Dancing on the Edge

(Now Playing: "The Balcony Scene" -- Pierce the Veil)

My favorite part:

Have you ever really danced on the edge?

Is something still scaring you?

Have you ever really danced on the edge?

The count of three is up

Have you ever really danced on the edge?

All right, then tell me so

Have you ever really danced on the edge?

Just hold my hand and jump

When I first heard this song, I just thought of it as a beautiful Romeo and Juliet reference.  But the more I listen to it, the more I am sure that it can be about any of us, whether we're falling in love (or out of love) with someone, facing life after college, or even stepping into a relationship with God.

It's asking, are we ready to jump into a scary, uncertain, beautiful new beginning?  Will we stop letting our fear get in the way of the trust we need to develop, the risks we need to take, the experiences we need to have?

...do we dare disturb the universe?

melancholy

the news of someone's death can grip you so suddenly.  it can chill the air around you, can leave you feeling hollow inside.

it can have this effect even when you shared only a few short conversations with that person, years ago.

*RIP Sgt. Garrett Misener.  And thank you for your service to our country.*

Questions Existing

how is it that you can show someone the door, watch them walk through it, but still feel that unwanted presence in every corner of the house?

how can you still be affected by the poison when the vaccine is coursing through your bloodstream?

how is it that you can take the initiative to cut the ties, to get rid of the puppet strings that have attached you to your problem for so long...and still be so easily controlled?

Chrome for a Cause

Google gets into the spirit of giving:  http://www.google.com/chrome/intl/en/p/cause/

Google Chrome users: Install the app, and every time you open a new tab between now and December 19th, Google will donate to 1 of 5 charities.  You can literally sit there and click "new tab" and the count will still go up.

Firefox and Safari users: stop what you're doing, install Google Chrome, and follow the instructions above.  After the 19th, feel free to go back to using your old browser, although I'm not sure why you'd want to.

IE users: dude, you seriously need to upgrade.  Like, seriously.

users of all those other random web browsers out there:  similar instructions apply.

I don't think I've ever felt this good about using the Internet/procrastinating on studying for my finals.

*disclaimer: Google definitely isn't paying me to put this on my blog.  Given the fact that I'm applying to med school soon, I kind of wish they were.*

The Fierce Flashmob

(DISCLAIMER: this is one of those hastily thrown together posts.  and it's also a touchy topic.  if i've said anything offensive in here, which i don't think i have but i guess you never know, someone tell me.  i also give a pretty simplified view of a very complex topic in this post, because i'm trying to get my thoughts out there quickly.  if you want to discuss it with me more, shoot me a message somewhere.)

an event by the name of The Fierce Flashmob happened in front of the Science Center today.  according to the emails that were circulated, its purpose was "to demonstrate the need for more LGBTQ resources at Harvard."  apparently, Harvard doesn't fund the Queer Resource Center on campus in any way--not even by paying its student staffers.

the issue of how to love the queer community on campus has come up quite a bit this semester--my Christian fellowship had a discussion about it a few weeks ago, and my friends and i have talked about it quite a bit.  so when i saw this event going on when I got out of class, it interested me.  a group of people stood on a fairly small patch of lawn, in a crudely roped-off area, holding rainbow-colored signs and moving to the music that was playing.  every time someone came to join them inside the roped-off area, they cheered and welcomed the person in.

i stood there watching them dance together, that colorful conglomerate, and i almost joined  them.

i've learned this semester that i should redefine the way i talk about same-sex attraction.  i've had one view put to me since i was little, and while i've chosen not to abandon that, i have chosen to be a bit more open.  

what i mean is simply this: no matter if we agree or disagree, we must remember that the people who identify with the queer community are just that--people.  by denying anyone access to housing or funding or whatever else because of your hangups about their sexual preference, you are treating him or her as less than human, and treating yourself as better than they are.*  and no matter what your stance is, you should agree that this is not ok.    

looking back over this post, and back over this topic and how i feel about it now, i realize that i should have had no problem with being a part of the Flashmob.  it would have been an act of love.

*things get a bit hairier when you discuss these things in relation to the church (as usual).  feel free to bounce ideas and opinions off me, but try not to get too technical because i'm not too well versed in the intellectual side of things.

Instrumental Paradox

(Now Playing: "Bright Morningstar" -- Tiesto)

I love how some musicians can sing so much meaning without using lyrics.

