"The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."
~ Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms



"Our lives disconnect and reconnect, we move on, and later we may touch one another, again bounce away. This is the felt shape of a human life, neither simply linear nor wholly disjunctive nor endlessly bifurcating, but rather this bouncey sequence of bumping into's and tumblings apart."
~ Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet



Tuesday, March 11, 2014

One Word

(Say Something - A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera)



I am looking for answers I am afraid to find
To questions I am afraid to ask
Searching for an explanation
Searching for one word

Yes...one word

One word to explain everything
One word to bring clarity
Is your name the one word
Is your mothers name the one word

Is the word
Is any word
Merely a mask
A veil of letters
I am running now after nothing
Into the night that ends
And begins and ends and begins

Yes...into it I run

Flailing my arms
Lungs burning
Mind racing
One word
Where is it
Where are you

Leaving always leaving
People leave like trains or planes
Your heart expands for a lover
Expands and contracts
You bleed for her love
You search for one word to make her stay

One word again
The bloody evasive one word
There is no word to make anyone stay

So she goes

And the wind blows
Through leafless trees
Creaking in its laughter

The word is in a rain drop
But which one
There are so many rain drops
No way to look into them all

Will you help
Oh...you are gone already

I sit alone
In the forest
In the city
On a street corner
On a log by a stream
Scenery changes

But not I

I was searching
While your hand slipped out of mine
Before I could kiss you
Before I could make love to you
Maybe in making love

The word
The one word

Would be uttered
A sacred word
A tantric word
To free spirits in the night
Trapped in their own freedom

Not free
Never free

For the word is never spoken
Not even between lovers
Masquerading as truth
Lust lifts lost souls out of the mire
Only to be lost again
And again and again

This is no noble quest
This is a fantasy in search of meaning
In search of a word
In search of an interpreter
A sanguine metaphor
Folly and vanity
Vanity and folly

We pretend and act and parade
We play house and then betray ourselves
Leaving our damaged images behind
Collateral damage of our insatiable passions

To wonder why
To wonder how
To search for the one word

The one word

To make sense of their fractured lives
So where are you
So far from me
So distant
In the past and forgotten
A dream from two nights ago
A dream I forgot
As soon as I woke up
The sun bleaching my memory

No artifact
No fossil
No fragment of our time

The moments stretched into years
Forgotten in a garbage dump of fears
A wasteland of consequence
An aborted rendezvous
What word could have I sputtered

What word
What word
What one word
If I screamed it
Whispered it
Wrote it
Sang it

No

No word stands against vile actions
Recriminations and resentments stacked and counted before bed
Kindling for fire fights
Napalm induced rage
Scorching our bodies
I want you to stay my love
My new love
The love I am afraid of
(I am afraid of any love now)
The scars healed over
The scabs no longer picked at
Calloused and cold are my veins
I barely feel myself anymore

I am numb

I am drowning in myself
Suffocating on the very elixirs which are to make me okay
Downing my white oblong friends each morning

So I can sit

Without pondering Camus's question
Hamlet's soliloquy
Alphabet soup
Words and words and words

Ah Macbeth perhaps
All sound and fury
Ah yes - sound and fury
Signifying what
What indeed
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing

We look and search and quest
With Don Quixote
Battling ferocious monsters
Only to be told
Windmills are innocuous
Seeing a mirage
For nothing doesn't cast a shadow
Only broken hearts do
In the noon day sun

One word
One word
One word


 

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Dream...



Dream...
Of the beauty of humanity fully alive
Together in a sea of belonging

Dream...
Of life larger, grander and exquisite
All more so than we ever allowed our imaginations to believe

Dream...
Of being unmanaged, uncontrolled and unequal in possibility
The fusion of horizons

Dream...
Of creating unfettered
Abundant in spirit, passion and love

Dream...

 

Monday, February 10, 2014

Will You?

Will you confiscate me?

In the night
While a star falls into the sea

In the desert
While the sun breaks over the horizon

(While our hearts are beating in the silence)

In the oasis
While the droplets of dew roll over our skin

In my bed
While you are wrapped around me

Will you confiscate me?

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Soft

 

(Sunday Afternoon ~ Two Harbors)
I am scared
I tremble

(Get weak and sigh)

In absence
There is presence
A gentle softness

(To settle)

My lost soul

 

Saturday, February 8, 2014

The Emptying...

