Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Putting Together The Pieces

Portraits take time to paint. I'm sure we can all think of a portrait of some famous person that becomes "the" image of that person. One portrait that comes to my mind is of George Washington. Since I've never seen George Washington in the flesh, my understanding of what he looked like was through his portraits. A portrait is a construction, brush strokes that have coalesced into a whole picture that represents something.



The past few weeks I have worked on a portrait in some sense. The portrait is not a painting, but rather a collection of events from a year in the life of my Grandmother. A year is not much in respects to a lifetime. I see it as a brush stroke in a life that was fruitful and full of stories and events. By focusing on one year, I have found that a lifetime of events has boiled up. When I think of the times that I have had with my Grandmother and the year that is being examined I can't help but think of how mysterious life can be.

I do feel that life is very much a fleeting thing. One day we can be wrapped up in so many things or even wrapped up in one event that those things and events become all we know. But then the next day everything can be gone. Or even, everything that we thought was important is no longer of value. As I put together the pieces of a year I think I'm really trying to understand how some pieces fit into a greater story. The more I do this, the more perspective I gain. Every life is different, just as a portrait and the brush strokes that make up the portrait. What portrait are you painting? What greater story is your portrait telling?

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The Silent March of History

If you stand for me
You may be disappointed
When the words that are spoken
Disconnects the hearts of listeners

Passive ears tingle
And the shifting of weight
The growing uncomfortableness

These
The precursor
To the silent march of history
Not away from you
But away from me

Grace
Sufficient Grace
Thorns and briers
For strength
Not for me
But for you

Sunday, September 26, 2010

For those few followers

I wanted to let those who follow, not that I'm leading anyone anywhere, that I have decided to create a second blog all about films. Partly so I can continue to work on my chops with writing but also to fully devote a space to film. The Band of Outsiders blog is more of a personal open forum of ideas and can be very scattered. Just look at previous posts.

But here is the link to the new place Light Through the Mirror

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Salesman

Nineteen sixty-eight was a year that many historians of the United States of America see as a turning point in the country's history. Even in the world of Hollywood filmmaking, nineteen sixty-eight saw seminal pieces of work that supported the changing landscape of the culture. Films such as; 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick), Night of the Living Dead (Romero), Rosemary's Baby (Polanski, Head (Rafelson), Faces (Cassavetes), and many more. These films not only showed the changing landscape of American culture, (some argue the rise of youth culture, others the change from modernism to post-modernism) but also the philosophical and psychological shift in the representation of characters within the films. The general tone and feel of many films in the sixties seemed to personify the difficulties of accepting the "establishment" and the separation of generations seemed to show the gulf that was growing between young and old.



The documentary film Salesman (Maysles Brothers, 1968) supports the philosophical change in the American psyche that was prevalent in the nineteen sixties. Salesman, though, shows the pressure of working class salesmen who struggle for financial security. In filmmaking the classical Hollywood big spectacle films offered much in the way of surface appeal. You knew who the characters were and how they would face the challenges that arose in the film. As independents and young film makers infiltrated Hollywood, characters became more complex, and doubt, fear and failure became traits of the hero's in some films. That's if the film even had a hero. Salesman has no hero but ever presently convey's the doubts, fears and failure that comes with selling door to door.

Now I'm sure for those who are of the documentary mindset, Salesman is no mystery. But in comparison to the fiction films of nineteen sixty-eight, Salesman seems other worldly. Maybe it is because of the film stock, the black and white film stock doesn't have the flare of even George Romero's Night of the Living Dead. Or maybe that other worldliness comes from the fact that the filmmakers follow salesmen who look so unexciting, and don't have the counter culture representation or even appeal as say the characters in Bob Rafelson's Head. But there is something that Salesman has that many of the popular films of nineteen sixty-eight doesn't have and that's reality.

Salesman centers around four main Bible salesman, one in particular Paul Brennan, nicknamed "The Badger".

It is his story within the films body that seems to be the center piece. Paul's visits to various houses and attempts at selling a highly ornamented catholic bible are wrought with failure and a half hearted attempt at trying to make a sale. Paul's failures are mixed with other salesmen's success. In one day of selling Paul has no success and at the end of the day he is asked how the battle went? He talks about the day while his fellow salesman watches a boxing match on television. In a way Paul is broken down fighter. He says he used everything he had to try and sell but nothing happened. Paul acknowledges that the business is on the fringe but it is not the business. It is Paul that teeters on the fringe, with each failure he comes closer and closer to breaking. The Maysle brothers capture each failure and the build up tension with close ups of Paul that seem to bottle the anger, disappointment and resignation that Paul vocalizes among his fellow salesman at the end of the day.




From the outset of the film the pressure to sell the Bibles is evident. Excuses are made by Paul about the territory that the salesman are selling in. When addressing an assembly of the salesmen, the general manager chides the salesmen as being the reason for any rejection of a sale. In one sequence as Paul travels by train to the Chicago sales meeting his journey is intercut with fellow salesman pridefully exuding themselves.


At the sales meeting the salesmen are told that they are doing God's work by selling Bibles. The evidence of their work is spiritually lacking and catholicism is used as a tool to try and sell Bibles and Encyclopedias. It seems that the only higher authority that they are working for is a financial deity. The salesmen use the differences between Irish catholics and other european catholics to try and find ways to exploit the consumers emotions. Along with pandering to potential buyers, using two salesman to make a sale, or incessantly pushing the product to create guilt.

One sequence of the film has two of the salesmen using as much spin to sell the Bible to a family that cannot afford the cost. The wife of the family wants the Bible but knows that the cost is out of reach. The salesmen do whatever they can in getting a small down payment. Later in the film Paul visits the poor family and lies about his position as a district manager and then creates a story about penalizing the processor of the order to get money out of the wife of the poor family.


What follows is Paul changing a flat tire. The flat tire is a minor inconvenience compared to making a sale but I can't help but see the flat tire as a symbol for the extent that Paul will go to make a dollar. He roles the tire down a hill and laughs. Paul is no different from the tire, he's used and blown out, his job is a joke and the pressure of selling is too much to take. After a terrible work day he vents about selling and believes he has all of the reasons why people buy and don't buy the Bible. His fellow co-workers treat him as if he is a leper, it is as if the lack of success could be contagious. Paul tags along on a potential sale and tries to help his fellow salesman. What happens is Paul being rejected and then used as selling device by his fellow worker to try and get a family to buy the Bible.


