There are no strings attached
to the love that's here for you
even while you get attacked
you've said all that is true
We can only do what's right
regardless of those who'd deny
the things that are there before them
yet you can look them in the eye.
Stand tall and proud
there's no need to pay
it's over now
...it's a new day!
There's so much for you
out there to see
grab onto it
and only be:
the girl you are - whole and free.
Forget the past
..what you cannot change.
move on and grasp
what you have gained....
Experience - though caused by pain.
--mara 2005
Monday, July 24, 2006
Death by Tabasco - Part 4
I was startled when I heard the doorbell. I didn't know Otto could move so quickly. The fastest I'd ever seen him move was when out town had their annual chili-eating contest. He impressed me with the amount of chili he consumed. How could someone eat so much chili in one sitting and not have smoke coming out his nose?
I'm getting off track again -- another of my irritating habits, according to Clive. Ah, well, he won't be bothered by those anymore, will he?! More's the pity.
Heaving a huge sigh, I went to the door and let Otto in. As he entered, he just looked at me, saying nothing. I pointed toward the living room sensing his mood and decided to keep quiet. I don't think he wanted to believe me, but he knew I'd never lie and therefore accepted it without question.
"Brr, Dee, why is it so cold in here?" he said finally.
"Cold?" I asked. "Oh, I had to open the windows because of the smoke from the Tabasco.
"Tabasco?" he ask nonplussed. Understanding starting to dawn and he said, "Oh, you've been making popcorn again haven't you?" He moved on without waiting for an answer. He was used to my odd ways and, though he would never admit it, actually liked my popcorn.
I didn't follow Otto. I knew what was there and decided that I'd let him do what he needed to do without me getting in the way. I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I'm also known for my...er...helpfulness. Some would say it was more like meddling, but I like to think I'm more of a help than an hindrance.
Otto was sure taking his old sweet time in there. How much time does one need to look at a dead body? It seemed like hours since he went in. It's always the same when you're waiting for something...like watching water come to a boil.
"Um, Dee?" Otto asked from the living room.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"You might want to come in here," he replied.
Getting up from the kitchen table, I asked, "Why? I've seen Clive and would rather not have another look if that's okay with you."
"Just come in here, Dee. Make it quick."
Never wanting to upset Otto, I went in. You could have knocked me over with a feather! There, right before my eyes, was Clive sitting upright against the coffee table looking dazed with Otto kneeling beside him. I must have had my mouth opened because Otto said, "Close your mouth, Dee, he's not dead."
"Well," I said. "Ain't that something?"
"That's all you have to say, Dee?" asked my befuddled husband from his position on the floor.
"What more do you want? I thought you kicked the bucket and here you are, sitting up, large as life and breathing along with the rest of us. Why didn't you say something, you inconsiderate slob?!"
A slow smile spread across his face, bloodied by the gash he had on his forehead, as he looked at me. "I didn't want to interrupt Gone With The Wind, babe," he answered. "I know how much you like that movie."
Shaking my head, I couldn't help but smile back. I wonder if now would be a good time to ask about getting rid of that blasted moose head?
I'm getting off track again -- another of my irritating habits, according to Clive. Ah, well, he won't be bothered by those anymore, will he?! More's the pity.
Heaving a huge sigh, I went to the door and let Otto in. As he entered, he just looked at me, saying nothing. I pointed toward the living room sensing his mood and decided to keep quiet. I don't think he wanted to believe me, but he knew I'd never lie and therefore accepted it without question.
"Brr, Dee, why is it so cold in here?" he said finally.
"Cold?" I asked. "Oh, I had to open the windows because of the smoke from the Tabasco.
"Tabasco?" he ask nonplussed. Understanding starting to dawn and he said, "Oh, you've been making popcorn again haven't you?" He moved on without waiting for an answer. He was used to my odd ways and, though he would never admit it, actually liked my popcorn.
