Darling, O Infatuation
Caught in your clichéd spell
A well-framed look, a splitting smile
My give-away, my tell
The moment I am free of you
Again you catch my eye
And whisper every honeyed word
With lips I can't deny
Darling, O Infatuation
How useless to protest
With heart and soul and mind so charmed
By the fruits of your unyielding quest
How laundered is this heart of mine
Sewn, sleeve after sleeve
Yet you take me arm in arm once more
And tempt me to believe
That darling, O Infatuation
This time you'll follow through
And lead me to a love divine,
Patient, faithful and true.
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Thursday, 14 June 2012
Saturday, 4 February 2012
Quill
For some in my field the rhythm and rhyme of a turned phrase comes out naturally in even metre;
Measure for measure the language of melody and whistle-whispered tune of a thought is laid down
Neatly: as notes are planted in the rows of a staff so are the petals and pedals
And knots and naughts and oughts picked up from their stray places by the storyteller's quill.
This field of mine is old; it is a fertile land and well maintained, though it may seem unruly at first
Glance: a short story goes to seed and delicate white tufts of the idea escape their native land on the breeze;
A poem blooms like cherry; the novel climbs like ivy; the devil's paintbrush spatters the landscape
With conflict and convict and red and read and read as it dances through time and its tenses.
It is a beautiful place, my field. It is so full of imagination, half-opened ideas and words chasing words
That whir and purr and prowl and prance and dance around and around each spark-of-a-memory tree
So I sit in the meadow and open my mind to its floral stimulus and each enchanting colour that fills
Me: happy and quiet, paper in pocket, pen in hand... trying to join the artists.
Measure for measure the language of melody and whistle-whispered tune of a thought is laid down
Neatly: as notes are planted in the rows of a staff so are the petals and pedals
And knots and naughts and oughts picked up from their stray places by the storyteller's quill.
This field of mine is old; it is a fertile land and well maintained, though it may seem unruly at first
Glance: a short story goes to seed and delicate white tufts of the idea escape their native land on the breeze;
A poem blooms like cherry; the novel climbs like ivy; the devil's paintbrush spatters the landscape
With conflict and convict and red and read and read as it dances through time and its tenses.
It is a beautiful place, my field. It is so full of imagination, half-opened ideas and words chasing words
That whir and purr and prowl and prance and dance around and around each spark-of-a-memory tree
So I sit in the meadow and open my mind to its floral stimulus and each enchanting colour that fills
Me: happy and quiet, paper in pocket, pen in hand... trying to join the artists.
Sunday, 10 January 2010
Heart in Hand
I scrape out my heart, and cup it in my hands
Please, won’t somebody take it?
I look down at the blood, the emotion, the ache
Won’t somebody take it from me?
It beats so loudly, it longs to be known
Won’t somebody take it from me?
It cannot keep still, yet it withers alone
Please, somebody, take it.
I stand on the street with my beat up old heart
Tattered by years of distress
I hold it out in the light to the men who pass by
But each one refuses my best.
“I know it looks rough.” I choke back the tears.
“But this broken heart can love.”
Yet one after the next, they walk by and scoff.
Please, tell me I am enough.
Each day it grows darker like meat at a market,
Colder and harder inside...
No wonder they pass by and divert their eyes
And no one will take it from me.
I drop to the ground and lean back to a wall.
My heart feels dead in my hands.
As pulseless as stone, as worthless as ice
As shattered and sharp as glass.
“I will take it,” he said. “I want to take it from you.”
I look up with death in my eyes.
A man. He looks down at my shredded, gray heart
And stretches out his hand.
I scramble up to my feet and hold my heart out
“Please!” I beg, “Take it from me!”
“What is the price for this heart?” he asks.
“Nothing, just love, just love...”
His eyes grow heavy in memory of sorrow.
“No, not nothing,” he said.
“But it was paid for by Great, Incredible Love.”
And again reaches out his hand.
There was already blood on his palm.
Each finger stained.
Dark red scars wrapped up the length of his arm.
And his eyes... His eyes...