It's the last straw for Paul and he quits being a salesman. He try's to joke with his fellow workers but Paul's attempts are futile, instead of being funny he looks burned out and sounds incoherent.




In an interview the Maysles participated in about documentary they quoted about Salesman the verse from the Bible, "What profit a man if he gains the world yet loses his soul?" Paul is a man who knows that his soul is gone and traded for the dollar. He sings at one point in the film if I was a rich man, from Fiddler on the Roof. Paul is a real example of the malaise of living a life that is constantly striving for financial success. Many fictional films of the sixties portrayed characters with a dissatisfaction for established means of living, and characters looking for a freer way of life. The final blank stare that Paul gives in Salesman does not offer much in the way of hope for his future. The door to door sales business has passed him by, the emasculation of being a failure only leaves Paul with the possibility of retiring. But what is he retiring to? Of the landscape that we see in Salesman we see the harsh Massachusetts weather of winter. The broken down landscape via train when Paul goes to Chicago for the sales meeting and then finally the bazar world of Florida, with streets named after characters and places from Sinbad's Voyage and the houses residing eclectic residents. Paul is out of place, time and purpose.

Though time has progressed past the sixties and the days of door to door salesman with the nature that is represented in the film, Salesman still touches upon the challenge of trying to make a living. Grand philosophical and psychological words are never really spoken in Salesman but the film's content still seems to ask the question, "For what is our purpose, and why do we do what we do?" For every forlorn stare and moment of contemplation that seems to be a product of the environment in which we work, there is a bit of Paul within us. Maybe our souls were not meant for the whole world.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

June 30: Closing The Book

So much time can be spent
Reading about things that happened
Though understanding and knowledge can be gained
You can't go back and do it again

In moments so brief
Observations ever changing
There needs to be a new chapter
So there can be a morning after

Turn the cover down
The book goes back on the shelf
Tales later to be spoken
One day the books to be open
When the soul passes on
Let the books
Reflect the songs
Of the years that are gone



This final song/poem bookends the month. This notebook can now be closed for a little while but there will probably be times will when I will open the blue notebook, read the words and reflect. There is not only a time to look back but a time to put the pen to the blank page.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

June 29: Office Scene

Fluorescent bulbs
Blinding life out of the eyes
The cluttered desk
Pictures of happier times
High-heeled shoes teetering
One hand supporting
A brow partially covered
By strands of hair

The squeak of the chair
A click of the keyboard
Shuffled papers
The micro-sonic clench of the hand
The calendar met to cheer up
Marking numbers till the weekend

The inbox fills up
The clock marches on
The eyes shadowing discomfort
The heart beats for something more

Monday, June 28, 2010

June 28: A Question of Building

Who are the ones
That are going to build my house?
That question reaching inward
Yet making me reach out

Though the context may mean
Something very different
Your other words
Challenge me to make a difference

Give me a hammer
Give me some nails
I'll try to build upon
Something that will never fail
My skills may be limited
But your guidance will see me through
At the end of that work
It will all be for the glory of you

When you say, "Go,
Reach out to those rejected"
Work out of me
All the prejudice that'll make me ineffective

There shouldn't be a place
That I shouldn't bring a light to shine
Even though the threat is high
You say, "You're still mine"

So,
Give me a hammer
Give me some nails
I'll try to build upon
Something that will never fail
My skills may be limited
But your guidance will see me through
At the end of that work
It will all be for the glory of you

The work to be done
Is for so many
But the workers are few
Give strength to the minority
So the majority
Can give praise to you

Give me a hammer
Give me some nails
I'll try to build upon
Something that will never fail
My skills may be limited
But your guidance will see me through
At the end of that work
It will all be for the glory of you

Are you the one
That's going to build my house?

Sunday, June 27, 2010

June 27: The Long Nights

I never asked for
A time of testing
Even when it helps me
Understand times of blessings

Instead of seeking comfort
And asking for help
I was off to a corner
Refusing to get well

I don't understand loss
But I'm beginning to understand
What it means to carry my cross

When long nights
Seemed as if they would never end
And heartache
Was my only friend
The still small voice inside
Glared light into my eyes
That opportunity to blink
Opening my eyes to see and think
About how there's approaching
A greater day

My words were often
Very, very few
Folding hands in prayer
Was the opposite of what I wanted to do

It always felt easy
To let failure reign
And to forget about wisdom
That comes through times of pain

I don't understand loss
But I'm beginning to understand
What it means to carry my cross

When long nights
Seemed as if they would never end
And heartache
Was my only friend
The still small voice inside
Glared light into my eyes
That opportunity to blink
Opening my eyes to see and think
About how there's approaching
A greater day

The battles are never over
Even though I plead for
Peace during this war
The struggles are not
For me alone
The battle belongs to the Lord

I never asked for
A time of testing
Even when it helps me
Understand times of blessing




There have been many instances that have led me to having long nights. Some were of my own doing, others having come from people around me. When I think about having to "carry my cross" I reflect to why Jesus had to carry his on his day of death. His burden was so much more than just the present physical suffering he faced, but he was carrying the burden of the world. When there are moments of pain, it was there, loneliness, sorrow, seclusion, they were all there that day. And most importantly the three letter word of death, sin. If Jesus had never carried the cross, we would never have the blessing of it.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

June 26: The River Named Life

There's a river named Life
It helps the weary to thrive
The deep waters they will keep
All those thirsty to be alive

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

There's no cost to drink
From that Holy river
Understand the Lord is merciful
And the true life giver

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

Let the cool water
Come and revive your soul
This river is for eternity
For the sheep in the shepherds fold

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

Let the water flood over
With mercy and grace
On all the saints and followers
From every tribe and race
And let us all sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

Friday, June 25, 2010

June 25: Sometime After The Ceremony

The sunlight blinded my eyes
The future just as hard to see
The reading of every name
The handshake that meant I was free

