Fragments Of A Shattered Mind
by Jack Seaycopyright 1985 Jack Seay, Lubbock, TX USAMain Page
[email protected]
http://www.geocities.com/jackseay_2000,
Fragments Of A Shattered Mind
a poetic journal of loneliness, love, and prioritiesfreely distributable
Love makes every man a poet.
Plato
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to - William Dillon and Francis Schaeffer for teaching me truth- Donn and Marie Davis for showing me what love is
- Jay Adams for biblical instruction in how to live, forgive, and love
- Arthur Blessitt for leading me to Christ
- Harwood Steele, John Stuart, John Odom, Stan Skees, John Greko, Jack Butler, Lamesa Bible Church, and hundreds of other Christian friends who have taught me and brought me through many difficult but growing times.
- my wife, Cindy, for taking away my loneliness and giving me love instead.
God has worked through all of you.
po'em, 1. an arrangement of words in verse; especially, a rhythmical composition, sometimes rhymed, expressing facts, ideas, or emotions in a style more concentrated, imaginative, and powerful than that of ordinary speech: some poems are in meter, some in free verse.
2. a composition, whether in verse or prose, having beauty of thought or language.
3. anything beautiful in a way suggesting a poem.
And I Saw Jesus Weeping
When I was young I turned on the TV
and watched the ads for cars and food
and listened to them tear down
God and kindness and marriage
by their cursing and guns and beds
and I sat and munched my snacks.Then God opened my eyes
and I saw Jesus kneeling,
forsaken on a lonely hillside,
praying for me and weeping,
and He wiped His tears away,
and as He trembled,
so did all Creation,
except Man.I turned the TV off and went out the door
and as I walked by a stranger crying
in the gutter,
inside I could hear God
quietly pleading for me to turn around,
but I couldn't be late for church,
so I told God to leave me alone.
The blast turned my head just in time
to see the gun dropping from his hand
and the blood gushing from his head.Then God opened my eyes
and I saw Jesus kneeling,
forsaken on a lonely hillside,
praying for me and weeping,
and He wiped His tears away,
and as He trembled,
so did all Creation,
except Man.When I got to the revival meeting that night,
God spoke to my heart again.
I told Him I wasn't willing to give up
my house and car for a jungle and flies,
so I turned around, shook the preacher's hand
and walked out the back door.Then God opened my eyes
and I saw Jesus kneeling,
forsaken on a lonely hillside,
praying for me and weeping,
and He wiped His tears away,
and as He trembled,
so did all Creation,
except Man.Thirty years later I had a dream
and saw that generation of a tribe
who needed to know the Savior.
Through the smoke I could see them
and they were all people just like me,
with feelings just like mine.
Were they thinking that God was unfair?
After all, God hadn't sent someone.
They hadn't heard
how their condemning sin
could be forgiven.And I saw Jesus on His throne, saying
"I called one and pleaded with him for a lifetime
and offered to live and love and speak through him,
and he didn't come,
nor anyone else.
I opened his eyes and he saw Me
kneeling, forsaken on a lonely hillside, praying for him and weeping."But then my heart stopped
and woke me from my dream
and I stood before Jesus
and knew those thorns and nails were my sins,
and in return for all His love for me,
all I did was grieve Him
and quench Him by telling Him to go away
and my life was wasted
stepping on Jesus' face
as I walked back and forth
between the TV and refrigerator.I looked into His eyes
and the memory of His tears washed my pride away
and I looked down at my hands
and thought
that one must be holding that gun
and the other must be covered
with the blood of a thousand tribes-people
just like me,
with feelings just like mine;
but He looked at me and said
"you're forgiven",
and He looked at them,
and said,
"sorry, I never knew you",
and all Creation trembled,
including Man.Ezek. 3:18; 33:8 Acts 18:6; 20:26,27 I Cor. 9:16 Jude 23
December 11, 1979
More recent writing I have done about hell can be found here
Journal
I mustn't let anything or anyone keep me from doing God's will for my life. Nothing is worth sacrificing that. I don't want to be out of His will or be a negative influence. Looking at things from God's perspective, it would be worth a thousand lifetimes in hell to save someone from going there. So no sacrifice is too great to make. I wish it was as simple as just standing out on a street corner with a speaker and yelling the gospel to the world, but the spiritual warfare isn't always so easily waged. It's more like jungle warfare. Preparation, strategy, tact, planning, scheduling, prayer, study, and more is necessary. To win the lost (most of the time) requires me to draw up along next to them, love them, patiently teach them and answer their questions, being sure they have a good church for their teaching and nourishment. I have to look at myself, my words, actions, and attitude through their eyes. That makes a big difference. I need to read their writings, listen to them and learn their culture and philosophy. There's so much I must learn and so much I must teach. The more I learn about the needs and problems of the world, the more helpless I sometimes feel. But my influence can extend beyond what I can personally do. I can teach and motivate others to action. This I must do because this is what God has called me to. It will be hard, and I could choose an easier life, but the consequences of doing so would be eternal and extensive. I've got heaven. What does it matter what I suffer on earth.
