sick

I don't want anyone right now. do you even read this?
probably not - you're just half a step too far away from doing what
you talk
it's enabling for me to repeat myself over and over again
just to make you realize that you're not moving
anywhere except with your ducking fick

shutting the gates of hell now, thank you
please leave me alone.

invest

a strange way to begin
to detect the lightest beginnings and begin
to invest in them,
to change with the seasons.

And allow myself to be indefinite
but inventive
as seasons become the reason to be blessed,
envisioned

Fateful

There was something new I felt today.
It's going to go a new way
All the nudes of my darkness will be appraised
for their aptitude to be a prude
Just like how I was convinced to be
So many years ago, so many tears ago,
On this fateful day

Unprotected flight

Speakers blasting with some rambunctious steroids
music like the colored hairs of these neon freaks
they like to drink tea and appear a mystery

are fighting norms that establish a cultural achievement
in society.

In search of sanity, I dole out miserable messages
of dissatisfied monogamy, to an inner world
That creates cacophony in the place of
Rapid, exact, intuitive misogynistic matrimony

He is like a false expectation that expected
nothing, ever, from me.
He never knew what to say, what to ask,
but he always had all the excuses
to prevent his world from collapsing
Into freedom

I want the Real Deal

I feel at home in the longing of my heart
No longer a challenge to surrender
It's all been stripped away, so take it Lord
So break in Lord
Like You have always done so well

I'll find myself back in Your arms again,
Like it has always been, will be

pride

it felt like the worst disease i've ever heard of

flesh-eating and degenerate

i felt like i couldn't be myself, and if i was

i was put down

like he was the most vile of the exploiters of men

because he used the name of God

to get his way in, use and abuse

to exalt his own glory while exploiting others

for theirs, like a hidden tyrant that guards well his evil

to gain rapport from the laymen who are unsuspecting

of his beguiling behavior

i've experienced either the most elusively beautiful reality

or the most detestable form of sin known to man

It's over now

I gave it to you in pieces
Strongly holding onto me
It's a strange experience like
the moments you struggled for

It's like just another memory
To release

I'm wasting away before your very eyes, don't you see?
Don't you care?
Am I a disease? Or am I alive just to be here.

Mommy

I spent all the years of my life
       Laughing your joys in its highest heights and lows
       Dancing all your dreams in a neat little row
               I caused a row
Every time you stopped feeling
       I cut open my heart to bleed for you
       I scoured the illicit planet for you
Living out all the dangers of heaven and hell
       The strangers you never got to know too well
       The freedoms you so intensely feared
               The strangest fantasies
               Appearing so real
I danced away the lies you believed, so fiercely
        That you left me
To fear

Come back to me
        I cry
You left me again

For a dream that will not disappear, though you try
       To forget the little girl you lost inside
       A sweet, faint, strange little memory
She comes in a flowery dress, like mine
And dances to the music of chrysanthemum fields
       She dances until the end of time
       Will she be found? In the home of her mother's love.
                Alone like your mother's home

Jaded, but I have to Laugh

he met me halfway with stutters and a nervous glance

i’m tempted to stutter in mimicry

i’ve been burned before

i’ve never shared this with anyone, he says

taking a chance, he claims he’s taking a chance. 

If you knew who I am

Speech is overrated

all I do is talk and listen

and verbally respond and proverbially refrain

Be responded to but not remember what

In tongue, in cheek, in words, in what

But nothing ever gets done

In the frame of my season

If I could just be silent and be still

instead.

Perhaps I could move through a sculpture

or sing through a dance

listen with a gentle nudge

speak with a glance
I'd paint between the lines
Articulate the silence of the stars
Compose the hues of ocean depths
With a simple rhythmic move

And stain my freedom with blood and sweat

like my forefathers and mothers did

to provide a house for my lineage

A triage of heritage merits and debt

It's nothing I could repair with my own fret

Or the words that I so mindlessly spit

My movements have grown dull
I'm disenchanted by my own

Impoverished soul

Has my music lost its voice?

Has my motion lost its force?

But I will redeem the time that's lost

I will remain obscure to regain the works of my hands

That speak of a greater Word

Than what I have ever uttered forth.

Slurring

To exploit the basic needs
of human connection
this world does
Wreck emotion to
fit its evil deeds
Fucked

that



I'm







stuck
in.
for a short while I won't forget the pain
Full stareless memories that
I didn't know You yet
during then are
sorry
hurting

searching
to finding You is all possible
glee find laughter
learning

who would steal my
heart
for a simple stare from me

this worthy man who
Fulfilled this basic need


of Love

while
the whole world is saying

Don't




hurt me

they wander the land with an alarm

The sounds of death are valiant in the land
alight with delirious distance.
a fountain of youth is beyond the reach
of the lies of resistance, stand. just stand
I freaked out when I realize who you are

when no one is watching

watching. Stand with me now
You watchmen on the wall, sound the

ALARM!!!! Alarm our
people of the rebellious lands who they are
what they believe
that crushes the freedom of lesser beings
under their denial of who they are meant to be.

Do you KNOW who you're meant to be?
(it sometimes registers, slowly)
You're free. You're free. You're meant to be free.

Nine Band Names To Forget

I Am Spiraling Out
Of Love

With You

Like The Last Of
The Seedy Wishes

Blown Off

A Dandelion
You Plucked And I Feel
So Free Now

spilled

i spilled into my left brain      it splashed

            colorfully

and the pigments spread 

  out into   the    meadows          of                          my                                       mind

a dare

pioneers of mountains strap their swaddled minds
into a spacious grainy stare
and move past the beasts of the air

in full swing

I'm adjusting to the light again
emerged from a dusty lair in those ugly chains
that protrude from the mouth of the pit
like some kind of grotesque offering

"speak forth unto the land"
They steadily declare, in sweet surrender
you will have strength to dare

in trust and tender,
you will be strong to dare

oh but how sweet is it, this song that they sing

Fear

The fine line between Faith and Insanity

Fear and Irrationality

In taking that step towards the calling which is 

One's true identity

In which Circumstances

My defensive stances

Unlucky chances,

They all scream captivity at me

To get Me to Fear

Their own God forsaken Fear of Me.