With a bit of pomp and circumstance
There was nowhere left to go
Life just shifted enormously
All I could do was play "Heroes"

I was told that
It's okay to dream
About what I could be
And the places I could see
Because we're all great achievers

As that sun went down
The orange and brown
Sunlight burned away
All the accolades
From this doubting believer

The concrete path
Leading out of that field
Our names etched into that stone
Once brimming with zeal

Now ten years or so
That stone starting to fade
Erosion just doesn't take names
It indicates false progress made

I once believed
I had five years to prove
Whether life was worth living
And even if it was worth attempting
Trying to be a great achiever

But wisdom doesn't come
With a push of a button
Perspective comes with time
And context comes inline
From this older believer

Pictures show someone
Who once was me
The paper of completion
Nowhere to be seen

That march goes on
The concrete path getting longer
The sun rising and falling
And Bluejays moving onward




I am reminded whenever I do a track workout at my former high school of how time has moved on since my time there. The etched nickname is not the same as it once was, and those fellow classmates of mine, their names disappearing. One day there will just be a concrete stone that looks choppy. How fitting that our life is reflected in some concrete.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

June 24: The Growing Canyon

I know that
All men are created equal
Yet I constantly find
Separated people

The rain falls on the rich
And the poor
Yet the rich get away with
What the poor go to jail for

There's a canyon growing
A wider and wider gap
Between those who have
And those that lack

In that daily paper
Entertainment we find
Not in the celebrity
But in the disenfranchised

As the fiddle song plays
The great dance and scourge
The fire grows stronger
Leaving hope burned
The smoke rises high
The signal of demise
The time for cowards passed

For the low
The scraps we throw
We say, "It could be worse,
I hope you know."

For those who think
They've risen above that line
Beware the marionette strings
That'll be cut at any time

As the fiddle song plays
The great dance and scourge
The fire grows stronger
Leaving hope burned
The smoke rises high
The signal of demise
The time for cowards passed

For the ones at the top
A drought of satisfaction
The gathering of techno stones
Are empty accumulation

As the fiddle song plays
The great dance and scourge
The fire grows stronger
Leaving hope burned
The smoke rises high
The signal of demise
The time for cowards passed

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

June 23: A Brief Word About Water

Underneath the earth
Melting off icy sides
Down course mountains
Flowing with the tides
Evaporating with heat
Forming clouds in the sky
Falling into the ocean
Or off the cheek from a cry

The streams pass
Into the rivers
Providing drink
Like a gift giver
Marsh and bogs
Deltas and bays
Into the great engine
The designers way

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

June 22: The Old Straws

The old stuff
Ain't gonna save
Nor will I
Be the one to make the change

When we grasp
To all the old straws
Where passing on
A tombstone already engraved

Those legal rules
That were never written
Cover over all
The ways to be uncomfortable

When we look
For true authenticity
All we find
Is our lives dichotomy

When you arise
From the seat you're in
And move on
To the next best thing
Know that one day
The excitement will wear
And the damage done
You can't repair

Now at the buffet
We take small portions
Moving from dish to dish
Till our faces full

If by chance
You're still hungry
Maybe it's because we got milk
Not solid food

When you arise
From the seat you're in
And move on
To the next best thing
Know that one day
The excitement will wear
And the damage done
You can't repair

Know that there is
Precedent
For a deaf ear
To be turned
To those crying out
For some kind of
Free hand out

Monday, June 21, 2010

June 21: Before I Go, Let Me Tell You Something

When the trumpet sounds
I'm going home
When the trumpet sounds
I'm going home
When the trumpet sounds
I'm going home
Going home to be with the Lord

I'm going to throw off
All those chains
I'm going to throw off
All those chains
I'm going to throw off
All those chains
That keep me tied down to this world

If the trump don't sound
I know where I'm gonna go
If the trump don't sound
I know where I'm gonna go
If the trump don't sound
I know where I'm gonna go
Gonna go to the Lord at the end of the road

Before I go
Let me tell you something
Before I go
Let me tell you something
Before I go
Let me tell you something
About the man who is my King

Let me tell you
Of the wondrous things he has done
Let me tell you
Of the wondrous things he has done
Let me tell you
Of the wondrous things he has done
And how he came to rescue you and me

Gonna sing hallelujah
To the King
Gonna sing hallelujah
To the King
Gonna sing hallelujah
To the King
For his love covers over all sins



There are allot of songs that I could write, and even poems and stories, scripts etc. Only one thing matters. That is the story of redemption that is for all. The repetitive nature of blues/gospel/spiritual, hammer homes the importance of what the singer is singing. So here I try to hammer the important home.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

June 20: The Land of Tests and Money

Vocabulary
For you and me
As we are
Part of a system
That says
We care

That care
Is placed somewhere
In standardized tests
After all
If you don't compare
Or match up
In the worlds
Education fair
Then you
Fail

Meanwhile...

In a building
In a hut
The only competition
Is against that
Which is defeating
A chance
To live

Back over here...

Fight
And Climb
Get out of the way
Here's a resumé
I got the goods
Is there anything I could
Do

You learn
What you learn
For the service
Of the dollar
Which makes
Our wheels turn

We may be favored
But we are not
Saviors



For some reason when I hear statistics that compare one country with another in educational matters I feel frustrated. Maybe it is the manner of spin or our need to be competing, but education is not a game. Though recent trends are pointing towards a future where the only way that education will be effective will be through models of video games and other sorts of competitive forms. Then there is the question why? Why our educational model and for what purpose do we learn?

I think back to an episode of the now gone show NOW. In one episode young children were shown traveling through the jungles of Bangladesh to learn on boats that had been set up since the ocean and the wetlands are taking over the land of the country. Young children learning so that they may one day be able to help their families and country. I then witness the attitude of children the same age and older within this country, where the value of education bows in worship to the dollar bill. All modes, and classes are pursued for the sake of academic record to maybe get an extra buck so that a transcript will look good and maybe the college of our dreams will drop a small morsel of a scholarship.