I didn't follow Otto. I knew what was there and decided that I'd let him do what he needed to do without me getting in the way. I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I'm also known for my...er...helpfulness. Some would say it was more like meddling, but I like to think I'm more of a help than an hindrance.
Otto was sure taking his old sweet time in there. How much time does one need to look at a dead body? It seemed like hours since he went in. It's always the same when you're waiting for something...like watching water come to a boil.
"Um, Dee?" Otto asked from the living room.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"You might want to come in here," he replied.
Getting up from the kitchen table, I asked, "Why? I've seen Clive and would rather not have another look if that's okay with you."
"Just come in here, Dee. Make it quick."
Never wanting to upset Otto, I went in. You could have knocked me over with a feather! There, right before my eyes, was Clive sitting upright against the coffee table looking dazed with Otto kneeling beside him. I must have had my mouth opened because Otto said, "Close your mouth, Dee, he's not dead."
"Well," I said. "Ain't that something?"
"That's all you have to say, Dee?" asked my befuddled husband from his position on the floor.
"What more do you want? I thought you kicked the bucket and here you are, sitting up, large as life and breathing along with the rest of us. Why didn't you say something, you inconsiderate slob?!"
A slow smile spread across his face, bloodied by the gash he had on his forehead, as he looked at me. "I didn't want to interrupt Gone With The Wind, babe," he answered. "I know how much you like that movie."
Shaking my head, I couldn't help but smile back. I wonder if now would be a good time to ask about getting rid of that blasted moose head?
Sunday, July 23, 2006
For Em via the teen choir...
You Don't See Me
You hear me now, but don't see me
You judge me by the outward things.
You're blind to what appears to be,
Because you don't see me.
Don't see me,
You don't see me,
No, you don't see me at all.
How would it be, if you did see me
As God made me?
How much more with it take
To break what you think is right or wrong?
How can you say you love me,
When you're so busy all day long...
Pointing a finger that makes me want to rung away.
You make me want to hide.
Don't see me
You don't see me,
No, you don't see me at all.
How would it be, if you did see me
As God made me?
I pray God helps you see.
Please, look at me....
Please, look at me!
--mjr 2006
I wrote this for one teen in particular. She's what I can only describe as "mild Goth" and is judged horrendously, especially from adult Christians. Just because she likes more black that most kids at church, doesn't make her a "back-slider." She loves the Lord deeply and is dedicated to Him -- more than most "normal" looking Christians. I've got a special bond with her and it killed me when she told me that her Sunday School teacher was passing judgment on her spiritual state. GRRRRRRR!
You hear me now, but don't see me
You judge me by the outward things.
You're blind to what appears to be,
Because you don't see me.
Don't see me,
You don't see me,
No, you don't see me at all.
How would it be, if you did see me
As God made me?
How much more with it take
To break what you think is right or wrong?
How can you say you love me,
When you're so busy all day long...
Pointing a finger that makes me want to rung away.
You make me want to hide.
Don't see me
You don't see me,
No, you don't see me at all.
How would it be, if you did see me
As God made me?
I pray God helps you see.
Please, look at me....
Please, look at me!
--mjr 2006
I wrote this for one teen in particular. She's what I can only describe as "mild Goth" and is judged horrendously, especially from adult Christians. Just because she likes more black that most kids at church, doesn't make her a "back-slider." She loves the Lord deeply and is dedicated to Him -- more than most "normal" looking Christians. I've got a special bond with her and it killed me when she told me that her Sunday School teacher was passing judgment on her spiritual state. GRRRRRRR!
Another song...
He Will Give You Rest
Tired of walking alone in the dark
tired of being alone
of making ends meet
you're dead on your feet
and all you can see is a spark
The way in itself is endless
you go till you drop
but find you can't stop
'cause you hope somewhere there
you'll find kindness.
But, can't you see?
It's not where you'll be
at the end of this heart-yearning quest.
It's a balm for your soul
God's love makes you whole
In the end, He will give you sweet rest.
