Advertisements
Who are those who do not wonder?
My mind must be shallow
For I do not see how the world can ever repay the debt it laundered
In piece by piece, disappointment by disappointment, we spit on what the once hallowed
God save our cynical souls
God God God why have you let us be less than whole
He is dwarfed by the destruction we magnify in our minds
And in anger we kill all those of our own kind
Hate, hate, hate is the world’s chosen god
Christ warns us we will become charred
Oh cynical soul, do you like the world now?
You have believed yourself into defeat, to your own ambition you will bow
You dreamed your road to hell
In your bed you must dwell
Don’t cry to me you sixties child
You selfless, yet selfish bastard
You have been left without father, let your fear tame your wild
You did not humble yourself to your good Master
And did not believe for a better future
You have dreamed yourself to death
In calling yourself mature
Your mother’s arms are thorns and your fatherly wisdom meth
Do not tell me of the pain of your bed of nails
You made your jail
Do not cry to me cynical soul
It is not in my heart to listen to you oh cynical soul
- A. Inge
Cold, porcelain hands wrap my own
And an old tooth smile meets my gaze
You reap what you sow
But I have been much too blessed
I’ve seen more red sun sunsets than
A prairie dog driving west
I never dreamed I’d say goodbye
But here I am, alone on a Friday night
And sometimes it’s just enough
But those porcelain hand keep remind me
A little dirt on a road
And a sandy haired boy
A stick carved sword
And I won’t forget her smile or the dreams she gave me
I won’t forget the Oak that protected me
Nor the creek which washed me
Don’t ask me about my home
Cause nothing I’d say would ever make sense
I might just cry or I might just ramble
But those porcelain hands remind me who I am
So kiss your babies and thank God for another day
Porque este dia es el Dias
Howl with the moon
And laugh with the stars
Everything else will work itself out.
Don’t you worry your pretty little heart
*A. Inge
A twisted road leaves no room to think
One foot upon another, no room to ponder
Curving with every new scene, in journey we wonder
Around the dirt the mocking trees link
Skittered branches and crunched leaves
On the fallen we tread
To be called beast, yet it is to their honor we weave
So they may never really be dead
A gravestone, shrouded by growth
Will make my feet stray left
Or take a valiant swing right with an oath
Protective women hold Beth
But with a jostling tune (for children do not fear)
Youth entices them ahead and gleefully yells
Twist! Shout! Come heist king and reign!
Jump the bramble and kiss her good!
Chase and gleam, my dears!
For she entices them ahead. Ahead!
Till they can not keep up but fall to become leaves and branches
But still the road twists on and on
Carving, dancing, and even disappearing
Into a peaceful clearing
Still… do not delay love! For we must run on with the road! On and on!
Remember children, be kind to all you meet
For peace will dress as chaos and come to kiss your cheek
And love disguised as anger
Will take her pale fingers
Plunge them into your heart till only a ghost of you remains
The road will not possess mercy for path cutters and cheats
For this is his domain
So err not my son
With each twist and curve continue- for it is the only road
Till dust doth hale your soul to heaven or hell
For not even the wise withered eye may see beyond the bend
And it is only one hand we hold
To make it to the end
* A. Inge.
I used to think love was finding someone to be the other half of your thoughts on a roof at midnight beneath the stars. To be wild and original with. Naively, I thought I was the only one who believed this and those moments on the roof were mine alone. Now that I’m older, I realize those moments of star-truth are so much more than mine. They’re pieces of our God who wants everyone to experience good things. Anyone can appreciate a sunset, it’s those who dedicate their lives to saving it that you can trust your heart with.