We've got the best in educational setting but there's a sacrifice that comes with that. Some don't even realize what they've lost.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

June 19: The Party

Get into your ride
And take to the highway
There's a party coming
Down from the sky

If you don't have a drum
You still got your hands
As we sing a glorious song
All sorrows will be gone

In the morning
When this world is over
Were gonna praise
The Holy one

Every moment
And every chance
Sound the trumpet
Get up and dance

There's a song for answers
There's a song because we win
There's a song of salvation
To our great and glorious king

There's a song for eternity
There's a song for all you've made
There 's joy forever
Because of the one who saves

In the morning
When this world is over
Were gonna praise
The Holy one

Every moment
And every chance
Sound the trumpet
Get up and dance

We'll dance
Because we know
That the crimson
Is now white as snow
And those hills
So hard to climb
Are made level
For all time

In the morning
When this world is over
Were gonna praise
The Holy one

Every moment
And every chance
Sound the trumpet
Get up and dance

Friday, June 18, 2010

June 18: Old Brother Cain

Two people, so different
But so much alike
Together for a moment
But wedged by a spike

If you look at me that way
There'll be hell to pay
Fingers clenching tightly
What, do you want to fight me?

When the fruit wasn't good enough
You're offering came up short
Jealousy, rage and pride
Because mans favorite sport
Now from one
To times everyone
The lines are drawn in the sand
As long as the entitled stand
The moment to fancy a fight
Over that which is thought as right
Has been a mark of history's darkest night
And so for a moment
A reflection of pain
From our old brother Cain



A thought crossed my mind on what would happen if someone threatened me harm. My initial reaction was threaten then if need be fight. Why is that the first thing that crosses my mind?

In a way the actions of Cain in the garden of Eden reflect the condition of our hearts when it comes to violence. Cain did kill his brother but before that he was selfish. Selfish, because when his offering was denied and his brother accepted; jealousy, pride and anger led him to a path of destruction. One that I know I am very capable of.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

June 17: One Foot On Land, The Other In The Sea

I've got a thousand excuses
That keep me from moving
Fear like cement blocks on my feet
And pessimism from losing

Carefully selecting each word
So as not to offend
How words like salvation and righteousness
Became wrong, must have been from some men

But it's not just them
It's also me
One finger out
And three for me to see
When I build a wall
But play the worlds game
I fail to know love
And am just the same
As everyone

What's it going to take
To drive out that fear
I may have got the knowledge
But that doesn't make anything clear

For every step forward
There's a desire to look back
If I try to run from it all
There's still so much I lack

But it's not just them
It's also me
One finger out
And three for me to see
When I build a wall
But play the worlds game
I fail to know love
And am just the same
As everyone

For freedom
You came
To set us free
Seal upon our hearts
The promises that'll make us be
Like a light for all the world to see

One day I'll stand
Before the seat
Of the one so great
The only words to speak
Will be Holy


Building a wall may isolate us from the outside world but that doesn't mean the world isn't in us. There's nothing we can do to set ourselves free.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

June 16: Blue Notebook

It doesn't feel like that long ago
When time was spent writing
Words that captured emotions
From one with so much inside

Every artist and every song
Touching upon multiplying aspects
Connecting every turn and twist of youth
Into a force unrelenting

Those songs ring out
Like a bell signaling war
The toll of those times may never tell
The excitement behind creating



There is a blue spiral notebook (the same one that I am using to write down this months posts) that has some of my original "punk" songs that I wrote from over 10 years ago. Though those songs may sound silly or inane now, they are still a reflection of someone that I was. Those songs matter, even if you wouldn't find performing them anytime soon.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

June 15: Whatever it Takes

My mouth lacks the words to say
When heart brake and sorrow
Carry so much weight

Before a syllable reaches my tongue
The mind tries to comprehend
What else more there is to come

The ache
Of the heart
Is where the change
Can start

To find a cause worthy
For your honor and glory
Remind me of what's at stake
If a mile in pains shoes
Bring me closer to you
Then let that be what it takes

One day the war will end
But these wounds carry stories
That even now are hard to comprehend

Pressing on is easy
When you hide from the battle
That's not how we should be

Cause the ache
Of the heart
Is where the change
Can start

To find a cause worthy
For your honor and glory
Remind me of what's at stake
If a mile in pains shoes
Bring me closer to you
Then let that be what it takes

Oh whatever it takes Lord
To be closer to you
Do whatever it takes
So I can know you

The ache of the heart
Is where the change can start

Monday, June 14, 2010

June 14: Wear and Tear (Assurance)

There's a way I need to follow
That leads to perfection
But there's those things that make me stumble
And flashes of light that are a distraction

Messages come over through wire
Have anything your way
There's nothing wrong with a little fire
Unburned is how I want to stay

Leading
May lead to bleeding
But that's part of the cross to bare
With desire to give up
And believe in blind luck
There's bound to be wear and tear
Yet I hear the Word say,
"The Sons already been there."

Yeah my feet get really tired
My throat dry's out
Hope fades like a worn shirt
All signs point to doubt

If all I had was strength alone
And no need for a drink
To feel blessed assurance
Solidifies the need to think

Leading
May lead to bleeding
But that's part of the cross to bare
With desire to give up
And believe in blind luck
There's bound to be wear and tear
Yet I hear the Word say,
"The Sons already been there."

Whether into the wilderness
Or the dark valleys
There are solid small words
As sharp as a sword
Encasing my heart
Reassuring you will never depart

There's a way I need to follow
That's bound to give wear and tear
But I know I'm not alone
Cause there's nothing you haven't bared

Sunday, June 13, 2010

June 13: Rendezvous

In the pitch darkness
A flash of lightning
The distant rumble
Echoing through nights haziness
Wind passes through sleeping leafs
The clouds moan heavy with rain
The pressure drops
Thrusting pellets of ice
Through the hot air
Turning into water and falling
Wetting all surroundings

The peals of thunder
Grow louder with approach
Branches fall about
With the breath of night fury
Spinning into a circle
In the violent sky
The culmination
Of tension
Released
Explosion
As a meeting of two
In a light night rendezvous



Sometimes late at night a storm sweeps through. The storm carries tension that releases itself, and before you can fully understand what is going on, it's over. And there's satisfaction.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