Don't look far behind
Love's not of that kind
you've known all your life it to be
Compassion is real
it's His love that you feel
it's what gives you the right to be free.
It's not what you see
it's not where you'll be
All God asks you to do is your best.
He'll show you the way
stay with Him and obey
In the end, He will give you sweet rest.
~~Mara 1999
Tired of walking alone in the dark
tired of being alone
of making ends meet
you're dead on your feet
and all you can see is a spark
The way in itself is endless
you go till you drop
but find you can't stop
'cause you hope somewhere there
you'll find kindness.
But, can't you see?
It's not where you'll be
at the end of this heart-yearning quest.
It's a balm for your soul
God's love makes you whole
In the end, He will give you sweet rest.
Don't look far behind
Love's not of that kind
you've known all your life it to be
Compassion is real
it's His love that you feel
it's what gives you the right to be free.
It's not what you see
it's not where you'll be
All God asks you to do is your best.
He'll show you the way
stay with Him and obey
In the end, He will give you sweet rest.
~~Mara 1999
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Death by Tabasco - Part 3
Life wouldn't have been so bad if Clive had remembered our anniversary or even my birthday from time to time. We had parties for the boys when they were young, but other than that, an anniversary or MY birthday was "just another day."
I should have realized it from the beginning. Clive never wooed me with flowers of the usual things. Actually, I don't think he did anything other than ask me to marry him and even then, his mother had to remind him to go to the wedding! Yes, I should have known...taken it as a sign. But, when you're young and, in my case, stupid you can't see beyond the end of your own nose.
Never one to cry over spilt milk, I made the best of a bad situation. I took up racing. Cars, that is. As unbelievable as that is, I did indeed take up racing. I needed some excitement and a way to get out some of my aggression. (Murder is frowned upon in this state.) I got quite good, actually and even won a few ribbons and trophies, which is no small feat for a woman in her 50's. Mild mannered looking on the outside, but a wild woman on the inside.
Shaking myself out of my reverie, I looked down at Clive's lifeless body and decided that I needed to call Sheriff Otto. It felt like an eternity had passed, but it was actually only about five minutes. I walked over to the phone trying to watch where I was going. As I stepped over Clive, I couldn't help thinking of my prized braided rug. I'd wanted to get one from L.L. Bean for the longest time and they aren't cheap!
Obsessed with a braided rug? You bet! It was hard won, that rug. Clive was dead set (no pun intended, folks) against spending money on something as silly as a braided rug. He thought they were frivolous and didn't look like something anyone should pay more than ten dollars for. But, I got my way after threatening him with beans and hot dogs again. (I'm not one to turn my nose up at a little bribery when the occasion calls for it.)
Having made the call and making my way back to my recliner, I started thinking that I probably should have tried CPR but I've only seen it performed on TV and would have done more harm than good. Knowing Clive, he'd realize that I was the one trying to save him and insist on having someone who didn't want him dead. After the bean and hot dog episode, he was suspicious of everything I did. Can't say as I blame him.
It was going to take Otto a few minute to get there since I disturbed his dinner. So, I sat back and enjoyed the movie. You know, I'm not really surprised that Otto didn't believe me when I told him Clive kicked the bucket. He even said, "Quit pulling my leg, Dee." When I told him I was serious, it sounded like he was choking on something. Clive and I were always saying things like we'd kill each other some day, etc. The only reason we didn't was because neither of us could bear the thought of having to be alone nor starting over with someone else, who probably would put up with our antics anyway.
Otto was used to our nagging one another. So, I think that was the reason he chortled with laughter saying, "Oh, come on Dee, quit pulling my leg, I'm eating here." I think it started sinking in when I told him about the blood that was starting to ruin my new rug. Otto knows about "The Rug" and was always afraid to take sides. Otto didn't go to college, but that didn't mean he was ignorant. That, and the fact that he's known us since grade school, meant he couldn't takes sides. He also knew that he'd never have any peace from either Clive or me if he did.
