Sabbath

Perhaps it's the gentle balance of heart-warming vantages and the bone-chilling breeze
or the lively aroma of the shedding trees
or the crackling of steps through untrodden leaves.

Maybe it's the couples along the river-walk with hands held tight
or the spider's network of labor nearly hidden from sight
or the geese in the park preparing for their flight.

Whatever it is that makes it so neat,
I'm sure today that nothing could beat
This slow walk through the fall on Spring Street.

Ulysses

Josh Garrels is singing my soul again. These lyrics are from his song Ulysses from his newest album Love, War, and The Sea In Between. The album is free, so I obviously recommend that you pick it up (here). Ulysses is in my playlist for the blog, so I also recommend that you listen to it while you read along.

Ulysses

I'm holding on to hope that one day this could be made right.

I've been shipwrecked and left for dead

and I have seen the darkest sights.

Everyone I've loved seems like a stranger in the night

But oh my heart still burns

tells me to return

and search the fading light.

I'm sailing home to you I won't be long.

By the light of moon I will press on

until

I find

my love.

Trouble has beset my ways, and wicked winds have blown.

Sirens call my name, they say they'll ease my pain then break me on the stones

But true love is the burden that will carry me back home

Carry me with the

memories of the

beauty I have known

I'm sailing home to you, I won't be long

By the light of moon, I will press on

SO TIE ME TO THE MAST OF THIS OLD SHIP AND POINT ME HOME

BEFORE I LOSE THE ONE I LOVE, BEFORE MY CHANCE IS GONE

I WANT TO HOLD

HER IN

MY ARMS

(emphasis mine)

Giraffes With Headbands

These are giraffes with headbands. Just a little something I was working on. I tried to find a picture of them online, but the entire first page of Google images didn't have one, therefore I assumed that it did not exist. So I made my own.

That aside, I'm not really sure what else to share. I've been writing some poetry and some other stuff. I've been inspired by the idea of storytelling in poetry as opposed to my typical modus operandi of puzzle-making. Instead of trying to encrypt my feelings into a linguistic and thematic puzzle, I've been trying to tell a story with what I feel. There's still a lot of the old puzzle-making remnants lying around, but I can see a difference in my writing. Can you?

Industry

I hear the whistle as the train comes 'round the bend.

Industry, machinery, toiling to no end.

Wheels turn, fires burn life to death to fuel the machine.

With blinders on, we work to claim what we've never seen.

With no true goal, we strive to see beyond our sight.

But some remove the blinders and in mystery delight.

And there find the life they've been burning all along:

Sight turns to art, confusion to joy, and sound into a song.

But with hammer I keep striking at my cold, dead life.

And here, before You now, life strikes back.

I'm down, out, KO'd, knocked out by life's first punch.

There, between the live I've always wanted and the death I've always feared,

There I will live.

Or how about this one?

Butterfly

There's a butterfly on the palm of my hand

It tickles but I hope it stays

I can't use that hand now

But I think I like it best that way

I remember when it landed there

It was too good to be true

And ever since I've been fighting

I want to grasp, squeeze, and hold it

So that it won't fly away

But my most tender grasp will kill its life

So I can only embrace it with open hand