silentverse's Xanga

songs and sonnets : i

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 22:46:26 GMT

Why when words thought divine imbued project
from lips, intent to turn a sinner's heart,
mirrored shards straight fly to blind and reflect
not you but me: adjudge the work you start?

So easily disfigured in the head
does your appeal in me pervert your plans.
A force to cut and burn, divorce and wed,
an edge of knife you leave to child's hands,

a daggered gift: yet still you give to all.
Will mercy let my words be short and few,
or cut the mouth to save a brother's fall?
Else, then turn my heart to beast before you

tongued; wherefore if my heart condemns me thus
there dwells a greater word with sharper thrust.

psalm 39
psalm 73: 22
mark 9: 43
romans 14: 21
2 cor 5: 20
1 john 3: 20
rev 19: 21

Monday, November 12, 2007

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 02:16:21 GMT

[unfolded imaginative being]

expand the imagination,
divest into supernal realms,
ascending and descending into, deeper spaces,
above and beneath our own.

                                 I

a movement still, may be,
on single axis remain. yet
an open mind reveals a motion,
along a different edge.
a perpendicular eye unveils, a growing
present in the creases of the head,
deep, and only being by renewing, of the mind.¹

                                 II

our stationed thoughts on ground,
sit tethered by a centered earth, yet
a half a million stars remind,
gravity's unfaithful hold on men's
constellations, yearning chests, and souls.

the same expansive sight,
of sky,
and whim,
lights the crests and troughs
at night. at the dock our human thoughts remain
in patience
seeking,
reaching
   for the fainted shimmers
beyond arm's length.

                                 III

in our sleep
a celestial wind, blows and blows
   beyond any earthly compass,
through our windows, past the doors,
    divining thinkings, throats, and rooms.²
this common grace intercedes, innate,
ubiquitous at birth. at night,
    all young men see visions, and
    all old men dream dreams.³

but are we stuck, to common fate,⁴
to wake to live on windless plane?
   where mortal winds die in time, in space,
   and speak in only one direction,
     the air that carries our hearts away at night,
     still blows even in the waking life.

                                 ...

for if we have hands to reach away,
and eyes to see horizons, burning far,
why should our souls remain in place by day?

am i a timid heart, too small to mind
a life possible,

with spirit underneath,⁵
with unfurled sails, untethered seeing,
an imagined being, meant
to float to outer spaces

-

1. Romans 12:2
2. "Divine." originally "to make out by supernatural insight," early 14c., from L. divinus (see divine (adj.)), which also meant "soothsayer." Hence, divination (c.1374), from O.Fr., from L. divinationem (nom. divinatio) "the power of foreseeing, prediction," from divinatus, pp. of divinare, lit. "to be inspired by a god."
3. Acts 2:17
4. "Stuck." "unable to go any further," 1885, from pp. of stick (v.). Colloq. stuck-up "assuming an unjustified air of superiority" is recorded from 1829.
5. "Spirit." (Heb. ruah; Gr. pneuma), properly wind or breath. In 2 Thess. 2:8 it means "breath," and in Eccl. 8:8 the vital principle in man. It also denotes the rational, immortal soul by which man is distinguished (Acts 7:59; 1 Cor. 5:5; 6:20; 7:34)

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 20:35:07 GMT

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Sun, 23 Sep 2007 18:15:02 GMT


champaign urbana from all that dwells below the sky, and from shore to shore, our hearts that fill all things, remain suspended, sitot qu'on le touche il resonne.	has good soil .

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Tue, 28 Aug 2007 11:07:59 GMT

at night,
                 we saw,

the most glorious wondrous
                   terrific celestial most
   beautiful being of all,

blankets, and pillows, tea, and their graves,
                                               a lunar eclipse!

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Sun, 26 Aug 2007 20:21:54 GMT

people creating what they were created to create: the most beautiful, my eyes have seen.

coffee houses, swing dancing, boba tea, the intimate vibrations of a guitar, our pairs of steps strolling at night, a musical, and infinite people, moon light drifting home, chocolat, phantom fingers singing operas to pianos, finding the dock where clouds depart from one another, piano keys for every one we saw, book shopping, a hot phone, film club and its funny laughers, waiting in music, a bike auction, doodling behind people's faces, friends baking, terrariums, your initials embedded in the world, and watching rain.

when you pray you sound like you're crying. when you cry you sound like you're praying.

i'd hold a scrabble box all night to remember everything.

i am happy being.

(by the way, the predatory wasps of the palisades is out to get us, and i can't explain the state that I'm in.)

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Tue, 21 Aug 2007 17:59:40 GMT

i enjoy being in the presence of people. it's the spaces they leave behind, i think. i'm afraid i should be more friendlier at times. there's room to grow. but i like being where i am. it's enough for me, just knowing people here, exist.

that's what heaven is like, isn't it? knowing someone who was always there.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Thu, 02 Aug 2007 09:26:41 GMT

a song broke through the head at night. my try at violin and wind chimes. (i don't think i will ever know how truly off the violin sounds!) ((but)) at night everything seems better:

"amália"

by del rosario henri

we move. like snow
we shape, the night

our words. like tides
our spaces, left in sand

my hands. like light
your water, runs through

we leave. like wind
our steps, sail behind

in other news, school is approaching. is it not egotistical to play all the instruments in a song? i am in dire need of a drummer (or a pop beat making machine thing), a synthesizer player, a bass player, a cellist, an actual violinist, or possibly a xylophonist, or a trumpeter, or a bell person (who uses epic deep bells), definitely some prayers and forgiveness.

o yea, i got new kicks!

o yea.

(as i am presupposing that no one really reads this xanga, it makes me feel more comfortable to say: that i am: occupied with: au revoir simone (which sound like freezepop), the darjeeling limited coming out in sept, make magazine, daniel radcliffe's acting in the december boys trailer, and notions involving me, my hands, and a synthpop beat.)

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Tue, 17 Jul 2007 08:11:17 GMT

super cool.

i think my hands are more fickle than my heart!

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Sun, 24 Jun 2007 00:38:52 GMT

recovering from wisdom teeth surgery is very exhausting. i feel like a single iron filing in a vacuum of gigantic dimensions with no magnetic field to point me in any direction. right now i am: being consoled by: thinking in the shower, eating bagels, the therapeutic hand washing of dishes, japanese ska bands, and picking the callouses off of my fingertips.

i am in the middle of three books, a stenciled t-shirt, two guitar recordings, a drawing, a painting, two html layout designs, and my room. nothing ever finishes. everything pretends to start. i really don't know what i'm doing here.

i've slept for three days and i still feel the soreness in the back of my mouth.

someone should tell me to read the bible or shoot a gun so that i can start running. without thinking.

(note: i'm really into jesus and mary chain by the way. i don't know why. felt like it was important to say that. imagined it so maybe.)