......................................................................
mine assembly follows closely
my blood even closer
thy wood strangely familiar
bright tree of steel intrigued her
holding fire like the night
thy stag white as powder
leaps and strides ever faster
mine assembly falls asunder
whilst my sisters rise above them
holding fire like the night
thy wish that would be ours
finds ourn eyes wooded deeply
caught beyond this world and thine
and the heart that would be mine
holding fire like the night
........................................................................
Friday, December 16, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
untamed
old thoughts rekindled by a sweet movie
-----------------------------------------
opaque his lens his own shape
it seems is trapped in cube
as you feel compressed
as a diamond is beautiful
he can see her art
and marvel he may
while keeping those demons
as the Lion's mane
draws warmth from their Love
buttons and zippers
and catalog flippers
and all the lines of the cliche
lip service burn from anxious
tongues of fire
sky of blue under Aslan's
mountain lies life of good and
evil too preoccupied with themselves
to see it pass
so time will come unknown
to most the vex will resound
while father pride will wither
to be destroyed for
He is not a tame Lion.
-----------------------------------------
opaque his lens his own shape
it seems is trapped in cube
as you feel compressed
as a diamond is beautiful
he can see her art
and marvel he may
while keeping those demons
as the Lion's mane
draws warmth from their Love
buttons and zippers
and catalog flippers
and all the lines of the cliche
lip service burn from anxious
tongues of fire
sky of blue under Aslan's
mountain lies life of good and
evil too preoccupied with themselves
to see it pass
so time will come unknown
to most the vex will resound
while father pride will wither
to be destroyed for
He is not a tame Lion.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
tailgate imperfection
as stated in my world renown literary masterpiece, No Boat... - I am obsessive.
and so at the moment the subconscious obsession that has leaked into my attention is the wearing of objects. looking at things around me and seeing how they've deviated aesthetically from the way they were made and how that makes them what they are.
prime example, and frankly the event that cast the observation into obsession, was the tailgate of a really old ford pickup. as i followed behind the truck under the greenlight, the light of dusk lit the tailgate in such a way that i could see all its imperfections. the paint chipped from the edges of the FORD lettering. the scraps from trailers, fishing boats or who knows accentuated the imperfection. i found the whole piece to be fascinating. if i could have stopped the truck w/o getting beat up, i would have offered him money for it.
and as i write of my flippant observation, i'm reminded that all the imperfections in our lives are seen by one that has had this obsession for centuries. Christ's Love in spite of, and i think sometime because of, our imperfection could never seem so sweet. so i go on and wear at the world and lately my guitar to realize over and over again that rubs, scraps, gashes, cuts, chips and other blemishes only amplify the power and intensity of Christ's Love for me.
and so at the moment the subconscious obsession that has leaked into my attention is the wearing of objects. looking at things around me and seeing how they've deviated aesthetically from the way they were made and how that makes them what they are.
prime example, and frankly the event that cast the observation into obsession, was the tailgate of a really old ford pickup. as i followed behind the truck under the greenlight, the light of dusk lit the tailgate in such a way that i could see all its imperfections. the paint chipped from the edges of the FORD lettering. the scraps from trailers, fishing boats or who knows accentuated the imperfection. i found the whole piece to be fascinating. if i could have stopped the truck w/o getting beat up, i would have offered him money for it.
and as i write of my flippant observation, i'm reminded that all the imperfections in our lives are seen by one that has had this obsession for centuries. Christ's Love in spite of, and i think sometime because of, our imperfection could never seem so sweet. so i go on and wear at the world and lately my guitar to realize over and over again that rubs, scraps, gashes, cuts, chips and other blemishes only amplify the power and intensity of Christ's Love for me.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
lately i've had the most overwhelming...
urge to play blues/jazz w/ just a bass and drummer. i'm not sure why. but man to get my junk together and lay in on some grooves would do it for me... know what i mean? jazz bar, 2 hr set, colourful, feeling it out... yeah. back to work.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
to future's concrete Propaganda
a friend of mine doesn't buy this heavy output of future's importance. right now there's things to do, people to help, lives to save and/or hearts to mend. to bereave time and the hearts of people i love seems to be what i fall into. i'm either too caught up in my world or looking too hard to future's propaganda of utmost importance. there's no future, at least not yet, so maybe i should let my heart and the Word determine it. and let my past speak on its own. use the present to reveal my love. its a hard look to delve into my actions and see how they speak about my heart. i think i'll do that. if i believe my friend's heart and life and death, then shouldn't my feet and hands sing louder than my guitar?
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
of john's first letter
there is no fear in love. but perfect love drives out fear, for we fear punishment. the one who fears is not made perfect in love. we love because He first loved us.
