LIES LIES
go away
don't come back
another day
stop beating hard
on my tin roof
leaking through
my rubber boots
I'm packing and leaving
and drying off
my soul
Truth is
where I'm going
and
I just thought
you should know
Friday, April 29, 2011
God
I am afraid to open
up again.
I am a flower
not daring to bud
needing to be hidden by the cool earth
Afraid my petals will be dull
with other flowers more
beautiful than I
catching the eyes
telling me to fall back
should i stay closed
calculate and repose
and risk my arms never
stretching
never giving what is
given.
should i open tall
and eat the sun
beckoning?
will i be beautiful?
or be cast away again
a weak weed
not worthy of poet's gaze
and writer's mussings
I am afraid to open
up again.
I am a flower
not daring to bud
needing to be hidden by the cool earth
Afraid my petals will be dull
with other flowers more
beautiful than I
catching the eyes
telling me to fall back
should i stay closed
calculate and repose
and risk my arms never
stretching
never giving what is
given.
should i open tall
and eat the sun
beckoning?
will i be beautiful?
or be cast away again
a weak weed
not worthy of poet's gaze
and writer's mussings
Treasures from Lesson Planning
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. ~Sylvia Plath
There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. ~Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith
I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all. ~Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977
What I like in a good author is not what he says, but what he whispers. ~Logan Pearsall Smith, "All Trivia," Afterthoughts, 1931
The wastebasket is a writer's best friend. ~Isaac Bashevis Singer
The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov
Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ~Anton Chekhov
Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne
(ahh...blast from the past)
I think it's bad to talk about one's present work, for it spoils something at the root of the creative act. It discharges the tension. ~Norman Mailer
The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes. ~André Gide, Journals, 1894
Every author in some way portrays himself in his works, even if it be against his will. ~Goethe
There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. ~Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith
I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all. ~Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977
What I like in a good author is not what he says, but what he whispers. ~Logan Pearsall Smith, "All Trivia," Afterthoughts, 1931
The wastebasket is a writer's best friend. ~Isaac Bashevis Singer
The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov
Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ~Anton Chekhov
Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne
(ahh...blast from the past)
I think it's bad to talk about one's present work, for it spoils something at the root of the creative act. It discharges the tension. ~Norman Mailer
The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes. ~André Gide, Journals, 1894
Every author in some way portrays himself in his works, even if it be against his will. ~Goethe
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Psalm 90
wow God.. Thank you for showing me this
Lord you have been our dwelling place in all generations
before the mountains were born or you gave birth to the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting YOU ARE GOD.
You turn man back into DUST and say "Return O children of men."
For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it passes by, or as a watch in the night.
You have swept them away like a flood, they fall asleep; in the morning they are like grass which sprouts anew; toward evening it fades and withers away.
For we have been consumed by your anger
and by your wrath we have been dismayed.
You have placed our iniquities before you
Our secret sins in the LIGHT of your presence.
For all our days have declined in your fury,
we have finished our YEARS like a SIGH.
As for the days of our life they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength eighty years,
Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow;
For soon it is gone and we FLY away
Who understands the power of your anger
and your fury according to the
FEAR THAT IS DUE TO YOU?
So teach us to number our days
that we may present to you
a heart of WISDOM
Do return O Lord;
How long will it be?
And be sorry for your servants
O satisfy us in the morning with
Your LOVINGKINDNESS
That we may sing for joy and be glad ALL our days.
Make us glad according to the days you have afflicted us
and the years we have seen evil.
Let your work appear to your servants
And your MAJESTY to their children.
Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us;
And confirm the work of our hands;
YES CONFIRM THE WORK OF OUR HANDS.
Lord you have been our dwelling place in all generations
before the mountains were born or you gave birth to the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting YOU ARE GOD.
You turn man back into DUST and say "Return O children of men."
For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it passes by, or as a watch in the night.
You have swept them away like a flood, they fall asleep; in the morning they are like grass which sprouts anew; toward evening it fades and withers away.