He cupped his hands over mine and
My heart lept. It was newborn:
No hardness, no bruises, no cuts, no gray.
Reborn, both tender and strong.
“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you;
I will remove your heart of stone
And give you a heart of flesh,” He said slowly.
“And I will put my Spirit in you.”
He did not take my heart – He filled it.
He planted it back in my chest
And sealed it there, with Love I can’t understand
And he held my hands.
“Your heart is exceedingly precious to me.
Do not give it away.
It is filled with My Love, and that you must share,
Openly, every day.
“But your heart as a whole is mine to keep
And mine is shared with you
So do not fear, but rejoice and draw near.
Because you have got work to do.”
And His Spirit remains, holding my heart in hand
And His eyes watch over me.
As I move through my life I will share out His Love
That fills and overflows my soul.
My hands are now empty and lifted to Jesus
The replacer and healer of hearts.
They are Yours as I am Yours, stained with Your Love.
Use me. Fill me. Take me.
Please, won’t somebody take it?
I look down at the blood, the emotion, the ache
Won’t somebody take it from me?
It beats so loudly, it longs to be known
Won’t somebody take it from me?
It cannot keep still, yet it withers alone
Please, somebody, take it.
I stand on the street with my beat up old heart
Tattered by years of distress
I hold it out in the light to the men who pass by
But each one refuses my best.
“I know it looks rough.” I choke back the tears.
“But this broken heart can love.”
Yet one after the next, they walk by and scoff.
Please, tell me I am enough.
Each day it grows darker like meat at a market,
Colder and harder inside...
No wonder they pass by and divert their eyes
And no one will take it from me.
I drop to the ground and lean back to a wall.
My heart feels dead in my hands.
As pulseless as stone, as worthless as ice
As shattered and sharp as glass.
“I will take it,” he said. “I want to take it from you.”
I look up with death in my eyes.
A man. He looks down at my shredded, gray heart
And stretches out his hand.
I scramble up to my feet and hold my heart out
“Please!” I beg, “Take it from me!”
“What is the price for this heart?” he asks.
“Nothing, just love, just love...”
His eyes grow heavy in memory of sorrow.
“No, not nothing,” he said.
“But it was paid for by Great, Incredible Love.”
And again reaches out his hand.
There was already blood on his palm.
Each finger stained.
Dark red scars wrapped up the length of his arm.
And his eyes... His eyes...
He cupped his hands over mine and
My heart lept. It was newborn:
No hardness, no bruises, no cuts, no gray.
Reborn, both tender and strong.
“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you;
I will remove your heart of stone
And give you a heart of flesh,” He said slowly.
“And I will put my Spirit in you.”
He did not take my heart – He filled it.
He planted it back in my chest
And sealed it there, with Love I can’t understand
And he held my hands.
“Your heart is exceedingly precious to me.
Do not give it away.
It is filled with My Love, and that you must share,
Openly, every day.
“But your heart as a whole is mine to keep
And mine is shared with you
So do not fear, but rejoice and draw near.
Because you have got work to do.”
And His Spirit remains, holding my heart in hand
And His eyes watch over me.
As I move through my life I will share out His Love
That fills and overflows my soul.
My hands are now empty and lifted to Jesus
The replacer and healer of hearts.
They are Yours as I am Yours, stained with Your Love.
Use me. Fill me. Take me.
Saturday, 3 October 2009
To the Light
Lead me to the Light
When I’m too blind to follow
Take me to the Place
Where for myself I cannot go
Lead me to the Light
I need out of this darkness
Take my hand
And guide my heart to You
The patterns of this world
Wrap themselves around me
Please help to untangle me
From this web I wove
The chaos in my mind
The angers and temptations
Living in a world that
Plays off lust and greed
Lead me to the Light
When I’m too blind to follow
Take me to the Place
Where for myself I cannot go
Lead me to the Light
I need out of this darkness
Take my hand
And guide my heart to You
So much I’ve yet to learn
Naive nor understanding
What am I to choose
And how am I to serve?
