An Unhealthy Internet Generation

To tell you the truth, I hate blogs.

Might sound funny, considering I have one, which I have hardly used in the past few years…

But I guess I have issues with something that people spend so much time on that isn’t really reality. Things like facebook and myspace can be such the focal point of people’s lives and they forget the reason that these resources exist is to connect with people…not to avoid them.

I find there is a danger with having a blog because you spend your life on the internet rather than with people.

I know for me, I use this as a journal…as you can guess I don’t journal often, so I don’t see any unhealthy abuse being used here. But I do know friends who live on facebook, and who sit at home, as opposed to actually going out to hang out with their friends, and comment on photo’s all the time.

I guess, my point is this…are we going to grow old, and during the last minutes of our lives, regret all the time that we’ve spent on these chatrooms, blogs, and things of the like…I know I don’t want to regret my life or at least regret all the time I spent on worthless things.

So take this post as a warning, or as a suggestion…get off your computer and go outside. You might have just logged on and came across this accidentally, or you might have been on for a couple hours already…

When have you last gone out for coffee with a friend? When did you last go for a walk? Go to the gym? Read a good book?

I know it’s been too long for me for all these things…perhaps it’s time to stop living vicariously through electrons and air waves and actually live life the way I’ve been wanting…

I Persue You

I pursue you, faint fully seeking the twilight mist,
Forth fully searing the garden maidens wrist,
Shouting the catch of a first fruits fish,
I pursue you.

You entice me, the ringing of water off the bawn’s first tide,
The sun at midday from the blue set sky,
The cooing of the birds in a nest tree high,
You entice me.

You reject me, the west warm wind that strikes at noon,
The cotton ball streaking of the rabbit’s first move,
The sunset speaking warm words to the moon,
You reject me.

You elude me, the sun recedes while the stars give way,
The animal instinct that was hiding through day,
The coolness of night brings fresh things to say,
You elude me.

You confuse me, the silence of darkness with the singing of life,
The black of the roads with the beams of white light,
The serenity of evening with the chills of the night,
You confuse me.

I pursue you, the dawning of sun with the dew of the eve,
A fresh start that dries the wet from the leaves,
A summer of sun with the birth of new means,
I pursue you.

Love is This

Touch this heart, this face, this soul, it beats for you alone.
Feel this pulse, this skin, this warmth, it’s feels a day too old.
See these eyes, these ears, these toes, they fall distinctly mute.
Love this hair, these lungs, the air, it sings of beauty’s truth.
Find the scars, these hands, these arms, the strength the beast contains.
Breathe her taste, her freckled face, the beauty that belle is made.
Hold these feet, these soles, these teeth, the sheep her mouth consist.
Take her breaths, her tongue, her breasts, and sigh for love is this.

A Glimpse of Heaven’s Light

She loses her appeal,
the eyes begin to steal,
glances at a rate of falling rain.
The constant contemplate,
receive the fare of fate,
begins to wear the soul corrode away.

Her shoes posses her feet,
her movements on the street,
they lead us to a place of no return.
How often I do stare,
while conscience screams to tear
the weight of loss, the cost it is to burn.

She’s always in a hurry;
her steps are drove by fury,
to make it to the place that she has chose.
And even though she waits,
disguised by what she takes,
she manages to win but though she lose.

She tans and she corrodes
her skin with fleshly clothes,
to make the boys turn and stop and stare.
Her skin can barely breathe
with the make-up she believes
will give her all she wants to get her there.

And God forbid she frowns,
forbid her hair let down,
forbid she let me close enough to pray.
I know that I can see,
a troubled mind that He
could figure out, but she’s got lots to say.

I wanted to brave,
to come and save the day,
to bring her back to where she true belongs.
For years I fight alone,
against the fears she owns,
with no idea if ever she’ll be strong.

So once again we fight,
for a glimpse of heaven’s light,
while focused on the things of earth. It seems
However I may try,
I’ll always be denied,
and fight for her when she won’t fight for me.

Felicity

Felicity, it escapes the bravest soul.
To toil and work towards its benefits lack’s clear distinction.
The first of many steps can seem so vague.
It escapes me.

Sustenance, to be provided from above.
A measure of how often we do good deeds and works,
Shall it be all we are judged for?
We deny it.

Deniability, we profess that we have triumphed.
We delude ourselves to a false reality that bears no merit.
Our renewal has not yet arrived.
Living in tomorrow.

Barbaric, they come with pitch-forks and lanterns.
Stringing up their messiahs they torture and bereave them.
Their happiness comes from self-delusion.
Convincing their conscience.

Encouragement, we stand short together in hiding.
We are stronger in larger numbers but are weaker in mass.
Sacrifice mean nothing without repentance.
Grace by gallons.

Accountability, we are accountable to each other.
Amidst the sharp edges of reason we cut our toes and forget our cause.
There is no redemption for ambivalence.
Are we cured?

Sunset Glare

A fresco perfect stereotype, this slanted tabletop,
A cold but melting bit of ice that sings ‘forget me not’.
A sunset glare upon the wall, the red the sky provokes,
The stars they may forget their place, but they shine just as their told.

A girl i met, the tears the sweat, the way her eyes survey,
A lure of pure sweet honey cure to let her save the day.
And even though I struggle lo’ I strive for her to hear,
The whispers of my soul project the beat, my heart, is here.

A coat of freshly painted dust that blankets the window sil,
The breeze that blows from head to toe but the dust somehow stays still.
A freshly painted freckled girl, a sigh that breathes a moan,
A chilly day in the midst of may, she laughs at the sight alone.

Conflicted sounds from depths abound, the ears of babe’s may bleed,
But on her toes, the record goes, she left to be with me.
To move upon a chance, it seems, is folly but is wise
When love conforms to no sojourns to leave that girl behind.

So call upon a fickled fate that stinks of fumes of lore,
And leave behind the tears of doubt that pained your heart before.
For all shall hear, but some shall not, and some shall never know,
The sunset glare upon the wall, the red the sky to glow.