February 11, 1983
Seem's much of my life's been spent enduring and hiding brutal and intense pain (just like many people in this world). I've been misunderstood, manipulated, and rejected again and again. But a long time ago I told God that I wanted to know and practice truth; and love everyone no matter what the cost. These are by no means easy things to do, but I cannot live my life with any lesser goals.
1981
Scintillescent
Heaven or earth borne freshness,
which I cannot tell,
is the sight and scent of my beloved.
A gentleness and sweetness
neither time nor toil can withdraw,
nor any essence surpass.
The endless days I waited
now appear as fleeting segments
as our eyes shyly embrace,
out fingertips lightly caress.
Secure in the eternity of our affection,
tiptoeing along the midnight's glowing surf,
we ponder our place
in the infinity.
July 18, 1981
Whippoorwill
Careening wildly down the vertical rails
flaming bubbles dancing through my hair
scream for joy
mind set free
Hold on tight
we're not through yet
water drop
loop-the-loop
Tumbling memories of good times past
whirling, prancing, flipping
Imagination beyond the stars
Scary heights, this creativity
Randomly ordered
diversely united
Thinking of her
mind set free
July 18, 1981
Captured by a thought of the one I love.
My heart yearns to be with her,
to touch her cheek,
grasp her hand,
whisper my innermost desires.
Sheltered in her hold
from a world pitted
against our love.
To her and God alone
can I share my thoughts
so alien to this hostile place.
Our love matched only by
and flowing from a
blood-stained cross
far away.
Whose message was
there can never be
a love too great,
too wonderful,
too ideal;
for none can surpass this.
July 28, 1981
Beauty surrounds her lovin' touch
as the multi-colored halo of
a rain drenched sky.
Like a doctor of the night
she gazes through my soul
to heal the bloody scars
of this gladiator
in retreat.
Carefully cleansing each wound,
she kisses away the pain,
and smiles.
Prepare to meet thy doom
thou great serpent of the world.
We invincible three
my Nightingale,
my God,
and me.
July 7, 1981
The Quest For The Crown
Though in more subtle ways than when Christ walked here in the flesh; God and Satan still do battle on this planet. In the minds of men the war still rages. Satan at a disadvantage (being in only one place at a time) digs his trenches, of deception disguised as truth, in the minds of kings and poets: those who rule by power of intellect or intimidation. You will find him in the university classroom, the philosopher's discussion, the editor's desk, the peace table, the battlefield, the artist's canvas, the musician's score: the places of greatest influence; often misusing God's good gifts of creativity, sex and material things to destroy those to whom they were given to benefit.But out there quietly filling his trenches behind him are a few humble souls, whose power comes from the greatest source, courageously sacrificing everything - at any cost save the truth and love with which they speak.
July 28, 1981
What If Reality
What if to us the reality of God were
as great as our husband or wife,
boyfriend or girlfriend, or ourself.
What if to us the reality of prayer
were as great as picking up the telephone.
What if to us the reality of heaven and hell
were as great as the place we live.
And what if to us the reality of every other
person's existence were as great as our own.
Would it change our life.
Would we care about a dying man around
the world going to hell as much as we
care about our own life.
Would we sacrifice our physical life
so another may gain his spiritual.
(do they even begin to compare)
Would we love the black man or Cuban or
Mexican or Vietnamese passing on the street
as much as we proclaim to love God.
Would we care about satisfying the hunger
of millions of starving men, women and children
as much as we care about satisfying
our own desires.