3Ni

wmh (Whipping My Hair)

(Now Playing: "Whip My Hair" -- Willow Smith)

I'll be honest.  When I first heard that Willow Smith came out with this song, I was skeptical.  I didn't know what would happen when I pushed play.

What happened was actually pretty amazing.  This song made me want to get up and dance.  And it made me wonder what I was doing with my life--I mean, this girl is 10 and she's already a huge hit; when I was 10 my mom was doing my hair, and I certainly wasn't whipping it back and forth afterward...I was playing with Pokemon cards and American Girl dolls.

Of course, with every new sensation, there's criticism.  Take for example this article from my school's newspaper.  The writer's rather blunt opinion is that a woman's hair is "one of the most obvious signifiers of female sexuality," and that by flaunting it in this song, Willow Smith is "introduced into the world as a sexual object, as a mini-adult."  When Smith sings "I whip it real hard" in the song, the writer of the article says, "the post-pubescent listener certainly isn't thinking about the singer's tresses."

First of all, as a post-pubescent listener, all I was thinking was that Willow was positively killing this song.  I hate that the writer of this article automatically assumed that I or any other listener would analyze (or maybe sexualize) the song or the music video like that.  I feel that this is a fun song with an underlying message of confidence and empowerment for young girls.  God knows girls her age--and shoot, my age too--need to hear that they're beautiful, that they shouldn't worry about what others think of them.  If you try to learn that later in life, it's so hard to get rid of the poison that bullies, the media, and other "haters" feed you.  Believe me, I know.

We've had quite a few examples of introduction into "mini-adulthood" in entertainment.  Take JoJo, for instance. While I love her song "Leave (Get Out)," let's be real.  She was what, 14 when this song came out?  14, and she was already singing about her boyfriend cheating on her?  That made me raise an eyebrow, definitely.  I'm not saying that things like that don't happen, but the content of the song definitely made JoJo seem older than she was.  Compared to this, a 10-year-old with tack-on nails and brightly colored clothes looks like nothing more than, well, a 10-year-old with tack-on nails and brightly colored clothes.

This song, or Willow Smith's hair for that matter, is not what makes her into a sexual object--for the most part, the listener does that.  Personally, I think she's "just tryna have fun," and I for one am not going to stop her--at least not until her curfew comes around.

Forever wmh,

>>3Ni<<

workahol

i can't say i'm addicted to this feeling.  more correctly, i don't want to.  because i'm afraid of what that means.

it means that everything i'm going through right now, all of the various stresses on my entire being, all of the things i say yes to, the 3am bedtimes and the 7am wake-up calls, the falling asleep on my textbooks and the inability to focus, the binding commitments and the rigidity, the perfectionism and the frustration...

it means that i like this life and i can't live without it.

near delirium personified

it's not just that i miss sleep.  don't get me wrong, i do.  at the most inopportune moments i find myself dreaming of his embrace, the intimate unconscious moments we share.

but i'll tell you what.  sleep misses me too.  i can feel it.

all day long, i can hear him calling to me, telling me--no, urging me--to come back to bed, to be his again.

most of the time, i resist, but now i think it's time to give him what he wants.

good night/morning,

>>3Ni<<

A Little Taste of Freedom

(Now Playing: "I Am Not My Hair" -- India.Arie)

earlier today, when it wasn't raining as furiously as it is now, i walked outside without covering my hair or using an umbrella.  only for a few minutes.  but those few minutes felt like the start of something good.

i'm sick of being bound by my hair, being the typical black girl who shies away from storms and sweat and water parks and swimming pools.  i honestly don't want that to be a part of my identity anymore.  my natural curls have too much potential to be forced into this straight, unnatural role they've been playing since i was little.

one of these days, old Press & Curl and i are going to part ways.  i'm going to hang up my rain scarf, let my hair down, and be free.

and it's going to be beautiful.