The fall

Love, indeed, all, is to all

Sounding sweet, but in reality

Another twisted call

To want a man more beautiful than a lie

That I would live and die for

That I would try and fight for

Is death not an unreality

When the lie has been exposed

It's just all because of the fall

33:33

30 “But as for you, son of man, your fellow citizens who talk about you by the walls and in the doorways of the houses, speak to one another, each to his brother, saying, ‘Come now and hear what the message is which comes forth from the Lord.’ 

31 They come to you as people come, and sit before you as My people and hear your words, but they do not do them, for they do the lustful desires expressed by their mouth, and their heart goes after their gain.  

32 Behold, you are to them like a sensual song by one who has a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument; for they hear your words but they do not practice them.  

33 So when it comes to pass—as surely it will—then they will know that a prophet has been in their midst.”

Ezekiel 33:30-33

liar

The way to a traumatized girl's heart
Is not through her prefrontal cortex.
Just like the way into marriage
Is not through the act of sex

That having said, the mind is complex,
The heart is much simpler.
If your heart was remotely mine,
You'd not even a whimper.

I pray not to end the friendship will end

Never again will the fair weather friend return to the fair with another fairer sex friend whether time will tell or the tie will be severed, you're better off instead as a friendship to mend, than rather defend, the fair weather trend, that the friendship would end that I pray will not end.

She was a beauty

I'm ok being in this cabin fevered spell
You can all just go to hell for all I care
While I spit out this fantasy affair
She was beautiful, I tell you!

She was beauty
I declare...

She was a fair beauty, and it was
too delicate to tell

Like the gentleness you craved
And created
When you did not even know you had it

It's all a myth, for fairies and nuns
And all other imaginative puns
And secrets of society
And stories of suns

To steal you from your reality
To steal your sanity
Like she did mine and had barely even begun...
Oh but it would have been so fun

Scoffers

One day the suckers will dream and the drifters will fly

Just you see, you imminent

Frenzy of foes

You sons of bitches and hoes

Your scoffing will die

Sands

Can you love someone you don't know?

Can you know someone you don't love...

It's a mystery for the steady seeker,

A conundrum that's unspoken of

Rough around the edges say

the ones who've chipped all their teeth away

But polished by the ocean tides

Like the million little sands of time

Are what I’d like to become anyway.

The Chase

You love for a chase

You seek for a thrill

For the one you desire

Won't give in to you still

For the one you despise

Is within your own will

No man will aspire 

Towards what they are not

So maybe there's Nothing

or No one to be caught

Anymore.

One with God

I’m stranger than I ever believed myself to be

Who am I and this raging beast inside of me?

I will trudge on through nights of the starry kind

On a trail that’s hidden from my leery mind

And build Us a lighthouse when the time is right

To guide my fellow sojourners into the light

The fight will subside when I’m in Your arms

Together we’ll be, and forever I’m Yours

The Real Deal

the real deal came up to me and I saw her soul
it shone through the darkness with no effort at all
to free the captives, she had been led through her own
captivity wandered through all the years alone
til stumbled through desert brought her to a throne

she, who finally wanders no longer forsaken
whose trust in her God can no longer be shaken
her eyes could speak louder than a story written or told
they glisten with fire like silver and gold
they behold and behold the beauty of the Lord

Teleporting from one reality to another

I feel like I'm peeling back layers of poorly designed mindscapes that maps out across my inner being, uprooting archaic infrastructure and replacing it with new. I found myself in a cave at moments when the labor was too intense. A cave with writing on the inner walls like instructions left by a negligent mother who abandoned her child with "soup on the stove", it was comforting to retreat to. I was pretending to be sane, although I believe more people are struggling with mental illness than is perceived by the majority.

I used to find patterns everywhere growing up, secret codes in the numbers and symbols in my environment but unable to decipher the heart behind the system. Every rule took a great labor to enforce within myself, meeting a stubborn resistance to realize its purpose, as though my soul was already being ruled by another governmental system and had no room for another. These rules felt like individual assaults on my very being. I couldn't fathom for the longest time that they were components to a necessary larger infrastructure that needed to be laid out within me to allow myself to function according to the greater fabric of nature and society.

There is a brokenness we are all familiar with, should we choose to fully let ourselves experience it. Could I just fall? I had never trusted the laws of aerodynamics long enough to realize they defied the laws of gravity, and now I am faced with the edge of the world...

The Purest

This kind I seek
The slow-to-speak
Whose riches cannot be seen

I hope to meet
Him in discreet
The purest among the keen

Belong

I'm allowed to be free,

Finally allowing myself to feel

This love that belongs to me.

A Secret Garden

There, desires within a secret

Garden

Soberly I seek the strength of your face

I stretch out my life

For Your gentleness

Brand New

I'm a strange rearrangement,
an assortment of esoteric memories
And broken instincts that stutter
a distinct yet familiar beat.

This dark hour of my soul reflects
the world of this hour and
I cannot escape it.
Lonely
Is the jeering silence, fearing
My brave motions towards life.
My heart entangled with lies,
My dance has become, slavery.

Streets strain their necks to hear
the marching steps of a new army
that's coming
like a pack of lions roaring
Making way for a brand new world

Fragile Egos

You can't handle me

That's no problem, we cool

Don't trip honey

We're in this together, a life to remember

Just float on through

Just get through this right.

