Train Wheels

I sit on the train.
The dull hum of metal
wheels on metal
tracks lulls me to the point of
sleep. As the wheels fight
friction, slowly pushing
forward, I fight
lies. Truth that should
humble, bringing me
prostrate, instead battles a head held
high. Pride threatens to
corrupt, taking stance against
redemption. But my nature is
new; it is now
divine. I am like You,
tempted, but not
overcome.

Following Hard After God (A Prayer)

O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, that so I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away." Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

- A.W. Tozer

Achy Knees, Pounding Head

Dull, constant pain
in my knees.
fallen,
this body and my knees.
Broken, but not
enough.
A short glimpse of
relief,
for me and my knees.
No doctor, no end to the
pain.
Left here broken,
crying
tears on my knees.
Seek and ye shall
find,
an end to this interminable
struggle
between me and my knees.

Nebulus & Nefarious

A Long, Long, Long Time

Wow...it has been an extremely long time since I've written a thing. I see the last entry is when I returned from my trip to Europe; that was almost 6 months ago. Now...I'm in Philly...job hunting...for what seems like forever!

This time after graduation is so interesting. I see the rest of my life laid before me and as I survey the scene, I see a myriad of choices. There is a freedom of pursuit that I have never known before. I have to chance to try anything that I like, live anywhere I want, and relate with anyone I want. "That's wonderful!" someone might say. At first hearing, it does sound like a fairy tale. It is all but a dream to me.

You say that I can do anything, but how do I choose? What do I love? Where do my passions lie? These questions have been plaguing me for the past few months, and I'm slowing realizing, will be plaguing me for quite a few years. I'm starting to see that I have an adventure laid out before me and, with time, that adventure is becoming adventurous. We will see what He has ordained for me. However, we know that He has already ordained.

A Bookend

Homeward bound, and I am excited. Still, I look at this time and already, a nostalgic aura grows. So it is with everything in my life. In an instant, an experience becomes a memory. That memory becomes a warm, comfortable respite for my mind, like that old, worn sweatshirt that perfectly wraps around your torso, always making you feel at home. And so, this trips is already becoming that comfortable sweatshirt. On cold and rainy days, I will pull it over my head with a sigh of satisfaction as I fondly remember these seventeen days of adventure, romance, and a growing peculiar joy.

Roma

Town of Sorrento - about a 2 hour train ride from Rome.

Justin's Apartment

Roof of the Pantheon

Tiber River and Saint Peter's

The Pantheon

Shadows and Contrast

Two paths, both uncertain,
Ends veiled behind a curtain.
Green grass and driveways,
Pockets of life off parkways.
Or concrete and street lights,
Dead bolts and dark nights.
I'm afraid of both.

Life in a Minor Key

Step, step, twirl, fall and laugh.
Extend a hand and rise again.
Now we dance; feet, legs and arms
Move as one.

Step, step, twirl, fall and cry.
Extend a hand; it's pushed away.
The music continues, in a minor key,
There are two.

Cry, cry, sit, moan and despise.
Extended hand remains.
The hand moves; feet, legs, and arms
Stand as one.

Step, step, twirl, laugh and cry.
Extend a hand to my own.
The music plays in a minor key;
We move as one.

Long Awaited Epiphany

When all is burned away,
You remain.
When all things turn to gray,
You remain.
When all pursuits fail,
You remain.
When lights turn pale,
You remain.
When a heart cries,
You remain.
When even love dies,
You remain.
When eyes fill with tears,
You remain.
When there is sorrow; unending fears,
You remain.

When joy abounds,
You remain.
When beauty astounds,
You remain.
When pain and joy become one,
You remain.
When my striving is done,
You remain.

Lectures on English Poets...

Poetry is only the highest eloquence of passion, the most vivid form of expression that can be given to our conception of any thing, whether pleasureable or painful, mean or dignified, delightful or distressing. It is the perfect coincidence of the image and the words with the feeling we have, and of which we cannot get rid in any other way, that gives an instant "satisfaction of the thought." This is equally the origin of wit and fancy, of comedy and tragedy, of the sublime and the pathetic.... We see the thing ourselves, and show it to others as we feel it to exist, and as, in spite of ourselves, we are compelled to think of it. The imagination, by thus embodying and turning them to shape, gives an obvious relief to the indistinct and importunate cravings of the will. We do not wish the thing to be so; buy we wish it to appear such as it is. For knowledge is conscious power; and the mind is no longer, in this case, the dupe, though it may be the victim of vice or folly. Poetry is in all its shapes the language of the imagination and the passions, of fancy and will.

- William Hazlitt

A Check For $16.87

My desk is cluttered,
Less than this morning;
I cleaned it a little-
Its still not right.

Empty envelopes, white mints
Spotted with green, and paper still take
Up too much room. Can I get
My desk together, perfectly?

The internet doesn't work; I
Say its not my fault, that
Things are left undone.
No, things are left unsaid.

Psalm 19: 12-13

Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults. Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me! Then I shall be blameless and innocent of great transgressions.

Georgiana

There's a smile in your song
A lightness in your step.
Can I find you wrong?
No, not since the day we met.

An Away Message

What would the world be with out poetry?
A river without a spring.
The sun without light.
A man without a soul.
No, we would find it an empty, cold world
That did not know its poet heart.