More haikus written in class

Penguins like to dance
sporadically dancing
Brr! Antarctica.


Sitting in the class
listening to faithful prayer
God, I'm so tired.


The trapeze artist
in flight fears fatal falls but,
still kisses the sky.


These next three are all together

Sin invades the heart
and the man may choose to hide
but, God still sees him.

Sleep evades the man
while he devises plans
in the deepest dark.

Plans quiet the man
who quakes in a sleepless night
who can know his heart?

I wrote all of these about three weeks ago maybe longer. But, it was fun. I was sitting in class completely unengaged and it helped me think a little more clearly. That was a good day.

Random Haiku Poems

The wind sails swift
while autumnal leaves fall slow
winter is coming

Birds fly quickly by
though uncertainty also
evades the hunter

Fish never want air
but man needs precious water
who catches who, huh?

(for fans of 'The Office')
The best bears are black
battlestar galactica
FALSE! Brown bears eat beets

Baseball games won late
encourage the rowdy fans
to take taxis home

A bag of chips crushed
tastes always the same as a
bag thats uncrushed

Nova Scotians are
characteristically
kind in November.

Oranges are the
sweetest in a snowstorm's rage
though pears like the rain

A new post

I wrote this the day after Valentines Day but, it doesn't anything to do with romantic love or a lack of romantic love.


A Heartache (Don't worry it's the good kind)

Sometimes in this aching heart,
I wonder if I've done my part, because
I understand that the world goes on without me,
but then I wonder how it is that I've seen.
Good things on this planet dwell,
when everyone says that it's gone to hell.
I think there, then has been some hyperbole
and it gets to the point where others can't see.
That this all still belongs to the Father
and it's easier to believe this rather
than thinking that nearly all is lost
when in reality we've never felt the cost.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm addicted to rhyming
it is very clear that this is the timing
to get up and then get moving
listen to the Word and then find a soothing
from the Son in his infinite love.
Let your past be a reminder and
not something that will hinder
the progress that you'll be sure to make
while your heart, in anticipation aches.

No time for creativity

Sometimes i feel as though the easiest thing to do is also the hardest.
i am not myself but perhaps i am more myself than ever before.
i miss people but i am so easily and willingly detached from them.

So I ponder the latest un-original thought and try to pass it off as my ingenuity.
careless, i trample over dreams and delights of others to satisfy a selfish desire.
Wrapped; both delicatly and tightly, up in me.
I would like to think better of myself but, I am thief, unworthy.
I take without contributing and waste more than I use.
But not to you, though. I am not these things at all.
I come accepting this need as oppossed to my ever present want.
For oddly my desire is the same as yours but I only go about it in the wrong and disgraceful manner.
You go about the same want but you chase it on an upright and just path.
if it were not for the upright and just path you were able to follow I would've had nothing to strive for.
which makes the path i follow seem dark and disgusting.
the path you follow seems easy, is it really that easy or have you been practicing on it for a long enough time.
because there were things that i was once good at but i had practiced them for a very long time. But now they seem gray and faded and worthless to me now. What a waste.
To see those things now as boring and pointless would have astonished the younger me.
Vanity and pride are not just things inside they're there for anyone who chooses to see.
I have a problem and it is evident to me now. hollow shell break, and let me free to know and experience things previously unknown and give way so that legs now made limber can dance a different dance unseen by anyone before.

These are not my thoughts: Part 1

This is a poem I wrote in the Prayer Chapel and when I was done writing it, I looked it over and I literally said, "What the hell, do I really think this?" And after prayer, some much needed self-examination, and reading the Bible, I said, "No, these are not my thoughts!", so thus the title. The poem is pretty straight-forward.

I wonder. I plunder. I kill. I steal.
Tell any lie I can, so I can make a deal.
I cheat. I swindle. I skim from the top.
Everything I think I need. And everything I want.
I think there is a problem here, but you know,
I'd rather be blind.
Than trying to count my sorrows and wasting
my minutes crying.
There is actually a simple bliss
that can only occur in selfishness.
I'll close my eyes and cover my ears
live in the darkness but, live without fear.
Not because I serve something of great significance
but, rather because I choose to live in ignorance.
If I choose to shun the light,
it is possible, I just might.
Escape the judgment that I feel,
done by those who claim they're real.

Untitled Poem

I wrote this March/April of 2008, I was really upset with how all my efforts to serve God seemed so futile. This poem was written because I needed encouragement in my walk with Christ and wasn't finding. I thought about what I would tell someone who needed the kind of help I needed and this is what happened. It get's kind of preachy here and there.

Hope was not attained by one, so I
Dropped to my knees, I became his son.
Please become his lovely daughter,
A truly righteous and beautiful follower.
Answers come to those who seek,
Humble your heart and become meek.
We want these things we should not have,
Submit your desires fully to his plan.

Holiness sought is holiness gained
give to Him all your pain
put it in a box
at the foot of the cross... and leave it there.

If pain is something that's entangled
cut it out, so you're not strangled
to death,
take in His life-giving breath.

Cut out the branches of that deceitful vine,
throw them in the fire and leave them behind.

Jesus Said,

"I am the True Vine and you are the branches",
so I'll praise him with shouts and praise with dances.

Be fruitful and grow
or to the fire you will go.



Special Note: The 'lovely daughter' line was not about any woman in particular.

The Wood-pecker Doesn't Fly Far From the Tree

I sit and listen, you're mocking me,
high above in that old, birch tree.
thinking that you're safe because I don't have wings to get up there.
All you do is bore away at that tree in hopes that you'll find food.
so I guess in reality, I pity you.
Cause just like you're banking on the hope that I can't reach you and harm you.
You're also hoping that you'll find a place to stay and something to eat and that efforts in this day were not in vain.
And that you've found a place to call home. You've found home, so in the other hand, I am jealous and the scales have been tipped in your favor.
The allusion of home is merely an illusion in my mind.
Like Jenny, I pray that I could be like a bird and fly far, far away from here. It is not that here is bad but, I want to leave before it gets harder.
Pulled this direction then the other.
High in the birch you don't have to worry about the lack of direction, you were made to follow the wind.
You have it easy.
I was made to follow God...

...So I guess I don't need to worry about directions.

first post. The poem is titled one-fifty-one

Before I get to the poem, I'm just going to let you know that every thing on here is going to be about a year or more old, just so that I've had proper time to look everything over and maybe edit (I kind of wince when I say the word edit).

So now for a little introduction, I wrote this almost a year ago for the class Psalms and put this together for the final project. It's pretty straight forward.


one-fifty-one


O Lord God, my wretched heart aches for you.
Your beauty, once loved and admired has left me.
I have been painted red in the blood of my transgressions.
My acquantances judge me and their hatred lies heavy on my back.
I am crushed under a boulder in my guilt.
My friends refuse me and pity glances through pious eyes.
They speak against me with razors.
My cheek is cut by a kiss.
They speak against me terrible, filthy, and degrading TRUTH.

O Lord, they are right. Your Spirit is gone and I am a corpse.
I am full of decay. My breath smells of death.
I remember the days when breath was fresh and new.
Lord breathe in to me renewed, clean, breath and clean this heart.
You hear my requests, yet you refuse to come to my aid.
Despite your absence, you, are Merciful God
and I choose to seek you for you're different,
efficient, and willing to break my heart.