I should have realized it from the beginning. Clive never wooed me with flowers of the usual things. Actually, I don't think he did anything other than ask me to marry him and even then, his mother had to remind him to go to the wedding! Yes, I should have known...taken it as a sign. But, when you're young and, in my case, stupid you can't see beyond the end of your own nose.
Never one to cry over spilt milk, I made the best of a bad situation. I took up racing. Cars, that is. As unbelievable as that is, I did indeed take up racing. I needed some excitement and a way to get out some of my aggression. (Murder is frowned upon in this state.) I got quite good, actually and even won a few ribbons and trophies, which is no small feat for a woman in her 50's. Mild mannered looking on the outside, but a wild woman on the inside.
Shaking myself out of my reverie, I looked down at Clive's lifeless body and decided that I needed to call Sheriff Otto. It felt like an eternity had passed, but it was actually only about five minutes. I walked over to the phone trying to watch where I was going. As I stepped over Clive, I couldn't help thinking of my prized braided rug. I'd wanted to get one from L.L. Bean for the longest time and they aren't cheap!
Obsessed with a braided rug? You bet! It was hard won, that rug. Clive was dead set (no pun intended, folks) against spending money on something as silly as a braided rug. He thought they were frivolous and didn't look like something anyone should pay more than ten dollars for. But, I got my way after threatening him with beans and hot dogs again. (I'm not one to turn my nose up at a little bribery when the occasion calls for it.)
Having made the call and making my way back to my recliner, I started thinking that I probably should have tried CPR but I've only seen it performed on TV and would have done more harm than good. Knowing Clive, he'd realize that I was the one trying to save him and insist on having someone who didn't want him dead. After the bean and hot dog episode, he was suspicious of everything I did. Can't say as I blame him.
It was going to take Otto a few minute to get there since I disturbed his dinner. So, I sat back and enjoyed the movie. You know, I'm not really surprised that Otto didn't believe me when I told him Clive kicked the bucket. He even said, "Quit pulling my leg, Dee." When I told him I was serious, it sounded like he was choking on something. Clive and I were always saying things like we'd kill each other some day, etc. The only reason we didn't was because neither of us could bear the thought of having to be alone nor starting over with someone else, who probably would put up with our antics anyway.
Otto was used to our nagging one another. So, I think that was the reason he chortled with laughter saying, "Oh, come on Dee, quit pulling my leg, I'm eating here." I think it started sinking in when I told him about the blood that was starting to ruin my new rug. Otto knows about "The Rug" and was always afraid to take sides. Otto didn't go to college, but that didn't mean he was ignorant. That, and the fact that he's known us since grade school, meant he couldn't takes sides. He also knew that he'd never have any peace from either Clive or me if he did.
Friday, July 21, 2006
One of the first songs I ever wrote....
A Cry In The Dark
A cry in the dark
Is all I hear,
A cry in the dark
To draw You near
My soul is bursting
My soul is thirsting
To hear, to see, to feel You here....
Oh Dear God,
Through me make Your mark
And don't let me be just a cry in the dark.
How do I stay
So silent all day
Without a word from You?
Dear Lord, You're my life
I want nothing more,
I just wanna sing
You're what I live for....
Oh Dear God
Through me make Your mark
And don't let me be just a cry in the dark.
~~ Mara 1996
A cry in the dark
Is all I hear,
A cry in the dark
To draw You near
My soul is bursting
My soul is thirsting
To hear, to see, to feel You here....
Oh Dear God,
Through me make Your mark
And don't let me be just a cry in the dark.
How do I stay
So silent all day
Without a word from You?
Dear Lord, You're my life
I want nothing more,
I just wanna sing
You're what I live for....
Oh Dear God
Through me make Your mark
And don't let me be just a cry in the dark.
~~ Mara 1996
Death by Tabasco - Part 2
At I sat there, I began to think back over the years and I can't say that I remember ever having a good day with Clive, poor sap. We met at the restaurant where I worked as a waitress in the middle of town. All I can figure is that he must have caught me at a weak moment when he asked me to marry him because I said, "Yes." Oh, he wasn't too bad at the beginning but, like cheese that's been left out too long, he began to stink over time.