(Pacem In Terris)
I want to make love to
Your mind

I want to warm my body with
Your imagination

Exploring all the parts of your truth
Entering your thoughts
Mimicking the churning sea
With echoing memories
Ecstatic swirling ideas

Until

We are emptied into each other
One being in creative energy

Only quieted
By the climax
Of our

Art

 

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Within A Story

 

Paris Cafe ~ 2011

 

 

We are living within a story we are not responsible for


Within the story

We create

We act


We are and we become

We are being

In being we think

In thinking we are aware

We choose our lines

Our lines are ours


(Our responsibility - inclusion and omission)


In our time

In the story

Our lines ripple


Bleeding and bouncing and bifurcating

Ink stains on blank pages


Lines into lines

Lines upon lines

Lines within lines


We are living within a story we are not responsible for

 

Monday, February 3, 2014

How To Keep Going by Caitlyn Siehl

(Internet Sourced & Edited)

Make sure you own a nice bed.
Sleep in it frequently.
Remember how nice it feels to flip over your pillow to the cooler side.

Check your pulse and hum along to the rhythm because it is music.
Write clear and make a lot of spelling errors. Get the poison out and don’t worry about it being neat.

If you can, do not shut people out. You will have good days and they should see them.
If you feel overwhelmed, go outside and scream. Find a nice empty park in the middle of the 
night and scream as loud as you can until your throat is bleeding. The world wants to hear you.
Let yourself fall in love. Believe it or not, there are people out there who want your blacks 
and blues.
Keep waking up.

Keep waking up.

Keep waking up. Maybe with someone next to you.


 

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Rain In The Lies

  
I am in love with beginnings
apprehensive of middles
frightened of endings
in liminal space

I am dreaming old dreams
waking to empty drinks
the smell of gin
the taste of red wine

I am paying the cost
to the piper in my head
the loan shark in my heart
the pauper in my soul

I am traveling on a cold night
on the backs of giants
in empty rail cars
on soles covered with mud

I am still alive
i feel the blood in my veins
i hear the ache in the words
i smell the rain in the lies

 

Prophets, Poets, Voices and Songs...

This evening as I was looking at my newsfeed on Facebook I noticed my friend Cathleen Falsani Possley posted a link with words from Leonard Sweet and she suggested reading all of Leonard's words before reading the article.

This is what he wrote:

I just found out Pete Seeger died yesterday. Is there a church in the US that hasn't heard these Seeger songs sung in its sanctuary? "Where Have All the Flowers Gone," "Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season)" and "If I Had a Hammer." Back in 2006 Eugene Peterson was interviewed about his friendship with Bono, but spent a great deal of the time talking about Pete Seeger's impact on his life and faith. When asked, "Have any popular musicians acted as prophets in your life?" he replied: "Probably the most pervasive one in my life is Pete Seeger. I think he's a prophet. I very much doubt whether he would call himself a Christian, but he spoke truth and called attention to the things the Christian faith is committed to in a way that nobody else could do during his time."

When asked what Seeger "called attention to," Peterson responded, "Social justice issues, economic things, racial issues, peace....But he was doing this, and continues to do it -- he's done it all his life -- not in ways that the Christian church wasn't doing it, but he was getting the ear of people who would never go to church, and maybe of a lot of those who do go to church because they hadn't heard it from their own pulpits."

Seeger coined a phrase: "Bible Libel." It described those who profess to live by the Bible, but whose lives libel their lips. I thank God today for Pete Seeger, and his celebration of the common life, the common good, and the common people.

And then he posted this link: http://www.atu2.com/news/bonos-prophetic-vox.html which speaks to the prophetic voice of musicians with thoughts from Eugene Peterson and Walter Bruegermann.

Much in this article I believe is germane to the conversation about prophets and the prophetic voice today and it cemented in my mind the place and significance of the prophetic voice in music - in Pete Seeger, Bono (U2) and Bruce Springsteen.

Bruce Springsteen before singing his song, The Ghost of Tom Joad (the character taken from Steinbeck's, Grapes of Wrath) on Seeger's 90th birthday said this, "At age 90, he remains a stealth dagger through the heart of our country's illusions about itself. Pete Seeger still sings all the verses all the time, and he reminds us of our immense failures as well as shining a light toward our better angels and the horizon where the country we've imagined and hold dear we hope awaits us."