Just a Teenage Dream about Dynamite and Airplanes

(DISCLAIMER: this started out as a 2am post, so it's probably pretty rough.  and grammatically incorrect. enjoy it though. ^_______^)

since i got my ipod last Christmas, i've largely stopped listening to the radio.  but there are rare moments when i do tune in.  these moments are quite short, and i often regret them later.  why?  because of what i like to call "uber pop."

before continuing this rant i guess i should define the term.  what i call uber pop are the songs that have taken recent top 40 by storm.  they might be about blatantly shallow topics, like cheapened versions of love or physical attraction.  perhaps they reek of cheesy Hallmark-card rhymes.  maybe they involve autotune whose placement is not in the least strategic.  the accompanying music videos may make absolutely no sense but get all the hits on Youtube.  or maybe you find the songs largely pointless as a whole but still get stuck on them any given day of the week because they have a sickly saccharine sound.

now, don't get me wrong...i used to be as into top 40 as the next person.  and every now and then there's that pop song that gets caught in my head and i actually start to like it.  or the song that comes on at the party and i immediately say "i hate this song" and start dancing to it at the same time.

but let's be real.  in my opinion we're all victims of an uber pop epidemic.  i for one think the cure might involve a little lauryn hill.  they say she's coming back and i'm sitting here waiting as patiently as i can...

but anyway, with (so many) songs like "Take it Off" and "Telephone" out there right now, i feel like i could have hit it big when i was Willow Smith's age (slight tangent: i love "Whip My Hair."  the fact that i readily admit that probably completely contradicts this post, but hey...).  does it really take talent to drop tracks where singing (that isn't digitally altered) is optional?

thus ends my uber pop rant.  i'll step off the soap box and listen to some janelle monae for a while to cool off.

>>3Ni<<

P.S. if you haven't noticed, i love Skullcandy headphones. :-P

9/11

(Now Playing: "Hide and Seek" -- Imogen Heap*)

i still remember where i was when i got the news.  i was in 6th grade then, and i was getting ready for school just like any other day: eating some cereal, watching the today show...but then they started showing the footage of the second tower being hit, and i had no idea what was going on.  all i knew was it was crazy and scary and surreal, like those nightmares you can't remember the next morning, no matter how hard you try.

when i got to class, we didn't really learn anything.  we just talked about what we had seen.  there was a boy who claimed he'd get a gun and shoot osama bin laden one day.  we all thought he was an idiot then...but looking back, we were just 11, and we didn't know how to cope with something like this.

i still remember the strong and sometimes extreme since of patriotism that lingered after the ash had dissipated.  i remember the slight obsession with renaming american things that had other countries in their names.  in particular, i still kind of laugh at "freedom fries," even though they represent something that's not a laughing matter.  looking back, we were all just victims of an inexplicable act, trying to band together and pick up the pieces of collective shattered hearts and lives, and we didn't know how to cope with something like this.

since then, i've met a lot of people who were born on 9/11 of some other year.  sometimes i wonder if they still celebrated their birthdays that day, or if they even look at it the same way.

i think a lot of us just kind of forget about today.  it's something whose significance is on the tip of our tongues, but we often don't realize it until someone else brings it up.  i don't know if that means we've stopped caring.  but it's sad in any case, especially given how much we say "we shall never forget."

today should be sacred.  we shouldn't talk of burning korans or barring muslims from building a community center close to the world trade center site because it's "insensitive."  that kind of talk is what's really "insensitive," and it shows that we really have forgotten.  it's also, quite frankly, not the point of this day.  this day is one of many in which we should be praying, loving, working, helping others heal from these 9-year-old wounds.

*there's a minority of people who think "Hide and Seek" could be about 9/11, in addition to the many suggested meanings for this song (for example, the ones posted here).  i don't mind saying i belong to that minority.  in any case it's a beautifully cryptic masterpiece.*

time machine

looking back at old facebook posts and old forgotten diary pages makes me realize how much i've really grown up...even in the past two years.  i'll likely never be where i need to be...but at least i'm not that same little girl with the big mouth and the melodrama.

even small victories are a cause for celebration.  do you have something to shout about? :)

a magnum opus kind of day

i had a dream about a song i wrote, whose instrumentals lie incomplete at present.  for some reason, a cashier in some obscure check-out line had it playing on her mp3 player while she bagged my groceries.  it was largely finished, and it sounded perfect.  sadly, when i woke up and finally sat down at my computer, i couldn't

figure out for the life of me what it'd sounded like when i was asleep.

later, i revisited another old song project and worked on it for at least a couple hours.  it's coming together now, and i'm more than excited.  i have to wait until i'm in less close quarters to record the vocals, but what i do have feels beautiful.

it feels so good to create.

i could do this all day.