God help me live my life
As a witness of Your Mercy
And when my strength is failing
I know you will endure
Lead me to the Light
When I’m too blind to follow
Take me to the Place
Where for myself I cannot go
Lead me to the Light
I need out of this darkness
Take my hand
And guide my heart to You
When I’m too blind to follow
Take me to the Place
Where for myself I cannot go
Lead me to the Light
I need out of this darkness
Take my hand
And guide my heart to You
The patterns of this world
Wrap themselves around me
Please help to untangle me
From this web I wove
The chaos in my mind
The angers and temptations
Living in a world that
Plays off lust and greed
Lead me to the Light
When I’m too blind to follow
Take me to the Place
Where for myself I cannot go
Lead me to the Light
I need out of this darkness
Take my hand
And guide my heart to You
So much I’ve yet to learn
Naive nor understanding
What am I to choose
And how am I to serve?
God help me live my life
As a witness of Your Mercy
And when my strength is failing
I know you will endure
Lead me to the Light
When I’m too blind to follow
Take me to the Place
Where for myself I cannot go
Lead me to the Light
I need out of this darkness
Take my hand
And guide my heart to You
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
Rambling Rant
The time ticks on
And the snow falls down
And the bus is late
And I am late
And I am late
For school.
The wind picks up
And the world seems cruel
As the bus is still late
And I am late
For a brand-new class
At school.
So what if I whine,
As I stand here alone
With sopping wet cuffs
And sniffling nose
As I wait and wait and wait
And wait for the bus...
So I look up in spite
At the ridiculous sign
That smiles and says
“Wait just twenty minutes”
But means a full hour
Of dashed hopes and cold and wet.
Where is this bus?!
The class will begin,
The professor won’t wait
And won’t care why I’m late
And I am so late,
So late.
I’ve decided to cry.
With tears streaming down,
And freezing my face,
I suddenly see
The stupid late bus
With its stupid late smile.
Just great.
So the world pokes fun
As I wipe down my face
And wipe off my book
And my hat and my hair
And I stick out my tongue at that cruel sign
And that stupid bus
And my phone for a watch
Who laughs in my face as I check the time
Again.
But the bus-driver smiles
And the snow melts away
And I get to class
With a minute to spare
To spare!
Quite mysteriously...
So I’m sorry, I say, to the very late bus
And the snarky sign just trying to help
And the friend I rushed past
Without saying hello
In the hall with dropped eyes
On the way to class.
Perhaps tomorrow
When my alarm goes off
And I reach for the snooze
I’ll get up and out the door instead,
And not have to wait
Or fear being late...
For the third day in a row...
And the snow falls down
And the bus is late
And I am late
And I am late
For school.
The wind picks up
And the world seems cruel
As the bus is still late
And I am late
For a brand-new class
At school.
So what if I whine,
As I stand here alone
With sopping wet cuffs
And sniffling nose
As I wait and wait and wait
And wait for the bus...
So I look up in spite
At the ridiculous sign
That smiles and says
“Wait just twenty minutes”
But means a full hour
Of dashed hopes and cold and wet.
Where is this bus?!
The class will begin,
The professor won’t wait
And won’t care why I’m late
And I am so late,
So late.
I’ve decided to cry.
With tears streaming down,
And freezing my face,
I suddenly see
The stupid late bus
With its stupid late smile.
Just great.
So the world pokes fun
As I wipe down my face
And wipe off my book
And my hat and my hair
And I stick out my tongue at that cruel sign
And that stupid bus
And my phone for a watch
Who laughs in my face as I check the time
Again.
But the bus-driver smiles
And the snow melts away
And I get to class
With a minute to spare
To spare!
Quite mysteriously...
So I’m sorry, I say, to the very late bus
And the snarky sign just trying to help
And the friend I rushed past
Without saying hello
In the hall with dropped eyes
On the way to class.
Perhaps tomorrow
When my alarm goes off
And I reach for the snooze
I’ll get up and out the door instead,
And not have to wait
Or fear being late...
For the third day in a row...
Thursday, 7 August 2008
Breathe
Breathe in...
