both
truth of Truth itself

These flimsy words,
created, imbued with meaning
barely able to hold together
building blocks of smoke and mist
paints of mist
but we have so little choice

These flimsy words
the only bridge
which may yet bind
you and I, mind to mind

Written 6/17/07

Changes

The coincidence here is kind of fun. Changes all over the place.
First, the housekeeping (blog-keeping?) announcement: I've shifted this blog over into a new email. It's still my writing, at the same url, just a new email address. Not that I've ever been deluged by email, but for the interested parties, you can email me through the profile link, or the next time you use the 'old' email, I'll reply through the new address. Much like the change in the template, I just wanted something a little more 'me' and something that could make more sense if I decided to become a bigger presence in the blogosphere.
Onto the poem. Which is also about change, though more types of change....
Which is appropriate on so many levels.

Resurrection

phoenix flies
into a bush the
flames then consume
until
ashes coat the
ground and the embers
cool, then, then
does phoenix arise
whole, fresh, alive
past to repeat
rebirth

not resurrection

Resurrection is
blood on wooden cross
final shaky words spoken
with final breath
the dark empty night followed
by darkened day
and emptier tomb

Resurrection is
startled gasp that
first Easter morn
half fear and half
hope
body remade
life made wholly different
future newly promised

Written 11/4/07

Because I needed the reminder...

Originally posted August 17, 2007.
I really needed this reminder today. It has just been one of those days, you know. The "if it fit on the back of my hand I might scribe it there, in permanent ink" sort of day.

What blasphemy is this,
that we are all as much of God as we ever see?
What divinity leaves divine image
to peer around our sins and shortcomings?
Divine knowledge hidden behind our ignorance?
Divine compassion buried within us?
How can we not quail when we realize
the full weight of who we are meant to become?
Doomed to fail and destined to try,
We are not enough to represent the One who made All—
We cannot even love that One with appropriate love.
But who else is there?
For better and for worse, we are all we know of;
All who can share this one great secret:
We are beloved.

And Blasphemy it is: For we are not enough,
Not enough to be even pale reflections of that love,
The Love that loves us,
The Love that keeps us,
And the Love that sends us out,
to love one another.

Written October 10, 2006