He was cute enough, granted. Though, that's not enough when all you care about is yourself and if Clive were good at anything, it was caring about himself. It wouldn't have been so bad if the boys didn't adopt the same attitude. Well, it can't be said that they didn't learn anything.
I can't complain about my life. After all, I was the one who accepted Clive's proposal and I've always believed that you have to take the consequences that come with making choices, good or bad. Life wasn't terrible, but I could have used a few more roses and not as many thorns, that's for sure.
I'd like to believe that I was Clive's "trophy wife" but couldn't compete with his beloved bull moose head that was proudly mounted above the fireplace in the living room. What an eyesore! I decided then and there, as I sat in my recliner, that "old moosey" would be the first thing to go...that is...after I buried Clive.
He liked to tell people that he wrestled that bull moose down to the ground with his bare hands but, fact is, he'd hit it with his pick-up truck and had to call the sheriff. Sheriff Otto had to put the poor beast out of its misery and shot him. I'm positive that Clive gave Otto an entire paycheck to ensure Otto's silence. But, between paying Otto and having to buy a new pick-up, there wasn't much left over for groceries.
For that, I got my revenge. I kept feeding Clive hot dogs and beans for two months straight until he begged for mercy. I keep wondering if it was because I'd secretly put prunes in with the beans and then started adding a drop or two of Tabasco to disguise the taste of the prunes. I never liked bean myself and Clive never thought twice about it as I sat there eating my chicken Caesar salad. He believed that a salad wasn't "real food" and made fun of me for eating what he liked to call, "rabbit leftovers."
As you can imagine, after Month Two of beans and hot dogs, he seemed to change his mind about my "rabbit leftovers" and I would catch him looking longingly at my plate. Who can blame him? I'm sure he was getting tired of those frequent trips to the bathroom.
I too pity on him after awhile and never served hot dogs and beans ever again. Although, he did admit to liking the taste of Tabasco. So, that's when I started adding a few drops into the popcorn oil. It ended up being a treat for both of us, which gave us probably the only thing we had in common.
He was cute enough, granted. Though, that's not enough when all you care about is yourself and if Clive were good at anything, it was caring about himself. It wouldn't have been so bad if the boys didn't adopt the same attitude. Well, it can't be said that they didn't learn anything.
I can't complain about my life. After all, I was the one who accepted Clive's proposal and I've always believed that you have to take the consequences that come with making choices, good or bad. Life wasn't terrible, but I could have used a few more roses and not as many thorns, that's for sure.
I'd like to believe that I was Clive's "trophy wife" but couldn't compete with his beloved bull moose head that was proudly mounted above the fireplace in the living room. What an eyesore! I decided then and there, as I sat in my recliner, that "old moosey" would be the first thing to go...that is...after I buried Clive.
He liked to tell people that he wrestled that bull moose down to the ground with his bare hands but, fact is, he'd hit it with his pick-up truck and had to call the sheriff. Sheriff Otto had to put the poor beast out of its misery and shot him. I'm positive that Clive gave Otto an entire paycheck to ensure Otto's silence. But, between paying Otto and having to buy a new pick-up, there wasn't much left over for groceries.
For that, I got my revenge. I kept feeding Clive hot dogs and beans for two months straight until he begged for mercy. I keep wondering if it was because I'd secretly put prunes in with the beans and then started adding a drop or two of Tabasco to disguise the taste of the prunes. I never liked bean myself and Clive never thought twice about it as I sat there eating my chicken Caesar salad. He believed that a salad wasn't "real food" and made fun of me for eating what he liked to call, "rabbit leftovers."
As you can imagine, after Month Two of beans and hot dogs, he seemed to change his mind about my "rabbit leftovers" and I would catch him looking longingly at my plate. Who can blame him? I'm sure he was getting tired of those frequent trips to the bathroom.
