Snared by Introspection

Snared by introspection, with no thought of a way out

paradoxically, you find yourself finding yourself

Your thoughts focus more on you

Your problems and flaws

A mess that is now beyond your control,

but you see how you could have played out each scenerio differently

The stupid things said and done  reversed; or erased by apology

Speculation has you  ossified by what you could have done,

But you know it's too late, the moment is gone.

Your recalcitrance won, or got the the best of you

And right on queue, the thought of what to do.

In this psycological world of yours, where you were the solution,

You are also the problem, the variable that let the world down.

The consequence gone if you were not to be found;

The question becomes, to flee from what you are responsible

or are mearsues more drastic what is called for?

So you plot, scheme, connive, the how to

on eliminating this problem of you.

As this crescendo of thought begins to spill into action,

"Excuse me" comes an interjection.

This self-centered place that you built is a fantasy,

and you don't belong here, you belong to Me.

You see, I formed you from My heart

You are a priceless work of art, carefully wroght by My skilled hands.

And while it frustrates your plans,

I came tonight as your redeemer,

So put the fantasy down, and cling to Me.

I have for you still plans and destiny.

And while elusive is  an explanation,

That night I was freed from the snare of introspection.

Unrequited

To win your love

I wish I had words to say

That pulled heartstrings like Michael Bible.

Or I would just hold your hand on a warm summer day. 

I would twirl you around as the swing music plays. 

Oh, to see your sweet smile as we talk face to face. 

So why is it I just turn Away? 

I'm afraid you'd reject me, and leave me ashamed. 

And my stupid pride doesn't want to lose face. 

To confess how I feel leaves me vulnerable. 

And the scars of the past say that's intolerable. 

They tell me a fall is inevitable. 

I'm sorry to be so cynical. 

But love unrequited is all I've known. 

I apologize this piece is not really uplifting.  I have had the beginning of it stuck in my head for some time,  in various phrasings.  I wanted a kind of cute romantic poem, but reality  let me know that all I have known is delusion when it comes to relationships with any girl I have had a crush on.   I either shut up, and become very serious with everything,  or I act like I'm in 2nd grade.  I find it pretty much impossible to "be myself".  It's remarkably frustrating to deal with,  so I let cynicism run its course and then I don't have to change. 

 More apologies,  

Isaac 

A Place called Home

You say you want to go home,

as if it were a location.

You make the place the affiliation of an affection that you hold.

But if I may be so bold.

A place called home can't be put in physical parameters,

the scenes you know, or the bed you hold so dear.

If only it's definition were so clear.

But home is more from the associations you make,

and a love that you take with you.

And to many or few, that love that you show will carry your home

beyond borders, cultures and customs.

For your heart may lay in many a place

for while you were away you embraced something bigger than your own creed.

And I pray your path lead you in such a way,

that your faith grow, to carry the love that you have known

to those without hope,

And among those you find

A place called home.

This piece, without fail takes me back to the feeling of lostness and depression that comes over me when returning from a missions trip. I wrote this on my return flight from being in San Quentin, Baja California. I had been there to help with KFN Mexico, and I left a little bit of my heart there. 

Part of the inspiration was being irritated with the people on my team talking about how ready to be home they were, to have their own bed again. I don't understand them, and admit I make little effort to. I feel like life is best lived beyond your own culture, when you learn to see the world through a second cultural lens. It's not an easy road, but the sheer beauty of it makes it worth the hardship.     

My dear...

Sometimes you just have to make a public declaration  of how you feel.

When I see you in the morning,

It fills me with joy,

a boyish giddiness overtakes me

as I hold you,

your body the work of an artist,

I hold so close the aroma of you fills my lungs.

I fall in love again as I feel the warmth of you.

It's like each day you give me strength,

a day without you I shudder to face.

Even now, I miss the taste of you on my lips,

that comes from every sip

of that dark delicious drip.

Coffee, you are my friend.

Yes, I am an unreformed coffee enthusiast.But that is perfectly acceptable as I am a barista,and long time coffee snob.

 I did break from my normal rhyme and metric that I  have. But that's okay,I break rules when they get in my way ( although I am trying to stop my soft core rebellious ways). I also couldn't write in my traditional style while avoiding the object of my affection to the end.   

Dear friends, stay caffeinated.

-Cider  

A Thousand Paper Shreds

You want to leave this place behind,

be free,

to escape to a place of fantasy.

To leave the life you've led in a thousand paper shreds.

Documents, diaries, pictures too,

deserted so you can start anew.

The things you thought protected you,

kept you alive, like your 9 to 5,

suit and tie, and that car you idolize,

and the search for a trophy wife or Mr. Right;

but it's left you uptight, this uphill fight,

this is far from what you thought life would be.

Monotonous, desolate, a death to your dreams.

While money came in, hope was drained out,

This shouldn't be what life is about.

The lights, the scene, the cityscape,

it's something you just want to escape,

and chases the dreams you were meant to chase.

Because deep in your soul,

you know you were made for more...

This piece came from a conversation where a friend of mine was saying she had to change into something else because she was covered in a thousand paper shred. I thought that made a great line for a poem, so I took to facebook to see what directions people might take with that. After a lot of fantastic feedback I took the direction of a man who has been following what society dictates happiness should look like, and finding it's emptiness wants to leave it all and start over somewhere new, really chasing his dreams and purpose this time.

Worlds Apart

I am questioning if I should post this, even now. It seems so private, yet the thoughts and emotions that percolated around it's inception want some form of escape. The indelible image that is referenced  in here was a friend of mine, who while having been really stressed on another's behalf was driving one day, and a song came on; I watched the stress disappear as she looked to Jesus in worship. The complete change I saw in her amazed me, and formed much of my opinion concerning her character.
It's unfortunate that our paths lead in such different directions.

While catastrophic planetary impact is something I would rather normally avoid,

It made me really happy to see our worlds collide.

The grace and beauty you displayed,

in the midst of tumultuous days

So polished and debonair,

while another's burden you did bear.

The inexplicable strength you got,

when the Great King's strength you sought.

When eyes and heart you did upturn,

I saw you released from the burden.

If you looked you would find

the indelible image left upon my mind.

So to tell the truth it hurts my heart,

                                                      to see how we are still worlds apart.

-Coder

Monument to Failure

The pain is too great,

the stupid mistakes,

that keep me awake at night.

Mistakes, shortcuts,

leaving me tortured,

unable to lift my gaze.

The things that were done, and can't be undone

have driven me here to this place.

So erected here,

overshadowed by fear

this monument to failure stands.

This work of my hands so amply demands,

my authority be resigned.

Now unable to raise

the bar to it's place for those who would come behind.

Unable to guide, I leave them now blind,

searching in vain for hope.

But held by my past,

this charade can not last,

or their fall will be just as mine.

This was more of a concept piece, taken from a line in the book "The Supernatural Ways of Royalty"

where Kris Vallotin is talking about how forgiveness restores the right order of things, otherwise we wouldn't be able to hold the people we lead to a bar any higher than our lowest point.  I have been  the leader that should have come with correction at times, but was aware of my own shortcomings and so I didn't  correct the wrong. 

* There is hope beyond failures, but unless it is addressed and brought to the light, you undermine your authority.