Friday, August 19, 2005
no boat...
i am niles.
i am loved.
i am married.
i am a friend.
i am a stranger.
i am a musician.
i am arguably the best guitarist ever known.
i am obsessive.
i am a bad story teller.
i am thus a bad blogger.
i am broken from the fall.
i am being repaired daily.
i am trying to be better than you.
i am trying to stay in the boat.
i am trying to push others out.
i am not getting it.
there is no boat.
---------------------------------------------------
new blog, old intro.
i am loved.
i am married.
i am a friend.
i am a stranger.
i am a musician.
i am arguably the best guitarist ever known.
i am obsessive.
i am a bad story teller.
i am thus a bad blogger.
i am broken from the fall.
i am being repaired daily.
i am trying to be better than you.
i am trying to stay in the boat.
i am trying to push others out.
i am not getting it.
there is no boat.
---------------------------------------------------
new blog, old intro.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
making a playlist
a kidron psalmist
created a playlist
of songs for all to hear.
they listened closely
and sipped on their coffee
looking to settle near,
but music they heard
and strangely it turned
to dust before their ears.
for sound without meaning
sans Christ we retreat to
resounding empty fear.
created a playlist
of songs for all to hear.
they listened closely
and sipped on their coffee
looking to settle near,
but music they heard
and strangely it turned
to dust before their ears.
for sound without meaning
sans Christ we retreat to
resounding empty fear.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
sometimes...
sometimes i think life's complexity
is our way of making the simple
fit the human condition.
don't you think?
i also think that statements
that are so melodramatic
should be restricted to
the afternoon.
but that just me.
is our way of making the simple
fit the human condition.
don't you think?
i also think that statements
that are so melodramatic
should be restricted to
the afternoon.
but that just me.
Monday, June 27, 2005
a new york night in memphis
new york boarded
her plane landed
and the taxi driver hit
on her, different than
the others he fit
in his car thus far
later on
its colder at home
she thought over lipstick
he should have known
she'd be late to this
meeting for dinner over blues
the next
song that played
told stories that seemed
too closely relayed
their thoughts intercede
silently connected
to each other
this seemed normal
to wait your entire life
to travel and be formally
introduced to the sight
and touch that would be
the rest of your life
her plane landed
and the taxi driver hit
on her, different than
the others he fit
in his car thus far
later on
its colder at home
she thought over lipstick
he should have known
she'd be late to this
meeting for dinner over blues
the next
song that played
told stories that seemed
too closely relayed
their thoughts intercede
silently connected
to each other
this seemed normal
to wait your entire life
to travel and be formally
introduced to the sight
and touch that would be
the rest of your life
Friday, June 24, 2005
a memphis breakfast in new york
memphis boarded
the airplane, his window lies
next to winged freedom that flies
overlooking memphis skies
gently fading to the night
later on
the drive to his hotel
racking his mind as to what she'll
be wearing with her coffee and bagel
making early conversation as their inhibitions fell
the next
morning came off sweetly
she had the omelet, hold the meat
he had the peppered ham to eat
they watched the people, hardly speaking
to each other
this seemed normal
waiting your entire life to travel
one thousand and ninety-eight miles
only to be more entangled
in a beloved silent lovesong
the airplane, his window lies
next to winged freedom that flies
overlooking memphis skies
gently fading to the night
later on
the drive to his hotel
racking his mind as to what she'll
be wearing with her coffee and bagel
making early conversation as their inhibitions fell
the next
morning came off sweetly
she had the omelet, hold the meat
he had the peppered ham to eat
they watched the people, hardly speaking
to each other
this seemed normal
waiting your entire life to travel
one thousand and ninety-eight miles
only to be more entangled
in a beloved silent lovesong
Friday, June 17, 2005
wild inside...
"Such a horrible idea has come into my head, Su."
"What's that?"
"Wouldn't it be dreadful if some day in our own world, at home, men started going wild inside, like the animals here, and still looked like men, so that you'd never know which were which?"
"We've got enough to bother about here and now in Narnia," said the practical Susan, "without imagining things like that."
-Prince Caspin, Lewis
"What's that?"
"Wouldn't it be dreadful if some day in our own world, at home, men started going wild inside, like the animals here, and still looked like men, so that you'd never know which were which?"
"We've got enough to bother about here and now in Narnia," said the practical Susan, "without imagining things like that."