I too pity on him after awhile and never served hot dogs and beans ever again. Although, he did admit to liking the taste of Tabasco. So, that's when I started adding a few drops into the popcorn oil. It ended up being a treat for both of us, which gave us probably the only thing we had in common.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
That's Enough
I scream, I sigh
Frustration runs high
I don't understand the part of God's plan
That seems to be passing me by.
I cannot explain
The amount of this pain
I feel in the depths of my soul.
I reason it out
Twist it about
And find I've lost sight of the goal.
I'm a bird in a box
In the hunt I'm the fox,
I'm running as fast as I can.
What is it I want?
Life seems such a taunt
I've run where I've already ran.
There's got to be something I just haven't done,
There's got to be something I haven't begun,
There's something I've missed,
A part I've dismissed
A race that will never be won.
But, what can it be
That still eludes me
Of the part God wants me to see?
Is it realizing yet, that all I will get
While struggling here all alone
Is that God is still here
He's standing so near
And He loves me as one of His own?
Oh, the fight I put up
For what? I don't know.
Is it worth all the pain?
What is it I gain?
My life on this earth is a breath, just a vapor
And things here will all fade away
I know that God cares
He IS always aware
Of the things I need everyday.
I wish it were easy and not quite so tough
But the roads in my life are stony and rough
And when I think I can't stand anymore,
God holds me and says:
"That's Enough"
~~mara 1996
Frustration runs high
I don't understand the part of God's plan
That seems to be passing me by.
I cannot explain
The amount of this pain
I feel in the depths of my soul.
I reason it out
Twist it about
And find I've lost sight of the goal.
I'm a bird in a box
In the hunt I'm the fox,
I'm running as fast as I can.
What is it I want?
Life seems such a taunt
I've run where I've already ran.
There's got to be something I just haven't done,
There's got to be something I haven't begun,
There's something I've missed,
A part I've dismissed
A race that will never be won.
But, what can it be
That still eludes me
Of the part God wants me to see?
Is it realizing yet, that all I will get
While struggling here all alone
Is that God is still here
He's standing so near
And He loves me as one of His own?
Oh, the fight I put up
For what? I don't know.
Is it worth all the pain?
What is it I gain?
My life on this earth is a breath, just a vapor
And things here will all fade away
I know that God cares
He IS always aware
Of the things I need everyday.
I wish it were easy and not quite so tough
But the roads in my life are stony and rough
And when I think I can't stand anymore,
God holds me and says:
"That's Enough"
~~mara 1996
Death by Tabasco - Part 1
I didn't know it would kill him.
He loved Tabasco sauce and he liked it when I put a few drops in his popcorn oil. But that night I think I over did it...a little. I'm not sure what gave that away. Was it the cloud of red smoke? Or the fumes that made me sneeze and cough so much so, that I had to run outside to breathe?
I could never be sure, but Clive started coughing so hard that he doubled over, fell out of his chair and hit his head against the corner of the coffee table, the one I kept telling him to get rid of because, "someone is going to trip and smash their head or take out an eye."
I couldn't help thinking, as Clive's blood oozed out onto the rug (granted, it wasn't a huge puddle, but it did start to flow) that I just spent booku bucks on to get it cleaned.
I'm Clive's wife, Dee. I'm your average Joe...er...Jolene. I will never make it into the history books, but I'd like to think I contributed something useful and in fact I did: Tabasco popcorn!
You have to be careful about how many drips you put into the oil or, like me tonight, you'll have to open the windows so that you won't suffocate.
After opening the windows and the smoke started to dissipate, I did the next logical thing. I sat down in front of the TV and started eating the popcorn. It was too late for Clive and I he wouldn't be wanting any at this point and chose to let him lie there. I figured another hour wouldn't hurt him.
Anyway, Clive was too ornery to start decomposing until after the ball game was over. Come to think of it, I could sit here and watch anything I wanted. I switched it immediately over to find Gone with the Wind was airing. How nice.