Here is the full introduction:

 

And here is The Ghost of Tom Joad performance:

 

In the article, Bono's Prophetic Vox (http://www.atu2.com/news/bonos-prophetic-vox.html) Scott Calhoun writes, "The appreciation goes both ways, Peterson said. He's thankful for U2's remarkable work of spreading a message, calling people to forsake lives of selfish pursuits fueled by destructive delusions. In U2's songs, he hears the sound of truth and love. Peterson can hear, when Bono sings, the voice of the prophet in pop culture."

He continues:

In the foreword to Raewynne J. Whiteley and Beth Maynard's, Get Up Off Your Knees, Preaching the U2 Catalog, Peterson wrote:

"Is U2 a prophetic voice? I rather think so. And many of my friends think so. If they do not explicitly proclaim the Kingdom, they certainly prepare the way for that proclamation in much the same way that John the Baptist prepared the way for the kerygma of Jesus...Amos crafted poems, Jeremiah wept sermons, Isaiah alternately rebuked and comforted, Ezekiel did street theater. U2 writes songs and goes on tour, singing them."

Eugene Peterson comments:

Well, I don't know the world of rock and roll music at all, but songs like "Peace on Earth" and "Yahweh," I can't believe they could anticipate that people would like those songs. [The lyrics] are words that I use in the pulpit and classroom, not the common vocabulary of the extra-church crowd. But they are used in such a way, said and sung, so that their meaning is conveyed in a way that reveals their truth: they commune and not just communicate, they evoke a responsive intimacy that can't be extracted from a dictionary. This is what art does, it gets beneath or within essential aspects of our lives.

Peterson then quotes Brueggeman, "So I've used the word prophet for them. Walter Brueggemann describes prophets as uncredentialed spokesmen for God. Well, I think that fits them pretty well. They don't have any authority in the world of faith."

I believe the same could be said for Seeger and Springsteen. Their lyrics are infused with biblical imagery, creatively re-authoring, interpreting, imagining and remembering while energized with authenticity and commitment.

Again Peterson,

Maybe we shouldn't even be asking prophets questions. They are asking questions of us. Maybe the question we ask should be, "Is God using these words, this stance, to say something to me, to my society, to my neighborhood?" A prophet, almost by definition, doesn't fit into the categories you expect, which is what gives them bite, and clarity, and the sense of grabbing us by the scruff of our neck, and saying, "Listen to this: this is truth, this is what's going on." The whole authority of prophets comes not from what people say about them or the credentials that they have, it's from the truth of what they are saying. This is true of the Biblical prophets and of prophetic voices all through history. Often prophets use the name God but sometimes they don't. It is interesting to reflect that no Hebrew prophet ever was referred to as "messiah," but the pagan Persian king Cyrus was. God used him in what I would refer to as a prophetic way to free the Hebrews from their exile and return them to their homeland, but Cyrus had no idea that he was issuing edicts under the sovereignty of God. It is my job as a pastor and professor to speak the name of Jesus and proclaim the news of the gospel into whatever reality the prophets expose and call attention to. If they also do it, that's fine, but if they don't that doesn't mean that they aren't speaking/acting on God's behalf.


This I think is great by Peterson:

Prophets don't have anything that Christ hasn't given them. Some of them find a vocation that is apart from the visible Church, maybe by accident or maybe deliberately or maybe not intentionally. But they are following the Spirit in some unarticulated way.

Sometimes I think God has to find a person who isn't carrying a lot of baggage or bad religion with them. John the Baptist, for example, where did he come from? He didn't fit the categories of the first century. And that happens over and over and over again. Simone Weil, the French woman who sometimes called herself an atheist, was a very prophetic voice in a time when prophetic voices were very rare in France.

 

I believe there is a lot going on here and God moves how she wants to move and does what she wants to do and speaks in ways she wants to speak. I haven't processed all this or formulated the words to articulate what I think all this means. It will take more thinking, meditating, silence and poetry.