June 12: The Merry Go Round

There is no time to lose composure
Just because things are tough
And you believe you don't have enough
This is no way to act like one so unsure

We've all felt the hammer coming down
And the axe taking its swing
Cutting into everything
Friends, family and even our town

Too late or too soon
The pressure will burst your balloon

You fill up
And let go
Drown in a liquid
So you can forget all you know
Weekend to weekend
Five days for sinking
And being spun around
On life's merry go round

There's that feeling of being spun
In all sorts of directions
Stripping the armors protection
An easy target for life's weapons

Raise your glass past
Your stressed heads height
Seek approval from the left and the right
As if this is the way die should be cast

Never too late or too soon
For the pressure to burst your balloon

You fill up
And let go
Drown in a liquid
So you can forget all you know
Weekend to weekend
Five days for sinking
And being spun around
On life's merry go round

When are you going to get off
And take a good look around?
See that there's so many
On the merry go round
Spinning and spinning
Without an ending
And simply accepting
What they thought was winning

You fill up
And let go
Drown in a liquid
So you can forget all you know
Weekend to weekend
Five days for sinking
And being spun around
On life's merry go round



I think there's allot of people in my generation who've accepted this idea that drinking is the be all and end all. All problems are solved with a drink. How that happened, I don't know?

Friday, June 11, 2010

June 11: Twelve Years Old

Twelve years old
Inching closer to thirteen
Each decision more bold
Perspective unseen
Time taken by school
Eyes glued to a screen
Ignorance builds fools
Learning more ways to be mean

By their hands
Lead to promises
Shattered by instant gratification

As hardship gets harder
Life becomes expendable
The silver lined future
Now becomes unbearable

Twelve years old
This is what we've become



I don't feel like I'm that far removed from being twelve but then again what I feel is not reality. Twelve was a long time ago. When I think back and compare to twelve year olds now, I like to think that I had it much easier. Somehow, someway this culture that we in started to put the hands on the backs of twelve year olds and push them forward. I could go into how many companies have shifted their marketing strategy's to what we call tweens but I'm sure you can just take a look at Nickelodian television and you'll get the picture.

From what I see from twelve year olds I do find connections to those much older. The attitudes and lifestyles of adults are no different from some twelve year olds. I once had dreams about the future, now it's just too painful to think that I actually thought that way. Then again I do still spend allot of the time dreaming.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

June 10: Atmospheric

From the top to the bottom
Shelves neatly stacked
Aisle after aisle
From the front to the back

Brand names upon brand names
Woven into the heart
From the voices that tell
You're nothing without a full cart

The speakers
Play a song
To move
The buying along
The end caps
Sell a sweat deal
To hide
A cheap feel
It may be clever
But it's all understood
As long as it's cheap
Then life is good

In tiny print
And small molecules
Many hands and machinery
Mass production tools

Cover with shades of orange
Red, white and blue
Is soda patriotic?
Do you feel hungry too?

The speakers
Play a song
To move
The buying along
The end caps
Sell a sweat deal
To hide
A cheap feel
It may be clever
But it's all understood
As long as it's cheap
Then life is good

Thiamin mononitrate
Protein concentrate
Calcium propionate
Disodium Inosinate
Artificial flavors



The modern day supermarket is a highly organized and designed place. Have you ever wondered why the aisles are the way they are? Why the fruits and fresh vegetables at the front of the store then the frozen foods at the end? This is not an accident it is by design. Atmospherics then help us shop. When we shop, we don't shop in peace. There is a type of coercion that is happening, all in the efforts to help us buy. Then when we buy do we even know what we are buying? Do you really know what is in the soda that you're drinking or the chips you are eating? Who's made it, where has it come from and how is it able to stay in some sort of freshness?

As our markets get bigger the further away we become to that which is sold there. Then again all that matters is price and not the consequences for that price.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

June 9: Rain

Rain
Breaks the heat
Drops on the pavement
As in applause
To those falling on leaves

The dust of the earth
Now settle down
The grass intakes
A fresh drink from above

The rain that gathers
Down sewers to the stream
Taking with it pieces of refuse
That is from you and me

Rain that cleanses
Rain that provides
Rain to tear down
Rain that collides
On those whose souls
Are dry on the inside

Oh heavenly rain come
Fill us from the inside



When you are in a dry spell rain comes as relief. I'm not talking about a shower that lasts for an hour but the rain that just goes for a day. Everything gets poured on and stays wet for a while. That rain is refreshing, it fully satisfies the dry need. But what do you do about the thirst that comes from within? You feel dry in your soul and nothing seems to satisfy you. Most of us go for what's man-made and for a time we get some relief, but what about something that lasts?

I think there's a really good reason why rain comes from above.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

June 8: Motion Sickness

Oh when will a thousand tongues sing
The song we're waiting for?
I'm sure we'll complain about it
Even though there's no need for more

With words like hallelujah
And the adjective holy
The concept of worshiping
Is traded for something noisy

I want
What I want
And I'll get it
Because I can
My needs
Need to be
First before anything

When the mass comes together
Far from reverence
The crushing of the symbols
Will fall deaf in heaven

All the colors can shine
and the right words be said
Still the mark we're missing
A movement that's brain dead

I want
What I want
And I'll get it
Because I can
My needs
Need to be
First before anything

For those who think they've got it
Cherish it with everything
Cause masqueraders are coming
To rip it all to shreds

Oh were is the best
That'll do away with the rest?
And raise a sweet aroma
That'll lift us out of this coma
And make our eye's see
That thoughts like these...

I want
What I want
And I'll get it
Because I can
My needs
Need to be
First before anything

Lord have mercy



Is this what the American church looks like? Maybe. I will say that these words reflect how I have felt about church in America at times. Sometimes being a part of a movement gives you motion sickness. I'm tired of being sick.

Monday, June 7, 2010

June 7: The Late Night Choice

He took a right
Instead of left
Drove through the night
Hoping to find the next step
One maybe far away
Then he thought about what they'd say
When his chair was empty the next day
His right foot lifting off the gas
Thoughts of his family refusing to pass
Eyes beginning to well with tears
Is this what he wanted all those years?