I know. You're thinking, "Is she crazy?!"
Some would say, "Yes," depending on who you talked to. Besides, you've got to be a little crazy to make it in the world today. And, after years of cleaning up after Clive and our two ungrateful sons, I decided that I deserved a peaceful moment or two.
He loved Tabasco sauce and he liked it when I put a few drops in his popcorn oil. But that night I think I over did it...a little. I'm not sure what gave that away. Was it the cloud of red smoke? Or the fumes that made me sneeze and cough so much so, that I had to run outside to breathe?
I could never be sure, but Clive started coughing so hard that he doubled over, fell out of his chair and hit his head against the corner of the coffee table, the one I kept telling him to get rid of because, "someone is going to trip and smash their head or take out an eye."
I couldn't help thinking, as Clive's blood oozed out onto the rug (granted, it wasn't a huge puddle, but it did start to flow) that I just spent booku bucks on to get it cleaned.
I'm Clive's wife, Dee. I'm your average Joe...er...Jolene. I will never make it into the history books, but I'd like to think I contributed something useful and in fact I did: Tabasco popcorn!
You have to be careful about how many drips you put into the oil or, like me tonight, you'll have to open the windows so that you won't suffocate.
After opening the windows and the smoke started to dissipate, I did the next logical thing. I sat down in front of the TV and started eating the popcorn. It was too late for Clive and I he wouldn't be wanting any at this point and chose to let him lie there. I figured another hour wouldn't hurt him.
Anyway, Clive was too ornery to start decomposing until after the ball game was over. Come to think of it, I could sit here and watch anything I wanted. I switched it immediately over to find Gone with the Wind was airing. How nice.
I know. You're thinking, "Is she crazy?!"
Some would say, "Yes," depending on who you talked to. Besides, you've got to be a little crazy to make it in the world today. And, after years of cleaning up after Clive and our two ungrateful sons, I decided that I deserved a peaceful moment or two.
hold on
don't want to go,
am tired.
don't want to smile,
am tired.
what can I do
but look toYou?!
oh...
am tired.
inside
there's turmoil,
which You did not create.
it is I,
all twisted
in agony
resisting defeat.
hold on
just barely.
but, still I know
You're there
to focus on
instead of darkenss here.
Oh, yes!
I fly,
I soar
beyond this here and now.
I see Hope
beyond and how
You'll make what's wrong
be right
I hold on
but, OW!
it hurts
yes...I will
...hold on...
mjr 1005
am tired.
don't want to smile,
am tired.
what can I do
but look toYou?!
oh...
am tired.
inside
there's turmoil,
which You did not create.
it is I,
all twisted
in agony
resisting defeat.
hold on
just barely.
but, still I know
You're there
to focus on
instead of darkenss here.
Oh, yes!
I fly,
I soar
beyond this here and now.
I see Hope
beyond and how
You'll make what's wrong
be right
I hold on
but, OW!
it hurts
yes...I will
...hold on...
mjr 1005
Truth
what is truth?
it is what...IS
not what you want it to be.
it is real,
not what we feel,
it is what helps us deal
with all the things life brings.
what is truth?
it's not perception
or conjecture
or perfection.
it is undeniable,
unavoidable,
glaring.
what is truth?
it is Light
from which we cannot hide.
mjr 2005
it is what...IS
not what you want it to be.
it is real,
not what we feel,
it is what helps us deal
with all the things life brings.
what is truth?
it's not perception
or conjecture
or perfection.
it is undeniable,
unavoidable,
glaring.
what is truth?
it is Light
from which we cannot hide.
mjr 2005
Monday, July 17, 2006
My Secret Place
In my secret place
you cannot see
what really goes on inside of me.
I try to tell you
but you cannot hear
because you're afraid to get near.
In my secret place
I reach out
to what will bring me peace
but don't want to see
it's only me
...alone.