Over it

I'm going forward damn it

Get out of the way

I'm sick of falling for all of you

False lovers

So I've lost my soul,

Who cares anymore? I've lived it all

to my own destruction

And now I'm deadly

to the lifeless and the sore

I don't care about you all anymore

Time for a New Mind

I'm stained my mind
How long that stayed there, I don't know
But it's taken a while to stick around

I want a new one

A truer mirror

There are endless loops in infinity

So it goes,

A dream I once had, plays over

another dream I once had before, I froze

But I see again my reflection

In a tortured soul like your own,

I see myself deja vu

In yours Staring black tea-stained eyes like mine

hearing the same words I've heard before

Ago, ago, and agos

Why do you revisit me, my old soul?

Through another, like you always would, You would

Reiterate my words, my wounds, my wars

Why do you search for yourself in my soul,

You other?

Feeling, Lord, bring healing to our souls.

Restore us unto the image which we bear

In truth, in Your story

Don't be worried, please. don't be sorry

My brother, my sister, my foe

His image is yours, you are His glory, it is yours.

To behold

FIGHT the urge to judge; she is finding her own canvas

Jesus

Lost in Her Mind

can we find her? the beautiful one

she's nowhere to be found

she's the little one who's gotten lost inside her own mind

I want a friend that sees the freedom that I do

I'm no schizo but a pro

I'm revisiting an old site, filled with land mines

They are silent when they sting

but triumphant as a fearless foe

I've begun to reintroduce to myself the

revelations of old, the Renaissance of reinvention

Renovated the dollar bill

into a sacred mold.

A cipher I've decided,

She is a silent pro

digy diligent, masking her authority

Mindscapes and heroine capes

Flying through a ferocious escape

makes no mistakes

breaks former fakes

Because I'm not lying about my mental escapades.

Just hidden too far down

but eventually find my laugh, spirit-filled.

Glory to the Host

I've witnessed a barrage of westerners

Winging their way into a self-glorified state

of accomplishment,

But they haven't yet dealt with the histories

which their empire is built upon

the bloodstain cries of massacres

And exploitation.

I'm a raw mind now, but these are ideas

you've never thought of

yet

Until they become PROFITABLE to you.

(I'm speaking now) To the host.

Don't it always happen this way.

Anger is a Secondary Emotion

Fine, I'm angry enough to change

I'm settled enough to jump off

I'm free enough to cry

Finally, I'm being myself again.

we're all the same

I'm not that different from you

but you are different from me

I'm not who you think I am

but you are who you think you are What makes

us different from anyone else on the planet?

That one ill girl, she had rashes on her mind

But you still feel she is less than you

You fools

There are no original ideas

Only a perverted sense of ego

a Fair Trade

sometimes, I feel cheated.

that the only

thing I got out of

years

of agony

and hidden

pain

is compassion but then I

remember

that compassion is what fills

Your heart

and that

means

that I am

filled

with Your heart

Known

The best way to know everything

Is to realize that you know nothing

But that the One who knows all

Knows you

afar

I want to be completely honest

I let go of you the moment I saw you

Because I thought memories may wound me again

Like they sometimes do

Though dreams could never revive my hopes

The way God does

I fear

I do dream about you

Traces

Traces of a life

I've yet to exist

Visit me like a vapor

I strain my neck

To capture its thoughts

And discreetly

They fade away

His Voice

I'm brave beneath the mire, You say
Your trust in me produces fire.
I crave Your mysterious touch
Loving me so much, so much
A rush that quenches my deepest desire

My response has never been so right
To the beauty of the face of love

You have found me beautiful in Your sight

And all is well with my soul.

My God

Life is not love without You

The way it's supposed to be

I adore you with all my heart

My beautiful, amazing, brilliant

Maker of the universe

Minority complex

You are just as confused as I am

Don't pretend you know yourself,

You multi-ethnic mutt

We came to the States as beggars

You and I,

So what, you have an American mom.

Aren't we acting for the same crowd?

Feel pressure to perform, do you?

Go ahead, release it

Feel the artificial warmth

of applause and public recognition

To appease your aching minority complex.

We've all got one

Trust in the Lord, you say

What do you have to bring?

A monologue, I'm sure.

Another round of holy applause for this clown, please

"Find your own voice" he tells me.

A helpful young cheek, this one

I find many to be just as helpful.

To the hidden people, whose histories have

Been exploded out of their compacted intestines

Brains ripped out and compartmentalized

Into this damn society's grid.

There is no use for you in this world as you are now

Don't let the accolade fool you.

And yes, I'm passive aggressive.

Deal with it.

God is Jealous

Would a heart that is frozen

Bitterly flowing

Endless reminders of pain



Dare to believe once again

And be revived by

Your name that is Jealousy

I let her go, but she is still with me

Who you are truly

Is

An honest woman of great beauty,

A wife of noble character,

A source of endless maternity.

You are filled with love

Warmth

Mercy

Kindness, justice, an advocate and a faithful

Pillar.

But you lost your way somehow,

Forgot the beginning of life

Forsook the hope in my eyes

Forfeited the rights to my heart.

I forgive you,

To the Father

Who deals with all in His grace and love

I’m sorry you had missed out

On the truth of who you really are

And the rest of us through you

I will remember all the few moments

We had when

You touched my heart, and we bled together.

Deep inside, I know you are still alive

I know you are with me.

I believe we will be who we are

One day.

Invalid

This is the past I say, dare I say

All in the past no more today I feel

no more

You said, don't feel the past

You said, don't feel

The way you feel anymore

Did you hear my voice I ask?