~random~

the sun's oppression makes for lethargic mornings and brains only half functional.  coherent thought is resting to escape the heat.  sigh.  the fans whir on my desk.  white noise, a part of the background, like the calm clacking of my roommate's computer keys.  pages turn.  i'm reading ulysses for reasons unknown.  i pause to look out the window at the blues and greens.  in a minute i'll be out there again, trying to satiate the animal desire for food and the human desire for fellowship. then the afternoon is mine.  laundry's piling up.  books to buy.  songs to finish.  sleep to catch up on.  ah sleep.  a power nap would be nice.  i laugh at now-invisible typos i've had to change since this post began.  i wonder why i even started this post.  it's anyone's guess.  i for one blame james joyce.  or perhaps the sun's oppression.  

Section 8 Blues

only writers live on this block.

they've been kicked out of glass houses and castles in the sky,
those privileged palaces where their only neighbors are peace and quiet.

laid off, fired, sent packing, 86'd,
eviction leads them to Hell's Kitchen
or perhaps its bookstore,
with thousands of self help texts
but no cure for their common diagnosis.

so they sulk on their stoops,
watching the new move-ins struggle
with their circumstance,
wishing their own homes could be comfortably cluttered
instead of neat, feng-shui'd, swept clean,
waiting for the word to become art
and dwell where it used to--
the fragments that hang around now
are too harsh to have over for dinner.

they wonder if inspiration can be FedEx'd to their location,
but there are no special deliveries;
the mailbox stands empty.

such is the toxicity of their city.

*Author's note: this is subject to change...feedback appreciated.*

pseudophilosophy

i'm starting to learn that even distractions have their place in the world...and, contrary to popular belief, they're not always on the wrong side of the good vs. evil dichotomy.

i don't really feel like elaborating.  i think you'll find out why on your own someday, if you haven't already.

>>3Ni<<

In All My Searching

(Now Playing: "Your Love is Extravagant" -- Casting Crowns)

In all my searching...

I have found perfectly inexplicable Love.  It permeates every part of me, every piece of life itself.

I have found the ultimate Muse, whose very Presence is inspiration.  One thought causes ten thousand songs, all perfect because they bear His Name.

I have found the blessed Hope of a place better than this, where He can embrace me for eternities on end.

I have found everything I've ever wanted, and things I never knew I needed.

In all my searching...I have found a Savior.

The Smoking Section

This was originally an old email I sent to the Christian fellowship I'm in on campus.  It was a Friday night, and we'd just had our weekly fellowship together.  One of the staff members and I had gone to the campus pub a little later to pass out flyers for an event we were having.

So I came back from the Battle of the Bands at Cambridge Queen's Head a little while ago.  Tina invited me to go there with her after an awesome and totally impromptu dorm storming session in Thayer to tell people about the outreach event next Friday.  While we were at the pub, we talked a little bit about how the people there (and there were A LOT of people there) should be individuals that we try to reach out to.

I've always felt like we (Christians in general) do a lot of talking about grassroots outreach...but tonight, we actually did some.

We had a whole lot of flyers with us, and we just went around and passed them out to people at the Battle of the Bands.  It was kind of awkward at first--imagine, tapping random strangers, who may or may not be somewhat inebriated, on the shoulder and giving them flyers about your Christian fellowship's outreach event--but eventually it didn't feel as weird.  For the most part, people seemed genuinely interested.  Some even asked me what the event was all about.  I did see one paper airplane on the floor on the way out...but thankfully that response seemed to be the exception, not the rule.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is...we can have these wonderful talks about evangelism all semester long...but when are we actually going to give out our flyers instead of collecting them in our rooms?  I'll be totally real with you guys, I DEFINITELY wouldn't have gone dorm storming or pub-pubbing (haha) by myself, but after being with everyone tonight, one thing sort of led to another in this crazy, spontaneous chain reaction of sorts.  Neil Cole said in his book Organic Church, "If you want to win this world to Christ, you are going to have to sit in thesmoking section."  We shouldn't be afraid to do that; I mean, it's the Great Commission in plain sight.  Of course actually GOING to the smoking (or drinking) sections of life and talking about Jesus to total strangers is really hard to do (reading over that just now was a little bit scary), but it's definitely something to think about.   

I prayed tonight that what was said in large group would actually leave theroom with us...and this is how God answered.  It might be worth it to actively explore all of what was said tonight further.  