In my secret place
I cannot hide
away from what is right..
darkness exists
yet, there is Light
if just a flicker in the night.
In my secret place
I see
I feel
I bleed
I win
I lose
and I have the power to choose
to look upon that Light
even if so small and far away
is bright in the dark night.
In my secret place
I reach out and suddenly,
I feel
His hand touch mine
and pulls me closer to the flame
of that small light from where He came
to illuminate
my weary soul
and take me Home
and make me whole
...again.
In my secret place
He is there
no matter how I fear
that He'll leave
because
He never does.
He stays when I push Him away,
I don't want Him to see
the me I wish was clear
of filth and ugliness
...yet,
In my secret place
He knows me best
I sit down,
He gives me rest
He sees me differently
and
I am free
because He loves me
...as I am.
In my secret place
I know...
...I'm not alone
mjr 2005
you cannot see
what really goes on inside of me.
I try to tell you
but you cannot hear
because you're afraid to get near.
In my secret place
I reach out
to what will bring me peace
but don't want to see
it's only me
...alone.
In my secret place
I cannot hide
away from what is right..
darkness exists
yet, there is Light
if just a flicker in the night.
In my secret place
I see
I feel
I bleed
I win
I lose
and I have the power to choose
to look upon that Light
even if so small and far away
is bright in the dark night.
In my secret place
I reach out and suddenly,
I feel
His hand touch mine
and pulls me closer to the flame
of that small light from where He came
to illuminate
my weary soul
and take me Home
and make me whole
...again.
In my secret place
He is there
no matter how I fear
that He'll leave
because
He never does.
He stays when I push Him away,
I don't want Him to see
the me I wish was clear
of filth and ugliness
...yet,
In my secret place
He knows me best
I sit down,
He gives me rest
He sees me differently
and
I am free
because He loves me
...as I am.
In my secret place
I know...
...I'm not alone
mjr 2005
Heart Don't Faint
heart don't faint
today is over
tomorrow starts
it's your four leaf clover.
don't worry 'bout what cannot change
look to the Light
so nice and bright
what growth night brought...it's not so strange
growth, at times, is cloaked in pain,
that's how it is
when there's more to gain
than to exist
check off that list
of things to do that don't meant a thing.
Go! Choose to live
got out and give
all of your heart
unafraid to start
and see that you're the biggest part
of joy to others
filtering out like a sieve :)
mjr 2005
today is over
tomorrow starts
it's your four leaf clover.
don't worry 'bout what cannot change
look to the Light
so nice and bright
what growth night brought...it's not so strange
growth, at times, is cloaked in pain,
that's how it is
when there's more to gain
than to exist
check off that list
of things to do that don't meant a thing.
Go! Choose to live
got out and give
all of your heart
unafraid to start
and see that you're the biggest part
of joy to others
filtering out like a sieve :)
mjr 2005
Summer
It's summer!
the sun is out
and I'm about
to shout
for joy
and will employ
my voice to get it out.
I smell sweet air
and with great flair
announce, "I love it!"
from atop my chair
say what you will
I have the thrill
of warming up in the sun,
it burns and scorches me
tries to torture me,
but still it's oh, so fun!
come and join me
sing twiddly dee
and see if you won't smile,
it's time to see
come sit with me
and soak it in for a while.
mjr 2005
the sun is out
and I'm about
to shout
for joy
and will employ
my voice to get it out.
I smell sweet air
and with great flair
announce, "I love it!"
from atop my chair
say what you will
I have the thrill
of warming up in the sun,
it burns and scorches me
tries to torture me,
but still it's oh, so fun!
come and join me
sing twiddly dee
and see if you won't smile,
it's time to see
come sit with me
and soak it in for a while.
mjr 2005
Sunday, July 16, 2006
the beginning
I've decided to start this particular blog in hopes of honing my writing skills. I've got a lot I want to get out and maybe this will be the vehicle that get's the creative juices flowing. I'll start with things I've already written first and branch out. Poetry, prose and plays....
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