Did you hear your own?

It's never been this open, I tell you

The truth I am

The truth, I am

the truth

You see

Reluctantly

I was so

Lost in what you forgot to see in me

while I was yours to keep, to reflect your self esteem

That you forgot to cry and recall your past, indeed

That you forgot to believe in me

You forgot to believe

in you in me

While you forgot to feel, you killed my love

My dear you killed my love

You fought the will to bleed

While you forgot what's real, you killed my love, my dear

You killed my love

for you for me

What does He see in me

What design did You build in me?
This longing, misdirected,
Silences all devastating pleas.

What fever did You ignite in me
That I would sequester
My own body parts, a gruesome ordeal?
I'd rather bleed and stagger
Than to stumble out of Your presence.

What pleasure do You find in me
That You would remain faithful
To this faithless heart, my Love?

The first to die will live to last

Death I do, this is my deed
Indeed this death, to life I bleed
I bled to life, when blood I took
And take His life for mine to lead

A hope to end all hopes on earth
A life more final than its own birth
is what I've found, the day I died
I denied myself to find my worth

No more pain, hunger or thirst
No longer orphans, no longer cursed
For the first shall fall behind to last
And the last shall be found as first

Love of a child

This one is new, I picked it up from the curb

And waved it to my mother who was waiting by the car door

frowning, dear child what is this dirty thing?

A torn sock, gutted and loosely strung with threads all around

reminded me of a picture book I once read about a raggedy doll

who came to life upon meeting the love of a child.

Perhaps, I thought

if only I could love it, it would come alive!

Love it tried I, my mother disapproved and hurried,

Grumbling under her breath about the junk I brought home.

Why do you like this garbage? Why don't you like new dolls,

like all the other normal children?

I could never stop beaming, the imaginary doll

was already coming to life, buttons and yarn and the whole nine yards.

Loving her! He is such a delight, he's actually beautiful

But mother has plans, and her heart has forgotten what it means

to bring dolls to life. dirty, she mutters

Please don't throw him away

I pleaded

Don't

(because I love him)

I'll throw it away, I promise

But I kept him alive in my drawers

Dancing, and singing, and telling me stories until bedtime

He makes me laugh (I thought to my mother)

but she will never remember the feeling.

He is able to make us stand

Things are beginning to align.
People have said my whole life, "She is a lost cause".
Everytime I hear it, I feel a deep resonance in my soul, something placed in me since birth.
A curse passed down from my origin, speaking of abandonment and futility in love.
Are these people calling out the truth which fits in the cavity of my soul? Or its emptiness?

Be careful what you speak forth.

I am tempted to surrender to this voice, the despair of hopelessness.
"Abandon her for she is abandoned"
(I wonder if this is what you are experiencing, my friend of signs and wonders)
"Abandon her for she will abandon you"

Time has nothing on the Lord.
One day I could be here, the next day I am a thousand years ahead of everyone else.

"But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day."
2 Peter 3:8

Every man

Every man is a new man,
Not one is ever the same again.
No man is himself, but a shadow
Of the man he really is.

Every man is a new man,
That I meet albeit in the same places and the same context
And the same times as before
They all go about, in boyish curiosity
In secret quests and charging pursuits
In sulking defeats and fiery tempers
Satisfied, yet discontent with ambition.

Every man is a new man,
His condition does not define him.
His reason exceeds and tries him.
But faithful he remains to the truths in his heart,
To beat of his own heart.

the Truth is too good

Can't I just stay here with you forever?
You are so good to me. You are so good.
You're everything I need.

How could I have forgotten, slipped for a moment
And decided to take control
Of my own needs, to find a solution for myself?

You take me back
You are my caretaker
You are my lover
You are my all

Psalms 4:4

In your anger do not sin;
when you are on your beds,
search your hearts and be silent.
Selah

My heart is broken and leaking out all over the place.
I'm angry... so angry.
There, I said it.

I guess I WAS hiding.

Mom

I rested this morning before your love became true
A touch on my forehead was the beginning
of Understanding
Everything I had lost since my childhood
You were timid and beautiful,
Yet your softness was foreign.

I felt like you were saying,
"You don't have to beg for my love any longer"
And it took many tears for me to receive it,
Because I didn't realize

That I am still your daughter

Co-dance-pendant

Believe you me,
I know me you
And meanwhile, you mean well
But well is not meant
To replace what is meant to be
Between me and you.

Ursprache

I can't sleep because everyone and everything wants me to be a part of it.
Aching for oneness, the whole entire world.
While it cries "Ursprache" in the belly of the beast.

What needs are so great they would forget how to be met?
What does it see in me that would fulfill its destiny?

A conduit for its passions,
A host for its lust
The Worldly opinion always weighs so heavily upon us
"You must! You must!"

Do I aim for greater things or stand very still
In the sovereignty of time, like the timeless sage
Without a burden of ego or will

Or does My Responsibility carry this burden
To bring forth the new season
with its own manual brute forceful reason?

