9. Ashville, North Carolina

Hello, and long time no see!

I am comforted in the fact that no one reads this, because then no one cares that I do not update. :) This next poem is written in the middle of the night, when I cannot sleep. If it is not good, I blame that! (Shh...let me believe what I want.) The theme is Ashville, NC, which I have never been too. However it is home to the Cove, the Samaritan's Purse retreat center where they train people in Disaster Relief.

I would like to work for this organization, so to me Ashville is a city of hope for my future.

But right now, I don't have a future. I am currently unable to discern my calling. I have no idea what I will be doing. The most frustrating question I get is, "If you could do anything, regardless of money and education, what would it be?"

Because my honest answer is: I DON'T KNOW.

How do you follow a dream you have never heard?

If the Way Were Mine
3/14/12

I hear you ask,

What does your future hold?

And I seethe.

Little town in the mountains,

So much of my hope dwells in you.

Like Zion to the Israelites,

So am I promised to you.

Or am I?

Hark, as the noonday sun

Settles high in the bright red sky.

Will I come to you, will you be there,

Will I find my peace in you?

What does your future hold?

Where would I go, if the way were mine,

Would you come along side and stay?

Were it mine to say, I would grow wings,

And like a bird fly away in the sky.

I am without wings.

I would call the trees my dwelling place,

And live among the clouds.

And I would watch the whole world spin,

If the way were mine to choose.

I am without dreams.

I would drink the beauty of creation,

And leave grace where the garden marred.

I would go where I pleased, feel what I need,

And be one among the atmosphere.

If the way were mine to choose.

But you, little town,

Must be my own.

For I am not a bird.

I am not my own.

8. Psalms

Hello!

This Psalm was hard for me to write. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I am a Christian and I spend a lot of time reading the Bible.  So I am quite familiar with Psalms. I didn't want to just force myself to write a psalm, so I decided to just wait. And eventually, I came to the point where God put these words on my heart. 

The psalms are incredible because they are rich with emotion and passion. Its the intimate picture of the image of true worship. I took so long to write this poem because I wanted to wait until I had such an intimate moment with God myself, so that my feeling would be real. 

I hope you enjoy!

Desolate Heart

9/30/2011

My head hurts, lack of water.

So I drink my tears instead of rain.

My soul grows dark and decrepit,

Gnarled trees and choking dust

Penetrate the flesh of my beating heart.

The sky is more black than blue,

The wind more burning than relieving.

Auguries of bitterness wing their way inside,

Perching in the shadows of my contempt.

And pulsating with sickly blood cells,

I rake my nails across the ruined soil.

And feel in my palms the depth of my loss.

My irises fade from black to white

Soulless, empty, and astray.

O Lord, you hold my heartbeats,

O God, you see my pain.

Deliver me from my own distress,

Untangle me from my sinful self.

Stretch out your hand against my iniquity,

And shed your light upon the dark forest

That has taken up residence inside my soul.

Satisfy my thirst with your Holy word,

And engulf my heart with your mighty flood.

For I would rather drown in you

Than live in the drought of myself.

Cut off my enemy—my misguided self

And walk me through the shadows of death.

Behold, I come before you, make me whole again.

7. Thunderstorms

I don't like this one. :( I just have nothing better. I wrote this at the end of July, but nothing has better has come. So here is number 7. 

Thunderstorm

8/29/11

When the storm is coming

I can feel it in the air.

The breath in my lungs turns sour

With the heat drumming into the day.

The sunlight secretes humidity,

So I require gills to breathe.

It grasps at my hair and pulls it around,

And sticks to my furrowed brow.

And it takes me around the throat,

And forces me to lie still on the earth,

As the anger of Nature fills up the sky

And builds its potential rage.

And then it all falls,

First the pressure, then the rain.

And the wind makes its way

As the thunderstorm breaks.

6. Cold Mountain, North Carolina

Hello again!