For we have been consumed by your anger
and by your wrath we have been dismayed.
You have placed our iniquities before you
Our secret sins in the LIGHT of your presence.
For all our days have declined in your fury,
we have finished our YEARS like a SIGH.
As for the days of our life they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength eighty years,
Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow;
For soon it is gone and we FLY away
Who understands the power of your anger
and your fury according to the
FEAR THAT IS DUE TO YOU?
So teach us to number our days
that we may present to you
a heart of WISDOM
Do return O Lord;
How long will it be?
And be sorry for your servants
O satisfy us in the morning with
Your LOVINGKINDNESS
That we may sing for joy and be glad ALL our days.
Make us glad according to the days you have afflicted us
and the years we have seen evil.
Let your work appear to your servants
And your MAJESTY to their children.
Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us;
And confirm the work of our hands;
YES CONFIRM THE WORK OF OUR HANDS.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Posetev Is How Mi Live
The rasta emerges from deh bush
shakes dem dreads and walks
past you
barefoot on the the brown clay.
The children play
barefoot too
running on cobblestone pink roofs
take in the sea breeze
sweet and salt
pick a hibiscus hold it close to yo mout.
drink some ginger root
join da calypso tracks
and sway yo back.
"we goin down ta Sunny Isle mehson
to chill dem sum time
yall wanna come?"
"Chupps"...grab ya some ice and sum wada ids hot
en dis herr sun
mehson.
Wer yo walk down dem tick road
let dem worrys die.
it had been no fun
anyways
driven in daht high life.
Ima walk
barefoot
where mi fada grew.
down in dah bush
St. Croix wit mi crew
shakes dem dreads and walks
past you
barefoot on the the brown clay.
The children play
barefoot too
running on cobblestone pink roofs
take in the sea breeze
sweet and salt
pick a hibiscus hold it close to yo mout.
drink some ginger root
join da calypso tracks
and sway yo back.
"we goin down ta Sunny Isle mehson
to chill dem sum time
yall wanna come?"
"Chupps"...grab ya some ice and sum wada ids hot
en dis herr sun
mehson.
Wer yo walk down dem tick road
let dem worrys die.
it had been no fun
anyways
driven in daht high life.
Ima walk
barefoot
where mi fada grew.
down in dah bush
St. Croix wit mi crew
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Rev-evaluating the heart of writing
Coming around again
running in the circle again
You showed me clear
I write for me
I go to write
to feel and breathe
and hide
and cry...
but your ears
when your ears..
when your arms
were waiting for me!
more than my pen
more than my ruffed up
tuffed up
journal
tough paper that can not speak.
as Henry died, Hemingway wrote
He regretted all the things he could never pen again
memories and stories thrown up in smoke.
He died in despair because his immortal flame
died within him and did not live on in words
but do i not live on through you?
Let my only regret be i didn't give my words to you!
words attached to my heart
which you bought.
They were given and I used them
to build a safe place for myself
I see it
melting down by waves.
So I take my pen to the rock again
and ill give it back to You
to build.
don't stop Lord
don't stop writing in me.
Write in me
so I can write back
to You.
running in the circle again
You showed me clear
I write for me
I go to write
to feel and breathe
and hide
and cry...
but your ears
when your ears..
when your arms
were waiting for me!
more than my pen
more than my ruffed up
tuffed up
journal
tough paper that can not speak.
as Henry died, Hemingway wrote
He regretted all the things he could never pen again
memories and stories thrown up in smoke.
He died in despair because his immortal flame
died within him and did not live on in words
but do i not live on through you?
Let my only regret be i didn't give my words to you!
words attached to my heart
which you bought.
They were given and I used them
to build a safe place for myself
I see it
melting down by waves.
So I take my pen to the rock again
and ill give it back to You
to build.
don't stop Lord
don't stop writing in me.
Write in me
so I can write back
to You.
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