Perhaps one day the everythings and everyones that ever need me
will trust me to become the me that it never knew would be what it needs.

regenerating

losing effort to keep distance selfish ideologies 

died in heart transition flight posing to wrench 

a precious gem from a desert landscape deep deep
died again and again through each
layer flesh and bones and organs shutting down
cycle growth is sunset sunrise vital rhythm
growth, up up
spinning and shedding infiltrating stratosphere
resonating interdimensional space
between neuropathways and heart beats dance thunder
Stars between feet kind of motion in the ocean
Traversing between mind and matter and all that chatter
babbling Laugh ha ha grow ha
Explode you twinkling eye and wrinkle in time, loved that book
sense is none you happy child awakened wide

sometimes the worst pain is right at that threshold of knowing what is the truth and the best and is love and realizing everything you've ever done to substitute it

and the best feeling is the release
of everything you've used to substitute it
to let in the real thing

Father hope

when I sit here and think about
whether you will ever know
how I felt about you, I would feel a death
Those tired fears exhale gently,
And I'm released.
Strength is the surrender of my soul
to the Lord
to my Lord

the screaming tears are never wet
but they are sweeter than blood
when your wound in me is reopened

I would sacrifice my heart
like you wanted, needed
to make you feel like a man
(you wonder why I would let others)
when your wife could not fulfill that
you could take from three more
three more mothers you would have ravished
to make you whole

Thank God
I am the only one I let you ruin
I say to myself

But it's not enough for my heart to heal
to escape the way I feel
to forget
the heart I had for you before
the yearning and trusting and beautifying
effect your love would have had on me

Would have on me

Has

A tiny, timid, new.....
But I'm afraid to say it

There is no absolute Truth

Because Truth is a Person you have absolute faith in

Life is

A process of translating reality into truth.
Death is the consequence of preferring to settle for a more convenient reality.

Practical advice

Love and nourish the weakest parts of yourself - they are what connects you to the source of Life and communicates the deepest need of humanity. They are the most fought over and highly prized among the heavenly hosts.

Hey me, find yourself!

Tired of cheating to live, lying to be free
Sticking to my guts is about the only
practical advice I can abuse
Genuine love is about the only thing I can refuse

Who am I really, you dear self?

Inside out, you've bled throughout
But your heart is still hiding out
In a cage for someone to unlock,
Or at least be discovered, simply to be

What I think about at least once a day

Where does this sadness come from and how can I make it beautiful?

My lovely sister holds the universe for me, for one morning

Sometimes Life just falls into your lap in a messy, tear-stained heap and you are just supposed to shower it with kisses and hugs and love it.

Before the foundation of the world

I remember a time...

Before the foundation of the world, I sat there in the heavens, basking in His presence and knowing it for eternity as my home. I observed all that was being created by my Father, having myself been created out of a spark in His eye. I knew nothing but pure love and joy and righteousness in the courts of the Lord.

I watched as the beautiful blue globe withdrew further and further away from Him, into the darkness, men in compelling and violent awe of the power of free will given to them. His firstborn turning away even from Him, exhausted from the distance and desirous of the convenient pleasure around them. I watched as the Father wept, and experienced the most sorrowful yearning to ever be felt by anyone, but could not be consoled. He knew he had to feel it. All of us could not bear His heart to be broken. Even then, He was very deliberate in all of His actions, and threw a celebration in the heavens, as He sent His Son down to fulfill the mission of His heart. Even in the place outside of time, we could never cease to be in loving awe of this Entity, the Creator and source of life. It was not possible. The fullness was always understood and accepted.

One morning, I boldly asked the Lord to send me to carry His light onto the lonely ball.

"But they want to know You, they MUST! They just don't know it yet. You can do anything, Father, your heart must be known to all. It is finished!"

"My child, it is a long and weary journey. The message is joyful and my Spirit with you, but the atmosphere will almost kill you. As long as you carry only My burden and walk in my presence, nothing will harm you. Do you want to? You may be tempted to forsake Me"

Perhaps I was eager already, and rushed forward. Perhaps I was excited for the journey, a bit curious but also full of the hope of His glory.

He trusted me, with His message to the world. I was naive, but He knew it was my naivety that was gentle enough to preserve, and the boldness that would see it to the end. Did I have a doubt in my mind? Did I even hesitate? I could never imagine what existence would be like apart from His presence..."I am always with you, I always love you, I always will, as long as I AM," He would tell me but I couldn't fully understand what "always" meant.

I would go through indescribable lengths to remember Him, and He to pursue me...

One thing I know now for sure is that I would have never known Love as much as I do, had I never asked to be born into a world without it.

Multiples

I'm sometimes so afraid to reveal my true self

That it all comes out some other way

I feel like I contain thousands of little children

Each with its own secret

And they know that the Big Mother 

Does not want them to be expressed

They hold secret meetings in large cohorts

To discuss the possible solutions

When a consensus has been reached

They find the strength to defy authority.

Prophecy of the new season

Three paths...
One is short, dark and "low". (Possible marriage)
One is long, "higher" and filled with potential of power, but with a struggle against confusion and a sense of "scrambling" against a glass ceiling. (Urban Planning)
One is the "highest", headed towards a great white orb that melts into an multi-dimensional painting of many interpretations. I am led by the sound of bells. (Bells sounding from the church, the consistent element through an evolving landscape over time). There is peaceful green pasture and I have naturally followed it before I even realized it was right. (Design)

I will be happy.

The eyes of our heart

We have to see and hear with our hearts

Not just with our eyes and ears

Words and arguments are tools, weapons, and fortresses

But only a heart can decipher a heart

Only One

That time hits again.
I've done all I can, and there's still more to do.
I look at the clock, and want to just lay down and sink back into the beginning of time.
I want His presence, where I just know...who He is. Who loves me.
The times I can't seem to find that love for myself from myself, from my family, friends, lover or music, art, food, clothes, images, worldly riches...
There is one who is pure Love, the source, the truth, the one and only...infinite and Good!

I've lost my mind and heart to this Person...
The only Person who deserves to have it all

Childhood thoughts

Culture has always been a major topic for me. I have a lot to say about it, if anyone has an ear to hear. But lately I have not been able to speak about it because of the deep pain interwoven with my story that makes me afraid that people will not want to hear it. I feel rejected when that happens, so I usually just shut down. A couple of trustworthy people I have told, but otherwise I have learned to be silent against my own will...But the power of narrative is that I can become free from all that I have experienced if I just let it out.