The red break light shines
Upon the shoulder
The lungs gasping in line
To anxiety that felt colder
Fogging the window
Forcing him to go
To try and find more to know
About the emptiness he feels
And how life could steal
All the things he thought made him real

With the minutes that tick
In a night so long
A car will sit
With a man forlorn
Because something opened his eyes to see
That he wasn't really free
But a slave to democracy
Even with all the choice
He's just another voice
What he has isn't who he is
But that's all there is
Yes that's all there is

Exactly were he's going
Next...



Maybe this is playing out right now and "next" may decide everything.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

June 6: That Which Seeps Out

Deep, deep down
Woven into the soul
Is the sludge that seeps out
Covering beauty
Destroying civility
Driving complacency

For in fact
What turns the wheels
Changes the gears
Is the same conductor
That makes the heart peel
And drives the tears

Spreading all over
The slick veneer
Dividing pure water
With the hope
Of dissipating into the masses

Onward and upward mankind tries
In a bubble ignoring
Life, and how we've already died



There is a part of all of us that we cannot deny and it is the dark part of our nature. There are moments when we've actually have felt the possibility that we could do major harm to someone or something over the slightest of mishaps. If you live or have lived in New Jersey, the driving of some could drive you crazy. (Pun not quite intended) That deep darkness that seeps out is often times the driving force behind our life. I can't help but think that the darkness that can drive us is relative to the dark stuff that runs our life. I'm talking oil.

As of this moment in June of 2010 the worst oil spill in North America is taking place in the Gulf of Mexico. The sludge that is seeping from the oceans floor is so much like ourselves. As much as we hope that the bad stuff within us will go away, more often than not it won't and it effects everyone around us. I don't know what it will take for people to realize that oil may not be a good resource for us. (Don't worry I'm not going to go political...at least not yet.) Let alone I am honest in saying that I am dumbfounded as to how to stop this oil leak and spill in the Gulf. I do believe that the seeping and darkness of our hearts can be stopped. Not only that but cleaned up and made anew. What I see though is the ever leaning desire to ignore that which is within oneself and live life with one foot already in the grave.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

June 5: Keeping in Mind the Promises

There's no guarantee
That anything will work out
To know one hundred percent is rare
More often there is doubt

Every year I think I know
What a month will bring
Then life gets hotter
Summer comes skipping over spring

That's when there's a need for cool relief
To keep us on our feet

The grass grows quicker than
The time it takes to mow
Every month were sold reaping
What about the time to sow?

With all of the plans
That I lay down
It takes a second
To turn them all around

That's when there's a need for relief
To keep us on our feet

With uncertainty
There's promises within me
That can change the world around
If I only keep to the ground
Planting and pulling
Understanding and knowing
About what it really means
To know there's no guarantee
But there's no need
To worry

There's no guarantee
That anything will work out
To know one hundred percent is rare
More often there's doubt

But there's no need to worry



June really kicks into gear the heat that will be coming throughout the rest of the summer months. And not only the heat but the growth of the plants and wildlife all around. There's also the change of the commercial season towards summer related stuff and things that I can't help but want relief. With all of the growth that surrounds me in nature I only feel that I am sold the idea to reap. Consume, consume, consume. But what about planting?

There's value in planting, and taking the time to understand the things that matter the most. For myself those things that matter the most are the promises that say that no matter how much the world will change, or how uncertain the future looks, there is a God that cares. There is no need to worry. I am cognizant of what can go wrong and am fully aware of uncertainty, but I am not alone. No matter what happens God's hand will provide.

Friday, June 4, 2010

June 4: Anniversary

There's a wedding that one day awaits
A perfect bride united with their mate
With a celebration
And guests from all nations
Making vows for eternity

Then everyday
Will be like an
Anniversary
Looking upon the one
Who is perfection
Joy spreading as far as can be

Though not there yet
There's much to expect
From the groom still to come
Who'll make everyday
Like the best
Anniversary

Here can only be a reflection
Of a marriage of perfection
With love like no one
Beauty that shines like the sun
Love that will one day cease

But everyday
I'll try to make it an
Anniversary
Two is better than one
Love the mission
Always giving the all of me

With each and every vow
And the best I know how
Making the most of each day
You are my prize
I'll cherish your life
And love you more than yesterday
Celebrating everyday
Like it's the best
Anniversary


There is allot I can say about this writing but it would just be too much and may complicate things. I'll try to be short with this and let you ruminate over the words. I believe one day that there will be a perfect union of creator and the created and there is often times an emphasis placed upon that union. But if I truly believe in an eternal union what will that be like? My only thoughts are what I know from my life. Being with someone that I love deeply and madly I can only think that everyday in that perfect union will be like celebrating an anniversary. In an anniversary there is the reminder and joy of the love that each other has for one another. There is celebration and praise given and I can only think that the joy that I experience now is nothing compared to what awaits. But for now the love I have for my wife is a reminder of the love that I have for my creator and as I love my wife more and more, I will strive to do the same for the one who has showed me what it means to love.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

June 3: The Shore

The tide comes in
Bringing with it all the pieces
Disposed by the seas use
Left to breakdown
Covered over
By the sand

Footprints left on those sands
Marking exploration or vacation
Coming to use
Or visiting before a breakdown
To cover over
Life with a sun tan

The waves sing out
In a constant whoosh of exaltation
The song consistent
From beginning to the final culmination

The breeze through the dunes
The grass shifts sideways
A movement of contemplation
The shore symphony


In New Jersey there is not a beach, there is a shore. Sure I know it's semantics but in New Jersey you go down to the shore. Even if you are traveling north to get there. The New Jersey shore is a well traveled and visited place during the summer. People from the surrounding area come to take in the ocean and the world of beach towns. For all of the glamour of vacationing and going to beaches, there is a part of us that is getting away from something. We handle that something by distracting ourselves with a vacation. I'm sure we can all think about vacations that we have taken in the past and all of the stuff that we did during them. There's a time to rest but where is true rest? Walking along the shore line there are little bits of shell and algae and other stuff that is just the used stuff of the ocean. We come to the shore as used stuff. Where the things of the ocean are covered over by sand and broken down, we cover ourselves with a tan, as if that is a successful sign of relaxation.