Recess

my thoughts
are playing
leapfrog
on the track
that is my mind
one over
the other
in rapid
succession
they run around in
circles screaming
tagyoureit
i'm dizzy with their
frolicking fervor
losing focus
on the hereandnow
faster and faster
their laughter spells
disaster
for any peace
i thought
could permeate
my person
while they're
at recess
i'm trying to
get bedrest
i need
a timeout
from all of this
madness

of Carpenters and Kings

i sat nervously
at my station
watching the others work
we had been told
to build our best
in preparation for
the Master's coming

others had constructed crowns
and sculpted stately thrones
were still working
to make them perfect

i had finished long before
my piece was small
nothing special
a basin
its wood not known for beauty
i had barely been able
to mend the crack it bore
i wondered doubtfully
about its worth

at last the Master Carpenter came
all tools ceased their movement
in the hands of the students
from where i sat
i could
see the others
their countenances confident
praise for their pieces imminent

but the Master beheld
their crowns
their scepters
their thrones
in silence
walked past them
without a word

and my heart sank
because i knew
that mine was the least of these

but when the Master
reached my station
he held out his weathered hands
and accepted my piece
when i offered it to him

as i watched
his fingers
caressed the crack
in the basin
and his face broke
into a quiet smile

he inquired
about the purpose
intended for the piece
i replied
that it was made
only to wash feet

the Master Carpenter nodded
turning the basin over
in his hands once more
placing it back on my station

before he turned away
he looked deep into my eyes
smiled and whispered

Well Done

Jericho Road

i had nothing to lose
no standing with
the ones who passed him by
there were no promises
writ for me in the
ancient scrolls
whose words they ritualized

but what of the man
beaten and discarded
by the dusty road?

blood disguised his features
yet i knew he was of Jerusalem.

i saw men of God's temple there
treat him like a dying dog
disowning their
brother in the faith their
peculiar purity at stake

but i had nothing to lose
a Samaritan low as a slave
so i walked where
the priest and the Levite would not
stretched out my hand
to help him as a friend
i had supplies for his wounds
an animal for him to ride
and money for a quiet inn nearby

and as i left him
in the innkeeper's care
i marveled at the day's events:

i had nothing to lose
but i gained something great

say my name

if you've ever wondered about the title of my blog, gather 'round and i'll tell you a story.

i think Eni first came about when i was in middle school.  at that time, i was writing "stories," "poems," and "songs" fairly frequently.  i put those in quotation marks because in retrospect i'm not sure if the organized chaos i scribbled down back then could pass for any of those things.  in any case, i enjoyed writing; "author" was pretty high up on my possible career list.  because of this, i thought it would be cool to come up with a pseudonym.

the search was on for the perfect pen name.  i don't remember how long the brainstorming process took, or what some of the names that didn't make it were.  all i know is one day the lightbulb came on.  i recalled reading some stories by Avi throughout school (for example, "What Do Fish Have to Do with Anything," which i only remember because of the catchy title).  i always thought his name was kind of neat.  yes, it only had three letters, but something made "Avi" much more aesthetically appealing to me than O'Henry or Mark Twain ever were. 

the more i thought about it, the more a three-letter pseudonym started to sound like a great idea for me too.  that probably makes me somewhat of a copycat, but i'll be honest...almost all of my "creative" ideas back in the day were "inspired" by something else that already existed.  anyway, once i realized that my initials made a pronounceable name, Eni was born.

Eni's about 9 years old now, which makes me feel pretty ancient.  i've recently updated the name to 3Ni to reflect my semi-fascination with leet (no, i wasn't thinking of Ke$ha at the time), but i've never messed with the general idea.  Eni/3Ni has not and will never refer to some alter-ego, nor will it ever officially replace my real name (although according to my birth certificate i did spend the first 4 years of my life with a slightly different first name than i have now...).  it's nothing more than a pseudonym...nothing less than all of me. 

thanks for listening.

with love,

~* 3Ni *~

3Ni arrives...[Radio (Declaration)]

I'm a poet by nature, but I also write songs periodically.  Every time I write a song, I wish I could put the lyrics to music instead of having them silent on the page (I do have a dream of dropping an album, after all)...

This summer I FINALLY got to fool around with the lyrics to one of those songs.  And this is the result.

Radio (Declaration) (if the link doesn't work, someone let me know).

~A little disclaimer: I'm not a pro.  I did all the instrumentals, vocals, and effects on my computer, using free (or free-ish) software.  So the quality isn't amazing.~

Please let me know if you like it, or if you hate it, or if you're indifferent.  I like to hear (read: see) what you all think.  I know you read what I write (I just installed the Stats thing on the dashboard, so I can tell*).  But I never know what you guys and gals are thinking about.