-Prince Caspin, Lewis
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
thy stag
mine assembly follows closely
my blood even closer
thy wood strangely familiar
bright tree of steel intrigued her
holding fire like the night
thy stag white as powder
leaps and strides ever faster
mine assembly falls asunder
whilst my sisters rise above them
holding fire like the night
thy wish that would be ours
finds ourn eyes wooded deeply
caught beyond this world and thine
and the heart that would be mine
holding fire like the night
my blood even closer
thy wood strangely familiar
bright tree of steel intrigued her
holding fire like the night
thy stag white as powder
leaps and strides ever faster
mine assembly falls asunder
whilst my sisters rise above them
holding fire like the night
thy wish that would be ours
finds ourn eyes wooded deeply
caught beyond this world and thine
and the heart that would be mine
holding fire like the night
Friday, May 27, 2005
untamed
opaque his lens his own shape
it seems is trapped in cube
as you feel compressed
as a diamond is beautiful
he can see her art
and marvel he may
while keeping those demons
as the Lion's mane
draws warmth from their Love
buttons and zippers
and catalog flippers
and all the lines of the cliche
lip service burn from anxious
tongues of fire
sky of blue under Aslan's
mountain lies life of good and
evil too preoccupied with themselves
to see it pass
so time will come unknown
to most the vex will resound while
father pride will wither
to be destroyed for
He is not a tame Lion.
it seems is trapped in cube
as you feel compressed
as a diamond is beautiful
he can see her art
and marvel he may
while keeping those demons
as the Lion's mane
draws warmth from their Love
buttons and zippers
and catalog flippers
and all the lines of the cliche
lip service burn from anxious
tongues of fire
sky of blue under Aslan's
mountain lies life of good and
evil too preoccupied with themselves
to see it pass
so time will come unknown
to most the vex will resound while
father pride will wither
to be destroyed for
He is not a tame Lion.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
allegory
"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I...could I...would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to...do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings as emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.
It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion...no one who had seen his stern face could do that...and her mind suddenly made itself up. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst as once.
-The Silver Chair, Lewis
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I...could I...would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to...do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings as emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.
It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion...no one who had seen his stern face could do that...and her mind suddenly made itself up. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst as once.
-The Silver Chair, Lewis
Monday, May 16, 2005
numenous bloom
you think he's proud of the ambient glow of life that riddles his earth? or saddened by the vast number of glowworms that refuse thier heritage? in fact, i'm not blind yet, from the light i mean...but oh how my heart longs for the numenous bloom of eternal sunshine of which blindness is the only outcome; and the loss of sight brings the realization of truth and faith in which Love binds in unadulterated accord. my appetite for revolution is mounting. we store up courage awaiting the perfect timing of Love and its course in us; in such a time that Love may inhabbit this world. forasmuch as you're human - your call will be one to change your state of invisible apathy to absolved joy. can you see its radience, its passion, its love?
Monday, May 02, 2005
miller time
imagine adam and eve and how they were moment to moment; every second of their existence validated, motivated, animated by the Love of God. they had no concern about their person; they didn't even know they were naked. the Love of God was not a commodity, it was life... it told them who they were. they were creation and in perfect relationship with the creator. when sin crept into the garden, this connection was broken... no longer having God breathe life into their every moment... they now looked at each other and noticed something very different... they're alone. and... naked. now we strive for Love... for worth and value in any form from any entity, save God-this being the essence of sin... but all have one thing in common: the goal. to be deemed worthy to remain in the boat... to be alive... i find myself trying to find it in being the better musician, appearing more wealthy than others, wanting to be more popular among my surrounding peers or friends.... even deeper... by trying to be more spiritual, smarter, more read... godly. this is why we need.... this is why i need Jesus. to show me how to live without a boat... to find my worth in His Love and purpose within His Will. and wean me off the kind of existence that holds me to being better than the next person in order to stay in the boat. God is constantly refining my view of humanity as i fall right out of the boat. good thing Jesus can walk on water, huh?
Thursday, April 28, 2005
no boat...
i am niles.
i am loved.
i am married.
i am a friend.
i am a stranger.
i am a musician.
i am arguably the best guitarist ever known.
i am obsessive.
i am a bad story teller.
i am thus a bad blogger.
i am broken from the fall.
i am being repaired daily.
i am trying to be better than you.
i am trying to stay in the boat.
i am trying to push others out.
i am not getting it.
there is no boat.
i am loved.
i am married.
i am a friend.
i am a stranger.
i am a musician.
i am arguably the best guitarist ever known.
i am obsessive.
i am a bad story teller.
i am thus a bad blogger.
i am broken from the fall.
i am being repaired daily.
i am trying to be better than you.
i am trying to stay in the boat.
i am trying to push others out.
i am not getting it.
there is no boat.
Monday, April 25, 2005
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