I don't even know where to start, but not all stories have a beginning and an end.

I was a happy child, sensitive and bright and always full of joy. All my Sunday school teachers expressed to me how I stood out because of my brightness. My parents told me that as a child, I was adored by everyone at church. I remember being so happy and full...I didn't even know I was Korean until a kid in 1st grade asked me if I was Chinese. I remember answering, "yes" and then coming home to tell my mom who corrected me. She was a hard, quiet lady from that time. I don't remember playing with her much, and she was always distant. She told me once that she didn't talk to me until I was 3 years old when I was singing incoherently to myself and she realized that I was singing the lullaby she sung me to sleep. I remember that song and how dearly I felt towards my mother, and how much I loved her.

Gosh, I loved her so much. I almost forgot that feeling.

The song that was really comforting, she would pat my back as she sung it and it was the most beautiful sound in the world and I always looked forward to that feeling. It was like being inside her heart and feeling the beats, like it was inside her womb. I was a part of her and could have carried the wounds within her and heal it, I knew I had that power, if she wanted to let me. She didn't realize that I was closer to the Great Power above that could heal her, and all she had to do was open. She thought because I was a child, she had to protect me from her emotions. Once in a while, my father would explode on her and then the source of that love would abruptly shut off. I loved my father too, so I just wanted him to be happy with us and love my mom. I remember even when he got really angry and pulled out his belt on me I knew I just had to bear it for a little while until he felt better. I always quickly recovered and showered them with hugs and kisses afterward. I just wanted to let them feel the love I felt.

The rain makes me reflective

I met with an older friend for lunch, and went about my usual ramble with unusual restraint because I recently discovered the significance of narration. I wanted to look through his eyes instead of tell him my view, since I have seen all I could see with my own. I spoke of hopeless and an estranged life, and he spoke of the balance of greater things. I felt so safe in a view which encompassed many sorrows and joys into one story of peace, and a victor. The wisdom that comes from age is too often neglected; it is shelter in a storm.

I went to the beach today, driving up highway 1 north of Santa Cruz. The sky looked unusually large above the freeway, the clouds were majestic and I learned their names. The big white fluffy clouds are Cumulus, the white and dark clouds are Cumulonimbus, and Nimbus are the dark stormy clouds. I thought that it must have reflected God's heart because I once could not believe He had room for me there. While we were quiet in the car listening to the synthetic beat of the music, I remembered the times I had buried myself into a cave of illusions. Raves, they called them, where the music and drugs would artificially weave a harmonious state of mind into the collective conscious and overheated bodies melted deliriously in the corners of the room. There was a deep, subconscious belief that we had to escape reality to experience peace, love, unity, and respect.

We wondered how long it would take to ride the 1 all the way down to Socal as we sliced through the fog that hung so carefully in the trees.

Davenport.

Nimbus clouds were hanging ominously over the distant sea, and two great birds were floating still in the air. There was no other reason for them to be outstretched in the wind, in the same spot for the half hour we were there, except for sport. We huddled in a blanket for warmth but the distant Nimbus clouds had arrived to a spot over us and began to water us furiously. On our way back, we found a hole in the wall Mexican place that was actually a deep cavern for happy hour and I took two shots of tequila for the sake of having no occasion and that it was Wednesday and I'm not employed, dammit. The bartender had deep blue eyes like the beach and talking to her was like splashing in them.

Small group was pleasant because a song was birthed out of a prayer for our brother and the fullness of Spirit was aching to fill him. He was in France for business school and the prestige and academic pressure was depriving him of sleep and community. We let the Spirit express itself through song to feed a hungry orphan. I wish we could have let himself respond with the tears he held back but he was rushed off to another meeting.

The next activity was making collages, and we revisited our 5 year old inner child as we cut and pasted magazine pictures, singing childhood songs and making fun of each other. Children are usually very confident, because they know who they are. It is very powerful in its purity, to simple BE. It is the strongest force in the world to Be Yourself As You Are.

Each person presented in front of the whole group and I was amazed at the depth of each person's soul, although perhaps it wasn't so apparent to anyone else. I was ashamed of mine until it was on display and I had little to say, but everyone came in to fill the silence with their depictions. "You're close to the source of Creation, the Creator. You enjoy making something amazing out of nothing, a true creator. You want to do something beyond this world."

Sometimes it's good to be reminded of who you are.

It is not a game, and the rebound may not win

I guess, love is letting go, a battle of hearts
You cannot win until you lose

If you don't share the vibe, then leave me tonight.
I'd rather be alone
To heal from these wounds upon wounds
Of which you have graduated with honors, a general with medals
As in all the rest of the departments of your life

I don't have the energy to try or to fight,
I've lost it before, and I am in the ward.
It's a sick sick world out there
I am but one casualty, invalid
Can't you see what you're dealing with?

The smell of anesthesia fills the air, but we're all still aching in here
Leaving me but the inside of my eyelids
To agree with sound of the promise
Beating underneath the bandages, summoning
The day that I see the sky again

Home

I thought about my parents' careful house, the stillness and the silence as the three of us crept along the dusted furniture and the vacuumed carpets - as though we did not so much occupy the space as move within it like stealthy lodgers. If you left a glass on the kitchen counter for more than five seconds my mother would whisk it away, wiping up the wet ring on the Formica with a furious sweep of her sponge. Covering out tracks, removing evidence of ourselves. It seemed to me we apologized for our very existence in the very way we lived, bowing and ducking as though to escape the notice of some vengeful god. It wasn't life that was lived there, but eternal penitence.