At any rate, these are baby steps.  Just know that if you ever go on iTunes and see something by 3Ni (or Eni), chances are it's yours truly.  Unless someone steals my name. :-P

*by the way, I'd like to send a HUGE shout-out and thank you to my followers (the faithful few), and people who read/have read my blog in other countries.  y'all are amazing. :)

left my fear by the side of the road...

"All I Need is You" by Hillsong United is on repeat right now.  i just kind of clicked to this song tonight because the first line popped into my head earlier.  it's really a great song; it starts out in a minor key that makes a shiver run down my spine...but that's beside the point.

anyway, this song got me thinking about some very important things.

i've been reading "Every Young Woman's Battle" by Shannon Ethridge.  yes, the book is about sex and abstinence and all those things, but i've recently noticed that's not all it's about.

in one of the earlier chapters, Ethridge dispels myths about relationships that many girls buy into.  one such myth is that a girl needs a significant other to feel complete and happy.  Ethridge's answer to the myth is that all we truly need is God--only our Creator can complete us.

i'm not sure if i've fallen into the "i NEED a guy to be happy" trap in quite some time.  i've learned/am starting to learn that if that were a need, God would have given it to me (Philippians 4:19).

but let's be real...i could fill in the blank--"i NEED ________ to be happy"--with a lot of things.  i won't go into them here, but i know i'm not the only one who feels this way.  any one of us could pick any number of things to complete the sentence.

here's a question, though...how many times has GOD filled that blank? 

for most Christians, He probably does subconciously.  it's something like how we can recite some Bible verses with our eyes closed and in one breath--sure, we have some scripture memorized...but does it actually mean something in that moment that we recite it?  do we believe those words?  or have we just remembered them from Vacation Bible School?

as this song plays over for the umpteenth time, as the refrain--all i need is You, Lord--permeates my being...i'm starting to realize how much i've been forgetting those simple, dynamic words.

they're so much more than words.

this song is so much more than chords and instruments and lyrics....

this is a love song of commitment to God, wedding vows that His bride the church has prepared.  

this is simultaneous submission and praise.

these words...should be the anthem of our lives.

Naïveté

she picks petals off daisies
playing that timeless trap of a game
as if "he loves me" doesn't fall
on every odd number

she chases after clouds
ignoring that cliche number nine
because eight and three quarters
is enough to be happy

she looks to the sky
uttering that age-old nighttime rhyme
if only she'd realize
those shooting stars are just airplanes

Spontaneity

Life for me is using purple pen
When all the others write in blue or black.
It's playing jazz runs on the violin
When the world over says it can't be done.
It's jaywalking across an empty street
Instead of waiting for the light to change--

A poem in iambic feet when I
would shun such structures any other day.

Rumination

standing face to face with the past.  wanting it to crumble.

wishing i could take back things i said, things i let happen.  missing the way things were before i decided to be honest, before i opened that box of constant, quiet horrors--snapping the lid in the process so it stands forever open, allowing the ghosts inside to do what they will.

wanting those cloudy, reminiscent days to fade...

knowing they probably never will.

AURAL AMBROSiA

sweet symphony of one

your music carries
throughout this place

i am surrounded by beauty
the invisible beats
too blissful to articulate

my ears tingle with delight

& i never want to hear
the final chord

i am a disciple
of your sound
faithfully following
every crescendo

(Ode)

you
systematically
dissect my nerves
urging me to
convey you in words

i create pages worth
of script in my mind
rehearsing chance encounters
so they'll run smoothly
stealing glances because
stares seem strange
fantasizing freely

(we are two
our hands
intertwined
my heart
blissfully feeble
your eyes
beautiful misfortune)

i awaken with this
dream's sweet song
on my lips
in perfect harmony i cry:
unlikely muse,
allow me
to immortalize
you.

2nd Grade

We took scissors
to the frayed threads on our sneakers
listened mouth agape
when our classmate told us
he drank mercury once
caught crickets at recess
and fed them to the teacher's pet rosie
entered the names of our enemies into oregon trail
and laughed when they caught cholera
played with patches the rat
despite his sharp teeth.

We were fresh out of diapers and fearless,
smart because things were simple,
and the promise of candy
could solve every problem.