This poem is not really about Cold Mountain, North Carolina because I have never been there. However, I did a lot of research about the place and determined that it was a lot like the mountains that I am currently residing in, which would be the Blue Ridge mountains around Goshen, Virginia. So this poem was truly inspired by Goshen, though I did throw in a mention to Cold Mountain. (See if you catch it. :) )

I'm not sure how I feel about this poem, but I don't know how to make it better. So please enjoy it and leave a good critique.

Cold Mountain

8/2/2011

The trees here echo

With the cacophony

Of ten thousand cicadas

And locusts.

The world is lush and green,

And scorching hot in the summer,

Despite the ironic name.

And I drip from moments

Like dew dousing the leaves,

Settling in the heat of the day.

I pull the stars over me at night

To keep myself warm from darkness,

And fall asleep to the Whip-poor-wills.

And my sigh will rustle leaves,

As I breathe deep the musty decay

That accompanies rotting foliage.

And I will piece myself together

In the reflection of rain-stained pools,

As I contemplate my mountain,

And what it is I hide.

5. South by Southwest

Hello again!

This poem is a different style than I normally write, so I'm not sure how I feel about it. When I googled South By Southwest I learned it was a music festival in Austin, so I intended to try and write about something like that.

But the first thing I thought of when I heard this title was the desert, and before I knew it this poem came out. I really like it, even though I strayed from my usual style. I hope you enjoy it, as well.

Just For One Night

7/16/11

Just for one night,

Let me fall asleep

To the gentle rhythm

Of desert rain.

To the hiss of liquid

Greeting the earth

Which has missed it so long.

Let my eyes close around

The night kissing the sun

Goodbye.

Let my skin crack in the sun,

Like a snake, as I drink life from its

Solar light.

Let my breath become ragged,

As the dust steals the air

From my lungs.

Let my memories puddle

Like an oasis hidden

By empty mirages.

Just for one night,

Let my tears dry

My heart fall

My body break

And my bones disintegrate,

Until I become one

With the sand.

4. Tenuous

I have not forgotten you! I have been away at Boy Scout camp since the beginning of June, and I have been working on these poems in my sparse spare time. 

Now, onto Tenuous. This theme came at a perfect time because I feel rather Tenuous. I had intended to write a fourth stanza, but one month later and I still can't find the words, so I guess this poem just doesn't want to budge anymore. Its rather dreary, but I was in a bit of a dreary mood when it was written.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Tenuous

 7/7/11

Like lead that seeps into my mind,

And weighs my body down.

Dragging my breath away from me

And carving away my crown.

I let my strength evaporate,

While crawling with my shame.

I cannot stand to reason here

Against my holy name.

And my bones will turn to brittle

As I think myself away.

While uselessly I rationalize

My excuses to decay.

3. Pulchritude

Hello! It has been a while since my last post, but I have been busy! I work at a camp in the summer and the work and internet have been difficult. I wrote this last week but just now finishied the editing.

I had never heard of Pulchritude before, so this was a fun poem to work with. Pulchritude means physical beauty, so I based this poem on a proverb that reads, "Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord should be praised!" 

So here is my Pulchritude. Enjoy!

Wilted

6/14/11

She stains her lips with regret,

A crimson color for tonight.

Velvet—like rose petals—

Once used to whisper praise.

Clothed in silk and treachery,

She walks on needles, purposefully.

She seeks to dazzle like the stars,

But diamonds will suffice for now.

She dabs her skin so nervously,

Cursing God, who gave her freckles.

Hoping that soil will cover her shame,

Grave digging for sake of complexion.

But the looking glass tells no soothing lies,

Her listless secrets lying awake inside.

Her soul buried deep within pulchritude,

She can’t help flinch as her eyes shine through.

Her charm seduces emphatically,

As her beauty threatens to waver.

But her spirit clashes violently

With the spirit that compels her.

And she will drink the night away,

And dance her feelings high,

But deep within her attitude,

A little child sits and cries.