The constant song of the ocean rings out. The song began at one point and will one day be a part of the eternal culmination. We miss that on our vacations. We miss the symphony that has been created and is before us. The breeze that runs through the grass of the dune is like a dance to the oceans symphony. The grass gets it but we miss it. What will it take for us to realize what is important and how true rest can be obtained? May the shore continue to sing.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

June 2: Connections

A strange feeling comes over me
As if I've been away a long, long time
This place nestled near a valley
Buildings that are a part of my life

Though I've moved on
And years pass away
I cannot forget the steps
That I've traveled in those days
I may be older
But I know I'm not done
Understanding things learned
And what it means to be someone

Those same feelings rise up
When reading ancient words
Whether pain or pleasure
Follows after every promised turns

And when I move on
And those days pass away
May each and every step
Be ones that make me stay
Closer to the Son
More than anyone
For that's the only way
I've ever found to be someone

One day the feeling will fade
Into a feeling for eternity
Being away will finally cease
Home being filled with glory


A slight word about the actual posting dates for this song/poem journey. Technically in blog world I guess you can say that you have to post every day to be posting consecutively. For this journey I am finding that I'm writing the song/poem during the day and then posting sometime around the turn of midnight, which could throw off the dates of the posts with the titles. I'm not a stickler for time but I do want all to know that I'm not cheating or delaying in any way shape or form. Now for the piece.

There are places that become a part of us. Just as a journal holds moments of life, so often do I find myself finding moments in places. One in particular is my first college. I did not have the more fashionable four year experience, rather a long part time, here and there post-highschool learning experience. And on top of that my first college was a two year community college that wound up being a six year college. In that place are many memories and moments that have shaped who I am today. Even though I may kick myself now and say, "Why did I take so long?" It was all a part of a plan to help me become who I am now.

I often find that same feeling when I read whats in the Bible. There's a part of me that feels that I'm away from someplace. I think somehow that feeling relates to a verse that says that believers are strangers in this world. And to compound that one writer in the Bible says that our lives are not all there is, there's a home waiting for us in eternity. That strange feeling of being away comes and goes when in the midst of the Son. Somehow when I'm closer to Jesus I start to understand what my true home is really like. And in that place there is glory.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

June 1: Opening the Books

Open my books
To any page
Look inside once
Find peace and rage

The least of strokes
Cut marks from a sword
Nothing for naught
Nor a useless word

So from the all of me
I hope you see
That the days and nights
Of the yesteryears
May somehow help you
On your journey

My thoughts
And all of my ways
Read foreign
Missing in between days

All that's written
Never fully capturing
Whats been left behind
In feelings

So from the all of me
I hope you see
That the days and nights
Of the yesteryears
May somehow help you
On your journey

Don't be surprised
When you find with your eyes
The reasons I'm alive
And how one can survive

So from the all of me
I hope you see
That the days and nights
Of the yesteryears
May somehow help you
On your journey



So begins the journey of writing a song/poem for everyday of June. I don't want to go into too much detail about this piece but I do see it as a song. The music part I still have to work on. The lyrics are about looking into ones past through what has been written. I know I expressed in the previous post about my journals and in a way this song is about what things could maybe be found when looking at someones past. Even though we can take a look and read what someone wrote about years ago, there still is a part of the past that is left in the individual. The unexpressed, reserved feeling of having been in that place and experience. For all the books that we might open to learn about the past, know that understanding the fullness of such things is very difficult. Yet we still have a desire to try.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Coming in the Month of June

Sitting on a shelf not too far from the computer that I type this post on are some marble composition notebooks. In these notebooks are journal entry's from the past ten plus years. I never thought that I would be continuing in such an endeavor after the first year of writing but it's something that is hard to walk away from. The journal entry's are filled with many of the ups and downs, highs and lows, triumphs and failures of the past years. All written in pro's and often times unknowingly reaching for the poetic.

I have a small book that I am writing the stories behind some of the songs and poems that I have written over the past few years. I use the marble composition notebooks as guide posts to find out exact dates and details of my life that may or may not relate to what the song or poem is about. It's while I was going through some songs written in 2000 and 2001 that an idea struck my brain. Write a song/poem everyday, for a month. Those songs/poems would comprise of a larger piece ( or concept) for an album. The more I think about the idea, the more excited I get. I have no idea what I want to write about or even if I will be capable of keeping up with such an undertaking. As I thought about the idea more and more June was still a few months off. I've decided that I will write for the month of June, but not just write for myself, but to share with everyone in blog world those writings. I've never blogged for some thirty consecutive days but if there was a reason that would make me do it, I guess it would be for creative reasons.

Why June?

June has always been a tricky month for me. It's a month that comprises of endings. There is that school component but there is also a business component. There is also a general shift in peoples attitude during the month. I don't know if it is because summer is officially beginning or that there are now allot more young people working, which makes for more interesting business interactions. The month is hard to explain. For myself, I usually go through a dip emotionally. I find myself asking allot of questions about my life and the universe in general, while at the same time trying to find the time to mow the lawn. (Mowing the lawn, by the way, is a good time to try and figure out life's greatest mystery's.)

So it is now that I announce what will be upcoming, and if there is anyone out there reading this, expect some posts in the near future. As far as the music goes, well I'll be working on that as much as I can. I'll also try to give a brief synopses on what the writings are all about.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Rocks, Blood and Bears. Or why I have no reason to complain about running on flat ground ever again.

Another year of road racing begins again and as I reach a milestone of sorts come September (my tenth year of doing 5k's) there have been many highlights over those years. But none like what happened to me on one cold saturday morning in March. Usually I like to kick off my racing year with a 5k run in Johnson Park in Piscataway with the H.I.P.H.O.P run that is usually the first or second weekend in April. (I don't remember what the letter stand for but I know it deals with a hospital.) Well this year a race appeared on my radar at the end of March that was titled the Rock Run. The location of the race was at Chimney Rock state park which is not to far from me so I figured, well this should be interesting. From the descriptions on various websites all that was told was a five mile run in the park with a time for refreshments at the Chimney Rock Inn. Looking back now this may all have been a finely woven trap to get people to run the race.