The Clinic

Wednesday, June 16, 2010; 1:15 pm

the smell of sterility
hangs in the air
(cleanliness is kin to
a Christlike life).

hustle and bustle
grow weary of work
(the lunch hour comes
like the eye of some storm).

there's a stillness that encompasses
the clacking keys and creaking doors.

but here throughout these halls
a trace of laughter is heard;
gratitude covers the place
like dew gracing the grass
even now, when exam rooms
stand empty until the next shift starts.

~dedicated to the Church Health Center~

I Have Decided

give me the Choice--

to frolic in fleeting pleasures,
frantically searching for satiation;
or to bask in the Light
of Unseen Father and Son,
calmly and completely at peace.

give me a Chance--

to fulfill carnal
desires one by one;
or to thank the One
who saw past them
straight to my soul.

i Choose to be free--

to lift my chains,
my face to the sky
and love Him who holds the key.

are we there yet?

my eyes are fixed on the
continuous color of asphalt.
st. christopher gives visions of
destinations the horizon hides.
weary of backseat driving,
i quietly contemplate the deep
philosophical meaning of
bumper stickers on the
backs of passing cars,
resisting the urge to utter
those four timeless words.

Salt

skeletons like boomerangs--
coming back
water wells up inside--
can't hold it in
amnesia would be bliss--
it can't be mine
out of sight, out of mind--
but only then

drought

i feel like it's been months since i've written a poem and sat back (almost) fully pleased with the conclusion my hand and heart came to.

i thought maybe college was sapping my inspiration.  

as summer starts and i'm back home, i really hope i was onto something there.

i think i'm in love...

i want music to be my muse.

here's 2 cents. buy yourself something Nice.

why this obsession with finger-pointing-name-calling-mayhem-and-discord?

correct me if i'm wrong, but that's never been real love.

Winthrop brought the Straus Cup home again. I had a victory of my own.

This afternoon, it was so easy to be myself.  To be around people and not succumb to the process of fading into the woodwork.  To laugh with (in)complete strangers, to have conversations about Throptalk and trumpet fanfares (or lack thereof), to be loud and crazy and witty and free.

Why can't it be like that all the time?

Internal Conflict (B-side)

the dust has cleared and confusion has dissipated.

the impending decision lay before me / the life i knew and loved lay behind me.

i had two choices.  i could stay where i was, be happy where i was.  run in the same circles i've been used to.  or i could leave that behind to follow after what a FatherUnseen has desired for me.  an uncertain path, stretched out to OnlyHeKnowsWhere..

i stood in the middle, feeling saddened to the nth / knowing what the eventual choice would be.

here i am, a little bit later.  i've packed up said my goodbyes and i've begun this Journey started walking toward this existence the FatherUnseen wants me to chase.

&i'm learning every day that Listening to HisVoice is the hardestmostnecessary thing we must do in the land of the living.

in the presence of Royalty

Some people got together and set up a prayer room in Winthrop.  They had a 72 hour prayer event, in which people signed up for 30 minute shifts to pray in the room.  Or you could just come in when you felt the need.

I chose the latter option today after lunch.  I'd kept putting off going up there, and since I had another hour plus before my next class, I didn't have an excuse.

After spending a few moments to look around the room, I had to fall to my knees.  The Spirit that flowed through the place compelled me to pray.  The words formed themselves in my mind so easily.

Something about the signs instructing people to take off their shoes (I would argue that the place where I stood was holy ground), the blankets on the floor, the soft worship music playing, the prayers and verses written on the papers covering the walls...was just powerful.

God was in that place. I was in the presence of royalty.

silver and gold

i'm starting to realize how much i can learn from being wrong.

i've spent a lot of time being silent.  for example, in class i don't answer questions.  sometimes, it's because i'm unprepared.  most of the time, it's because i'm afraid of being completely off the mark.

i'm writing this in lab, where we just finished going over the answers to some problems.  it's mostly open discussion; we have time to answer the assigned questions on our own, and then we go over them as a group.  i usually sit quietly and listen to the others give answers; this time, i decided to offer my own explanation...but i was incorrect.  honestly, it was a little embarrassing.

eventually, i realized my error.  and something occurred to me in that moment: silence may be golden...but sometimes silver looks better than gold.

i hate that it took me almost 14 years of school to understand this.