I fill my lungs with the Breath of Life.
Exhale...
I drain myself of everything mine.
Who am I, what am I?
Questions I pose but cannot answer.
Questions for another mind.
For another person.
For a supernatural source of infinite knowledge;
The sometimes revealer of mystery,
The exclusive creator of all things known
And of things unknown
And things unknowable.
God.
My God.
The answer to the chaos, the anchor in the storm,
The only one that I can trust.
The only one that I can truly trust
Never to change,
Never to falter,
Never to fail,
Never to ignore,
Never to leave,
Never to run,
Never to misjudge,
Never to betray,
Never to die.
Breathe in, slowly...
I feel the life begin to spread into the cold parts of myself,
Into the cold parts of my heart.
Exhale, slowly, so slowly...
Peace washes over my body in a physical wave.
I can feel His love.
A quiet smile covers my face.
Jesus brings out a softness of spirit in me;
A gentleness that is stiffened and chipped by modern civilization.
Our world has a way of leaving scratches and bruises on the soul
But He is the restoration and the fixation of my heart.
Breathe in... be renewed by the Spirit.
Exhale... surrender to a joy and a peace that cannot be swayed by storm.
Let go of your doubts and fears in exchange for the answer;
In exchange for the anchor.
Let go of yourself
And breathe in.
I fill my lungs with the Breath of Life.
Exhale...
I drain myself of everything mine.
Who am I, what am I?
Questions I pose but cannot answer.
Questions for another mind.
For another person.
For a supernatural source of infinite knowledge;
The sometimes revealer of mystery,
The exclusive creator of all things known
And of things unknown
And things unknowable.
God.
My God.
The answer to the chaos, the anchor in the storm,
The only one that I can trust.
The only one that I can truly trust
Never to change,
Never to falter,
Never to fail,
Never to ignore,
Never to leave,
Never to run,
Never to misjudge,
Never to betray,
Never to die.
Breathe in, slowly...
I feel the life begin to spread into the cold parts of myself,
Into the cold parts of my heart.
Exhale, slowly, so slowly...
Peace washes over my body in a physical wave.
I can feel His love.
A quiet smile covers my face.
Jesus brings out a softness of spirit in me;
A gentleness that is stiffened and chipped by modern civilization.
Our world has a way of leaving scratches and bruises on the soul
But He is the restoration and the fixation of my heart.
Breathe in... be renewed by the Spirit.
Exhale... surrender to a joy and a peace that cannot be swayed by storm.
Let go of your doubts and fears in exchange for the answer;
In exchange for the anchor.
Let go of yourself
And breathe in.
Tuesday, 12 February 2008
My Smile
I can’t stop smiling.
I don’t know if it’s because of who he is or who He is.
I see Him in him. In the way he speaks, in the pattern of his words, in the passions of his heart. Through his life I see His life. It’s in the way he starts the conversation when both our heads are bowed. It’s the way he continues it when we open our eyes and return to time and its reality.
And the smiling goes on.
Somehow everything he says comes back to what He says. It’s amazing how often he talks about Him! He’s so obviously at the core of his life. It’s inspiring. It’s contagious. It’s convicting, in a wonderful way.
And I just can’t stop smiling.
I don’t know if it’s because of who he is or who He is.
I see Him in him. In the way he speaks, in the pattern of his words, in the passions of his heart. Through his life I see His life. It’s in the way he starts the conversation when both our heads are bowed. It’s the way he continues it when we open our eyes and return to time and its reality.
And the smiling goes on.
Somehow everything he says comes back to what He says. It’s amazing how often he talks about Him! He’s so obviously at the core of his life. It’s inspiring. It’s contagious. It’s convicting, in a wonderful way.
And I just can’t stop smiling.