The morning of the race was a nice twenty-eight degree day in the sun. In the shade, the temp's must have been below twenty-five and the slight breeze did not help anything. With any new run I like to look at the surrounding area and see the landscape and try to figure out where I may be going. The registration sight was a pristine park, with baseball fields and benches. All in all a serene place to run. But that is where the race started, and that pristine tranquil sight gave way to the Chimney Rock Park. Before the start of the race the organizers guided us with some instructions on various parts of the course. The first part consisted of running down a path to a road and then making a right into the park. So far so good. Then came the instructions to slow down and cross a shallow stream, but no worries carefully placed cinder blocks are in the water so that your feet do not have to get wet. At that moment my internal alarm meter started to rise. The next set of instructions included making your way through the path that traveled alongside the river to the damn area of the park. Sounds easy but the course guides gave the runners a bit of advice that was highly needed. When running along the river part use your left hand to hold onto trees and your right hand for balance, also be-careful of the rocks, roots and stumps that can at any moment give way and send you either down onto rocks or into the river. The alarm meter rose higher. The final instruction was follow the signs and have fun. With a deep breath and a loud shout of go I was off.

The first part of the race before the stream was easy, then came the stream and then the path along the river and I knew that this run was going to either wound me or kill me. I made it through the river part without falling in or breaking my legs on the rock, in fact I climbed the steep hill to the observation deck on top of the hill and wound my way through the muddy paths at the top of the hill. But as the race continued the fragile signs that pointed the way started to fall off their trees and leave many of the racers confused and unsure of where to go. Every step of the course consisted of either rock, mud or leaves. At time the course would have lyrics written on paper and posted to trees from songs that dealt with rocks. I even passed a random stegosaurus hanging out in some bushes. With these peculiarities I could not help but think that this was no race that I was trying to run but possibly a circle of hell for runners. After the first loop of the race I was sent back into rocky shore line of the river. I couldn't believe that I had to run this piece of land again, and if I didn't fall or trip the first time, certainly the second time I was a dead man. But I made it through the river part and scampered my way back of the steep hill. At the top of the hill I was directed into the path for those on their second time through and it was there that the race changed for me.

After climbing my way up a short hill I took a step on what I thought was just some leaves on the ground. But underneath those leaves was a rock so unforgiving that my body couldn't help but fall over in a heap onto other rocks in a devious form of affection. I went down and I went down hard. My hip was a recipient of a nice pointy rock, my knees each getting a rock to slam into. With my body still trying to run a race I sprang up from my fall and took a step that sent a message from my hips to my head that basically said STOP!!! I tried to keep going but my legs were having nothing of it. I looked at my stop watch and it said I had been going for over thirty minutes. Usually for 5 miles on flat ground I do under 36 minutes. After my gracious fall I decided it was time to go back and call it a day. I limped through the woods, stopping occasionally to look down and see blood pouring down from my knees and to my shoes. I found the perfect walking stick and hiked my way out, each step shooting pain throughout my body. One of the race organizers saw me and thought I was some sort of mystic coming out of the woods or even a shaman. No just the guy who fell during the race. I made it to the finish line, not having done the whole race and trying to figure out if I had broken anything.

After trying to get warm and assuring those who put the race together that I was ok, I was told that even though I didn't finish the race I still won an award. Usually there are age group awards during road races so maybe I got something there but I really didn't finish the race. I went to the Chimney Rock Inn and during the award ceremony there were awards given out for those who finished first,second and so on but then there were awards for random course trivia. Like identifying what dinosaur was hanging out on the course. My award on the other hand dealt with the injury's that I sustained while running the race. That award was Most Likely To Be Eaten By A Bear. Yes, I was most likely to be eaten by a bear. In all of the races that I have run I've received awards for finishing in first place in my age group and being first overall in a race but this award shows that no matter how you run a race. Run so that you win the prize, no matter what it is. Often I think that if I don't win first place then I've waisted my time in running and that usually leads to not wanting to run. But that's not what the race is about, in the race of life were not meant to just start the race but were also meant to finish the race. There is an award waiting for all of us at the end what that award is depends on the race that you run.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Landmark Books

If you're looking for a list or my thoughts on books that have changed the world then this is not the place to be doing that looking. The Landmark Books which I am blogging about is a series of children's books which were released in nineteen fifties and sixties.

My introduction to these series of books came from my elementary school days at Greenbrook Christian Academy. Whenever there was a free reading assignment I was drawn into the Landmark books because they always dealt with something historical. Each book that I was able to read had exciting stories that brought out significant historical events and people. Within a few well crafted pages, new worlds were explored and a greater knowledge of history gained without even trying. As I have grown older I continue to find that these children's books offer a historical perspective that somehow breaks through the more adult oriented historical writings. Certainly I'm not going to quote a children's book if I need to do some research on a specific subject but I'm not inclined to read a Landmark book to gain a synopsis of an historical event or figure.

When Greenbrook Christian Academy closed I took as many of the Landmark books that meant so much to me for my own. Whenever I visit a used bookstore I look for the old Landmark books, especially ones with the dust jacket. When I discover one of the books it's as if a small treasure has been found. When the internet became a place to find things that we had thought to be long gone, my search for Landmark books became something different.

On the internet, what I thought was a treasure to be searched and hunted for became nothing more than someone's excess. My gold may have been nothing more than fools gold. It became very easy to just pay someone ninety-nine cents for five Landmark books than to try and find the same books in some used book store. Hey, it's just convenience right? You find what you're looking for and you don't even have to go someplace. But for some reason that just didn't seem right.

I'm not against buying things off of the internet but the value of the experience of finding a Landmark book in a used bookstore was something that I did not want to trade for convenience. I am beginning to find that same line of thinking in many other areas of my life. I know that Google earth can take me anywhere in the world but that doesn't mean that I have had the experience of going to places in the world.

As we move into another decade there is going to be allot of new and exciting things that will take experiences that we once had and replace with something new. Just think about all of the things the last ten years has brought us. I hope that in these next ten years we don't trade all of our experiences for something that is not an experience at all.