 

U2 performing Yahweh and 40 (lyrics from Psalm 40):

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Sharing The Dark...Nightminds

(Nightminds - Missy Higgins)

Perilous lonely chaos
Fractured and interrupted
By blessed moments
Of silent calm

Sharing the dark

Life bifurcated on a razors edge
Walking on a tightrope
With cut feet
Slicing reality in two

With precarious steps

On
Blood stained
Cold titanium steel

 

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Journals

 

                  
A year is a dream
The places
The faces
Lost memory
Journal filled pages
Coffee stained stories

 

Soul

 

 

I want to make love to your soul

While your eyes watch
While your body trembles
While your mind wonders
While your heart ponders
While your voice whispers

(Why...)

Why did this take so long

(So long...)

So long to feel alive

To...breathe
....curl toes
...bite a lower lip
...clinch cotten sheets
...smell the morning dew

I want your soul to exhale

 

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Tangerine Twilight

Shadows dance on pale skin
Tangerine twilight
Splintered lunar curve of a neck

Dangling earring resting in the crest
Coagulated desire shimmering through translucent eyes
Blinding suitors to love’s gaze
Pulling bodies like the tide to her

Looking not for love but something deeper
Earthy
Tangibly experienced in the soil of being

With head cradled in her hand
Writing in the flowing strokes of unconscious becoming
The movements of life on fragrantly scented blank pages
The story of life in the manuscript of time

 

Monday, January 13, 2014

Dasein

 
Do you want to create with me?
Do you want to imagine what is sublime?
Do you want to interpret dasein?
Do you want to find out what is real?

What is true?
What can be grasped and not let go of?

(Find the pearl of great price and sell everything to hold it)

Poor but happy
Free but not alone
Hold hands and smile
Walk barefoot on the earth

(Know what was lost and how we found it again together)

Smell oceans
Taste wine
Read books

(Make music while the sun descends)

Become art
Beauty infused with love
On the canvas of experience

 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

This Day

I still remember this day
I will always remember this day
You were so much a part of my life

You still are
At a distance now
A reflection in a pool of water

I see you in the eyes of our children
I feel you in the memories in my heart
I still remember this day

 

We Were Lost


I am sorry

Forgive me


I was lost

In a dark night

I walked past you


In daylight I turned around

Retraced my steps

But found

Only our faded tracks in the dirt

Where we passed in the blackness


In searching I found nothing

In reaching I fell

Love evaporated with the morning mist

A season in the same forest

Together forever alone


We were lost


Forgive me

I am sorry

 

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Lines of Reality

"What if what you do to survive

Kills the things you love..."

~ Bruce Springsteen, Devils and Dust


"In the fields of the lord

Stood Abel and Cain

Cain slew Abel 'neath the black rain

At night he couldn't stand the guilt or the blame

So he gave it a name..."

~ Bruce Springsteen, Gave It A Name


To seep between the lines of reality

To fall into the crevice of time

To bleed translucent imagination

Cutting creativity to its core and eviscerating knowledge

Until it disintegrates and its edifice crumbles into the sea of being


The interpretation of Babel

Strewn in hermeneutical squalor

Muted string of maligned words

Meaning languishing in mumbled syllables

To know Babel is to know the infinite ineffable silence

In which, “…all things are permissible…”

Nothing not known by humanity, “…nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.”


So now...

Forever tumbling in the architect’s maze of epistemological black holes


(It is here we die)


In the search

On the journey

For truth on the cartography of our consciousness and unconsciousness

Uncharted collective uncertainty

 

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Words...


“I want to watch your mouth move as you talk to me
That’s all I ever want from the people I love
Flowers are good and all
But moving mouths mean so much more
When they are moving in front of my eyes
And sometimes people are like poison
And their teeth are the things that hold on to you
For years and years
And no matter how much you move and bend
And shake and cry out
They never let you go.
My father once said that all people are strangers
Until they write words to each other
Or look at each other from across a crowded train
Or bus
Or street
And we wrote words to each other
The first words were ‘hi’
And ‘how are you’
Nothing big but they were
Big
To me
If it is true that sometimes
People are like poison
Then it must also be true
That sometimes people
Are like holy water
Not the kind that lives in churches
No
The kind that live in puddles
Or kettle ponds or lakes
Or sometimes rivers
The constant flow never ends
The love will never cease to be
It all just moves
And moves
And moves
Back where it came from
Back into the ocean.
~ “for c”- esperanza friel