Friday, 18 January 2008
In an Instant
In only one instant she could lighten a moment
Brighten a circumstance and bring out your best
She was goofy and fun - she made everyone laugh
With the way that she acted, the way that she dressed
In only one second your day was improved
Because of her smile, her inspiring craze
She could catch you off guard with one conversation
Your life could be changed - she's an intricate maze
In only one hearbeat your life's steady rhythm
Is thrown to the ground and the knife starts to twist
Impossible - not real - you're angry, upset
The finger gets pointed then turns to a fist
In the blink of an eye it all changes again
You're numb and quiet, reflective in thought
A silver lining peeks through the thick rain clouds
You begin to dwell on memories forgot
In an instant you get it, you know you'll move on
You'll learn from her life and help her friends out
Remember to love and be patient with tears
Because maybe that's what this whole thing is about
January 18th, 2005
For one amazing friend and three beautiful souls
Brighten a circumstance and bring out your best
She was goofy and fun - she made everyone laugh
With the way that she acted, the way that she dressed
In only one second your day was improved
Because of her smile, her inspiring craze
She could catch you off guard with one conversation
Your life could be changed - she's an intricate maze
In only one hearbeat your life's steady rhythm
Is thrown to the ground and the knife starts to twist
Impossible - not real - you're angry, upset
The finger gets pointed then turns to a fist
In the blink of an eye it all changes again
You're numb and quiet, reflective in thought
A silver lining peeks through the thick rain clouds
You begin to dwell on memories forgot
In an instant you get it, you know you'll move on
You'll learn from her life and help her friends out
Remember to love and be patient with tears
Because maybe that's what this whole thing is about
January 18th, 2005
For one amazing friend and three beautiful souls
Thursday, 25 October 2007
Two Broken Hearts
“You are not left out” he said.
“I’m calling you aside.
I simply miss your company
And want you to confide.
We used to talk so much,” he said,
“But now your time’s too tight.
Why was I the one you chose
To ignore tonight?
You used to love so much,” he said
“You didn’t used to care
What other people thought of you.
This change just isn’t fair.
Open up your heart of lead,
Stop holding back on me.
I want to be the one to fill
Your life. Why can’t you see?
You’re already loved,” he said
“Can I not satisfy?
Don’t tell me you don’t need me, love
Please, don’t make me cry.
I want your love, my love,” he said
“And I will wait right here
Though broken by your broken heart
I will not disappear.
You are not alone,” he said
“I’ll never leave you out.
All heaven knows I miss you, love
I’m miserable without.”
“I’m calling you aside.
I simply miss your company
And want you to confide.
We used to talk so much,” he said,
“But now your time’s too tight.
Why was I the one you chose
To ignore tonight?
You used to love so much,” he said
“You didn’t used to care
What other people thought of you.
This change just isn’t fair.
Open up your heart of lead,
Stop holding back on me.
I want to be the one to fill
Your life. Why can’t you see?
You’re already loved,” he said
“Can I not satisfy?
Don’t tell me you don’t need me, love
Please, don’t make me cry.
I want your love, my love,” he said
“And I will wait right here
Though broken by your broken heart
I will not disappear.
You are not alone,” he said
“I’ll never leave you out.
All heaven knows I miss you, love
I’m miserable without.”
Thursday, 20 September 2007
The Ultimate Art(ist)
The afternoon view from my window
Outweighs any human design
Colours untameable
Untouched
Unexplainable
From the hand of an artist divine.
If you sat beside me and gazed through this pane,
You could not see the same as I do
For the way that I see
Is unique
Just to me
And mine is an intimate view.
To witness the art of an artist
Is to jump right inside of a soul;
Thought and emotion
Opinion
Devotion
Small pieces defining the whole.
This is the view from my window.
Art from the heart of my God;
He is untameable
Incomprehensible
Beautiful, unique and unflawed.
Outweighs any human design
Colours untameable
Untouched
Unexplainable
From the hand of an artist divine.
If you sat beside me and gazed through this pane,
You could not see the same as I do
For the way that I see
Is unique
Just to me
And mine is an intimate view.
To witness the art of an artist
Is to jump right inside of a soul;
Thought and emotion
Opinion
Devotion
Small pieces defining the whole.
This is the view from my window.
Art from the heart of my God;
He is untameable
Incomprehensible
Beautiful, unique and unflawed.
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