~Katherine Min, excerpt from Secondhand World

Beauty

I wondered what being beautiful had done for my mother other than give her no direction in which to gaze but into her own reflection. The state of being beautiful was indiscriminate; it was there for peasants and kings. You couldn't reclaim it for yourself. You could hide it under chador or veil, but it would be there still, more enticing for its secrecy.

The state of being unbeautiful was a more exacting affair. If a man found you attractive, you knew it must be so, that he must have looked hard and long to see something within you and was not just another wistful aesthete panting after loveliness.

I was suddenly glad I wasn't beautiful, that I didn't suffer my mother's misfortunes of vanity, her disappointment in how far beauty could get you, which was, in truth, not as far as one might imagine.

~Katherine Min, excerpt from Secondhand World

Limerick for the Narcissist

Scrupulous, the work of an arrogant loner.

He becomes vulnerable to all sorts of murmur,

Apprehensively seeking a crowd

To approve him being allowed

To be considered his own intellect's owner.

It's funny how much we can assume we are lonely
When all we are is undiscovered.

Someone called me a jerk today.

For deciding not to go party with them.
It got me thinking. What is a jerk?

(1) a contemptibly naive, fatuous, foolish, or inconsequential person.
(2) a quick, sharp pull, thrust, twist, throw, or the like; a sudden movement.
(3) any sudden, quick movement of the body, as in dodging something.

To sum up,
A naive fool who likes to suddenly thrust away from or dodge the current of the present world, pursuing its opposite direction.

It made me think...
Can you define someone by their movement? Or do you define them by their mass?
A feather in a vacuum falls at the same speed as a bowling ball in a vacuum.
Too bad we can't test all our theories in a perfect vacuum, to treat all mass equally.
At the speed of light, mass increases and becomes a relative mass.
As I move towards the speed of light, I don't even notice that I am becoming larger, otherworldly, and incomparable to stagnant masses. The light defines me.

It makes me realize that no matter what, I will be offensively large to some people who have decided to stay in the same place forever. And my movement might make someone uncomfortable.

Absently used

I am not my own
& I am not yours
I am but alone
But I am not yet one

Our hips align before
Our hearts even decide
There is nothing more
Nothing more resides

Did we hit the finish line
Before we even tried
You're laughing as I cry
You leave me out to dry

The Surburban cement-scape is becoming all too familiar to me in its brutally vacant rawness.
Everyday I wake up to a window with a humble tree tending to quiet sky-whispers, on a tiny plot of grass adjacent to the sea of asphalt. It is a daily reminder of the taxes which are rendered to Caeser, which goes into the infrastructure of the world's most cruel and backwards economy. So all flamboyant illustrations aside, it gets really tiring to drive from place to place, connected to a cellphone to direct my next destination. Intellectualizing the concept of 'space' and 'property' can relieve the tension, but only produces wormwood juice. Maybe it's relevant, but I can talk to myself using a string of disjointed climax thoughts which conceals the valleys in between, pretending to be expressing the highest truths when my fellow vessel detects a desperate scramble within my deepest being for connection and release. I have the most curious ability to detach and then reattach to humanity, but I often pass it by without notice, until my hunger pulls me back. The hunger is so human, and it aches for the purest divinity, but my appetite has been trained to receive an unnatural diet. If humanity were like the natural landscape over which we've piled layers of cement over in order to transport these steel modules which carry money-driven motivations and other fragments of illusions to build the Babylonian empire, as my heart of flesh has been paved over with stone, then where can it find the tiny crack through which a strong vine can break through and all the organic creatures of the earth can find refuge and life in its Majestic, Eternal Growth? Our hunger is this crack. I must'nt neglect this tiniest, lowest voice of my spirit whose cry is for the Vine.

Truth before love. Love based on truth.
Please touch me, hold me, be held by me. Frosting, sweets, junk love.
Growl, I bite you! Wild beasts roam, without a master.
Control is not love.

I'm holding onto the words surrounding you, like an aura and a veil.
Do you love me? My hope fills me with desire
Yet you desire to be desireless
Listen to me, wait for me, care to build me up.
Love builds up, but knowledge puffs up.
When the perfect comes, the imperfect will fade away.
Such is the glory of man.

The glory of man is a woman.
Who was deceived, and caused both to fall into temptation.
Fall of mankind, separation from God.
Who am I to separate man from God?

lonely togetherness

We entered in the new world, together
We ached for the land subdued
You swaggered to its coasts while I dug the soil
It was within our grasp
But distant
And words themselves were unattached, as ships
Without a captain on an unmapped region
Tossed and pulled by an earthly force
To attach our souls.
We held our bodies together, but our minds apart
Sending pieces of our hearts
On the ships across the reckless storm.
Upon receiving news of one, the other's
Yearning is temporarily soothed.
The solitude is gentle but mournful.

I birthed inspiration
last night. The contractions were less severe than usual,
Though it took a little while
The world formed a membrane around my imagination
and my joy was beginning
to suffocate.
I was tempted to plunge into the fog
where there is refuge from reality. Returning
to slumber, to the womb.

I lie awake, and unsullied

Willing to succumb to my mother's heartbeat
Reverberating throughout the cavern of ambition, where corpses of
Ill-timed dauntless pioneers have long since dehydrated

And the newest ones
swell their elastic skins in anticipation
Of liberation

Open and breathe, there is no darkness
Where we are going
In the flow, blowing through the cobwebs
And dust

The man of earth

We chimed the stars with our talk of destiny
Staring into its reflection on the twilight sea
Letting the roots unfurl into our flesh
And the branches intertwine.
You pinched its fruit for ripeness,
And the ripest ones descended from above your reach.

You traveled so far a distance, a sage
Communing with the leaves

Flower beds and snowy peaks cradled a lonely search
For the depths of richness, transcending the eye

Hungrier, still but you searched granite faces
Across mountain ridges
For a sign of divine compassion upon an earthly man.
The surface has yet to be pierced.