Nostalgia

i miss the days
of amisarewaswere
and anecdotes
about the places a
mouse could hide.

Want to get away with infidelity?

There's an app for that.

http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/offbeat/2010/03/01/moos.tiger.text.cnn?hpt=C2

Cheaters rejoice.  Apple has you in mind.  Now "acting like you're faithful" when you're really creeping and sleeping around is a little bit easier.

I'm sure there are some practical uses for this...but let's be honest...it's highly likely that people will use this to give into temptation that much quicker.

The days of "When in doubt, don't" are taking their leave.  "What he doesn't know won't hurt him" and "She'll never find out" have shown up at the door of society, and they plan to stay awhile.

I'm no model of morality, but I have a feeling that "Anything goes" should stop here, before we leave our virtues behind.

Found this appropriate.

...the little purse 

of your Catullus is full of cobwebs.

                                                                     ~Catullus, Poem 13

Brevitas

<1 am>

too tired to close my eyes.

a zombie alive writes a pitiful rhyme.

Recession

she writes me IOUs and promises to pay up soon

tells me, I’ve turned my pockets inside out
broke my piggy bank and looked under the couch
but I'll have something next week, no doubt.

when it comes to excuses, she’s a millionaire
but that kind of money won’t help my welfare.

Train Station

(November 25, 2009)

i sit with my

back against a wall

following passengers' shoes

across the floors

as if i could see their

hearts through their 

soles at peace with the 

outofmyway

aura about this place

and the dust bunnies that dance

reels around my 

luggage i count the hours

before my destination

and find that

wherelivescollide

there's never a dull moment.

I must confess...

i am madly, deeply in love.

You have shown me that You are all that i need.  i keep forgetting just how much You care.  i keep forgetting how close You truly are to every part of me.  but i don't want to forget that again.

i like the warmth of Your embrace, the way that feeling You feels.  it's not like any other human closeness.  it starts from my heart and moves to the rest of me.  to be honest, i think it's unusual.  completely, utterly, beautifully unusual.

my heart has been taken advantage of on more than one occasion.  sometimes it's hard to open up, hard to be truthful, for fear of rejection or whatever else might come about.  but You easily break down those walls, the fortress that i've tried to build.  You leave me vulnerable...but then You stand by as protection.

i give You the key to my heart.  because i know You won't abuse the privilege of knowing me on such a level.

Jesus, i love You.

Sincerely...

miracle in Haiti

there are reasons to rejoice, even under the conglomerate heap of rubble-chaos-sorrow that at the moment exists in Haiti.

i saw on the news a couple of days ago that while sifting through it all, rescuers found a small child.  she had survived--by herself--for 3 days before they got to her.

in my heart, i named this girl Miracle.

i believe she will grow healthy and strong, and that she will one day tell her story to anyone who needs to hear it.

there are little miracles everywhere, but they're hard to find.

if you don't see them at first, it doesn't mean they don't exist.

even if all you see is an aftermath of fear and darkness...you have to keep digging.

never give up hope.

interesting...

in Bible study tonight, we talked about Israel and its surrounding regions.  the pastor pointed out the Jordan River on the map and told us about how it was the last river the Israelites had to cross before reaching the Promised Land.  someone mentioned a Negro spiritual which includes the lines

Oh, wasn't that a wide river

River of Jordan, Lord,

Wide river

There's one more river to cross. 

she asked if the two instances were related.

the pastor responded that they did share some similarities.  he talked about how the Israelites were freed from bondage and, because of their disobedience, wandered in the wilderness for 40 years until they finally crossed the river and reached Canaan.

the stories of the Israelites and of African Americans are even more similar than many consider.

we were "freed" in the 19th century, at least in part.  but it's apparent in this day and age that we are a lost people.  instead of turning to God like we should, some of us turn to BET, drugs, sex, slang, and pointless rap.  we're wandering, looking for the right, even though it's all around us.

and we can't find our Promised Land until we open our eyes.    

Internal Conflict

imagine giving up something you love...for something you can't see.

i'm locked in a debate.  on the surface, the solution seems simple, but beneath the to be or not to be that is, there lies a question of morality that some choose not to understand.

right now, i think i know the answer.  it's one i never thought i'd have to come to, but the spinner of fate dictates that i look at the matter more closely, with eyes that see like his.  that always makes the unlikely answers seem more correct.

as i further prepare to leave contentment for the unknown, i wonder if it'll still seem this clear.