To answer fury, He was soft

Like a lioness
Trapped in a cage
Please tame
Her wild ways.

Strong with teeth
Sharp and biting
She speaks with words
Not so inviting

Tearing through and through
The humble Master
Saying words of love
To calm disaster

He cries when she's whipped
Into submission
As she is breaking
His heart is broken.

She hardly sees
Past blinded eyes
Her own frailty
Is its own sunrise.

He clearly sees
Past snarling lips
She scrapes at wounds
He's tried to kiss

Her rage is
Unjustified
His sacrifice was
for her life.

The cat is meek
She's been declawed
He has mercy
On her flaws.

(this was written in response to a recent post by a friend on blahblahblog.blogspot.com)

Bright Eyes

I want my heart to be held.
I want my soul to be touched with the tender love that
I know You have.
I want myself to be able to let go and
Release all the pent up emotions, placing them one by one
On the table with a gentle hand.

Caring words and bright eyes
So many never got to say goodbye
And all I heard were boy man cries

The world, it spins on and
I, I can't get off. to go float away
In a soft embrace, where I want to go.
Comforting silk, I'm laying so close
I want to be on the floor so when comes grief's dose
I'll be ready, and my heart, my heart will be steady.

My heart is steadfast Lord,
My soul is heartsick.
My heart is steadfast Lord,
My soul is heartsick.

Caring words and bright eyes
So many never got to say goodbye
And all I heard were boy man cries
When they said he was still alive.

Even if I do believe, I do receive
Sadness in empathy.
Even if I believe, I do conceive
Burning anger in sympathy.

But they say he's still alive and
My heart, my soul
Just want to cry.

I want my heart to be held.

True repentance, packing and lists

I wish

the sky would decide what face it wants to wear today

I think

it's the master manipulator of all my thoughts and feelings

I seem

to feel the need to have a holiday, Christmas, or fall now.

It's a day to grab hot chocolate and write letters of love,

sing to soft spoken people and listen to music that makes me float.

Criss crossing feelings, I want to breathe in all these faces, and 

never forget them all. 

I've had this before, wanting to keep inhaling, never exhale.

I don't want to forget. 

Real Smiles and Poetry

I finally finished my expat scholarship video.. If you would like to see it click here. I spent a lot of time on it, I'd love to know what you think. 

I started packing today.... I hate the idea of leaving. I love going, but I hate leaving. And taking pictures off the walls and sorting through notes and letters does nothing to make me feel any better about it.  There's something ridiculously sentimental about letters. 

I'll look in my closet and find a boxful. 

Notes and such from high school.

I turn to catch an earful

of the silliness that causes tearfall.

I can't stop thinking about this and that,

All the things I need to do when I get back.

I decided that my mind is itself a trap,

That I'm entirely a mouse, with its very own cat. 

A stone's throw away, lies an ornate chair,

I find myself sitting in it, something rare.

The look on my face is more a dare,

And the little clenched fists I hold in my lap, a scare. 

And so I box up my life, yet once more, 

Decide to vent frustrations at an open door.

Terrified to know what lies in store,

Longing for that little bit of something more.

Leaking dissatisfaction and pure unreaction,

I lead in paths of little or large adaption.

I am but part of a bigger faction

And so my feelings are revealed to be a fraction.

Tossing sentiment out the window,

With a baby in the bathwater and an "in you go".

I lose my balance and get some warm glow,

And go back again to be a minnow.

Clinic

I wish I could capture all that I saw and felt. 

A hundred shacks race past my sight
Tall walls and brick views.
The sound of tires on wet streets,
Lakes pelted by rain
and huddled bodies. 

Huddles bodies make living look hard.
Black skin glistens.
Bare feet and only rags to cover the
Most private parts of their souls.
Lightning shatters my nerves.

"What's your name?"
"What's your number?"
"Please don't throw your baby in the dumpster."

"Where's the dad?"
"You've got bare feet,"
"Let's get you off of this wet street."

Come to us first, let's go to God.

Well, I captured it pretty well.