Cling

The hardened heart shatters my tongue
I taste the distance with my feet when I
Cling to the Love that binds for eternity

Spirit life

That flesh were mist, I could vanish when you exhale.
Open hearts lay bleeding on the surgeon's table
As He cuts away the garment of flesh.
That hope is reality, I walk on the waves when He calls.
Shadows respond to death, but my spirit responds to Life.
This Life has a name.

burdened

I woke up crying this morning because I was hurting from being in studio all week and weekend, sick and burdened. During our final reviews, the professors were critiquing our diagrams and axonometrics. After two and a half hours of painstakingly poring over each individual's work, as I was feverishly praying to Jesus to calm the storm in my head, they give us a break. I rush back to the studio to finish off the rest of what I needed and pinned it up. My work looks sickly and underfed, like myself. It's time for me to present, so I take a deep breath and exhale a stream of consciousness that seems to disturb the female professor, who frowns at me like I am a weed in a bed of beautiful budding sprouts. The class is a set of chess pieces. They are gentle with their criticisms, although I can feel their disappointment and I meekly nod at their suggestions. Of course, yes, I can do better, I will work harder. I can do that.

There is something serene to the surrender of my ambition to excel in this class. I used to be able to harness this energy, but I have grown beyond the point of grasping these fine hairs of theoretical education. The people in the class are brilliant and focused, but I cannot match their energy. I surrender to God, who is powerful above all authorities and thrones, and He is meek and humble. I find rest.

Z comes by, to give me acupuncture and we have a light conversation about people, thoughts about each other, some words of comfort. I am distraught, but I do not reveal it to him because he does not react well to anything that will upset his balance. I wonder if that will do well for our future. Perhaps I must struggle with this alone. Perhaps this is good for me. I am still learning a lot about myself. I cannot let fearful attraction be the center of my relationship with him.

A good friend comes over for a little while, and he is searching for something as well. It comes out reflectively through tranquil illustrations and observations. He describes a snapshot: A boy with a red helmet stand before his reflection in the pool. He holds an old yellow tether ball, and the pool reflects the blue sky. I want to know about this boy's life, but my friend does not want to put all of his cards on the table. We play with my prism glasses for a while, trailing our rainbow shattered fingers over the light. He ponders on how every experience with a friend may be the last one. I can see how much he has grown.

My inspiration washed over me like a sudden rising of tide, but I lost my grip and let it pass.
Lately, my thoughts have all been tied to the ocean. I wish I could open my heart to him, but I still haven't cracked the code myself.

I'm wasting time on the computer, blogging about my day. I have lots of projects due tomorrow, yet I am not alarmed by the amount of work due and am waiting to become desperate. It is the remnants of my self-destructive patterns, which are slowly washing away with the tide.

The Ocean

He tells me to enjoy life, it's like ice cream that must be consumed before it melts.
The dog barks, and splashes water from his bowl all over the sidewalk, the same place
where we played a silent game. Eye Heart You.

He can wink with his eyes closed.
Some people have a neurotic psyche, and you don't want to stare them in the eyes for too long.
Berkeley bums have hungry eyes, searching for the deeper nourishment seated within the hearts of tender humans. Sometimes I am running low myself, and I hoard my grain. I find out it is safe to share.

My knees have been less pained because he tells me to adjust my walking. I love my feet now, because he kisses them. I love myself now, because he kisses me. I want to teach him how to swim properly, even though he surfs. I want the ocean to remind him of me.

Accepted by God

Telling myself I won't go back,
I won't go back.
It's so beautiful, the mirage.
It's so devastating, the brimstone.
If I lose my saltiness, will the Lord turn me into salt?

But I'd rather be a fig tree,
Whom the Lord walked under one day,
Nourished by my fruit.

I can already hear the words you will use,
Ignorant, Fixated, Brainwashed.
But do you question why my heart turns away from
A seemingly good thing?
I have tasted better.

I hear His voice, and it is Life.
Truth, Flowing, and Free.

Shadow of God

There I go again, stumbling over myself
Retracing the steps of my childhood,
Fixed upon a mirror.
Captivated by Vanity's lies,
I forget the unseen reality in which I have been born.

Are you in love with my shadow?
Why do you beckon, when you want so much
To discard your own?

But I will never forget the day
My shadow met you, and we danced for a little while
In the reflection of a promise
Until my spirit realized that without God,
Nothing is perfect.

Free will

Your inspiration comes from the mountains and the moon
The ocean carries your desire, you ride her passion
Carving her body with your strength
All your life's momentum, released in a crashing moment
To discover your own depth.

How you carved through life, caught the waves from my heart
And translated it into another challenge.
You spoke to the waves, though they did not reply...
You did not wait for it. You could not obey.

How I wanted to speak!
But I've come to understand that I have no command
Over my own heart,
As of all realities. My waves gently lap your legs
As your face sets with the sun, hardened with determination
The water undulates from the rhythm of divinity
As you skillfully ride on your balance, exhilarated

I am engulfed by my own desire to have you
But you are but a man.

I have already been tamed once,
by one whose voice the wind and waves obey.
Under his command, I am in eternity
And one with the sky...
There is no other.

I beg the Master to change the seasons,
To unite us, to consume a man, defy your will
He tells me that He has given every man the universe
To discover Him, and the right to deny.
Now I am silenced once again, compelled to wait
As love does
For you, for you, for you
to discover the Author of the mountains, moon, and ocean.

The Lord is gracious and merciful;
Slow to anger and great in lovingkindness.
The Lord is good to all,
And His mercies are over all His works.

Psalms 145:8-9