Would we love our enemies that hate us
as much as Christ loved his crucifiers,
for whom he died.
Would we.
Would we.What if reality
were real to us.
Would it change our life.
August 11, 1981
Alone we go
before the throne
to speak of our despair.
Cascading memories
from the past
do tumble down,
until we drown,
till lifted by a prayer.
August 13, 1981
The Poet
Painting pictures of his heart
the poet swings along,
forgetting where he's going
breaks into a song.
August 13, 1981
The courage of honesty,
the cost of truth,
the sacrifice of love.
The searching mind, the seeking heart.
Love that asks, not demands;
losing little, gaining more.
Ruthlessly rejecting, perhaps in tears,
the most cherished of beliefs
that stand not
the welcome test of truth.
Unwilling to believe anything not real,
no matter how popular and required
by society, friends, and family.
Unwilling to hate even the most vicious,
cruel, manipulating enemy
or traitorous friend.Love is risky
not loving, riskier.
The critical, crucial melting
of the mind absolutely
open to truth,
the heart totally possessed
with unselfish love.
This I embrace.
This my life
my love
my all.
August 13, 1981
Deception's scarlet memory of a haunted dying past.
Indignant at the pain he caused, the suffering and the cost.
Painted clouds of darkest hue blot the cheerless day.
But wait,
what do I see
on that far distant hill,
a cross of one who faced the throng
of humanity's unjust and cruel,
and from his lips
a word of love
tears open wide the sky.
The sun appears
for hate and bitterness dispelled
by light of God's own Son.
Only by loving everyone can you love anyone with the best love.
August 13, 1981
Fragments Of A Shattered Mind
Children of the morning sun
skipping, rolling in the grass.
Simple little children
petting frogs, climbing trees,
chasing dogs, scraping knees.
Nonplussed by harsh cruel reality,
yet possessing unperceived quality
of happy reaction
to their limited scope.Childhood's foolish song becomes
nightmare's haunting, burning question --
Is life but a dream?
Suicidal desperation
soon metamorphs
into escape from depression
of limited perceptions.
Youth's cry --
Now live it up,
life's a trip
a one shot game.Consuming flames soon fade and die,
responsibility ensues.
A lovely wife,
three kids and a dog,
too soon they're gone.
Can anything replace?Again the haunting question comes,
Was all in vain?But with the years,
life's multiplied memories;
faint glimpses of eternal truth
come dimly into view.
Vain philosophy be hanged.
It has no base
that can erase
the empty pain
of a mind that begs
for truth.Autumn's wrinkled tears
discovered joy
at last,
but not
too late.
August 19, 1981
Me and You
Particulars of the universal spectrum
flooding through my mind.
The complicated, simple reconciliation
of the theories, facts, experiences
of a million varied lives.
Curiosity compels;
strain the brain,
test the truth.
This I love,
my pleasant obsession,
to answer the unanswered,
find the unfound,
somehow bring it all together.
Separate, divide, unite,
excite the minds
of all I meet.
Thoughts to change the world
if only all knew.
Isn't that the history
of history.
I hide, yet seek
to reveal my God-given mind,
the realities, fantasies,
facts, feelings
inside
to you.
August 19, 1981
Fear fragments the hopeless days,
tears the waking heart.
I cry the pain stretched taut
by a thousand miles of
separation
from her.
I die inside,
alone,
a lonely death.
I fight the desperation.
This feeling cannot last.
all isn't lost.
I pray.
August 22, 1981
Candlelight visions of cold winter nights
snuggled by the fireplace,
whispering soft romantic poetry.
You and me forever,
protected by each other's care.
Floating memories
of summer's gentle raindrops,
thunder echoes of our heartbeat.
Snowbound together,
trapped we wish forever
in each other's arms.
I look into your longing eyes
and touch your lips,
the one I love.
August 23, 1981
Love alive
A love that gives can never grow stale;
can only grow, bloom, bear fruit,
reproduce itself in those
who taste it's sweet substance.
I fall beneath this load,
please take it away
so more can grow.
I can't but give,
my roots sink deep
in His rich love.
August 23, 1981
We match,
we set,
not playing, we love
serving each other.
Cross the net
that divides
now entangles
uniting our common dreams.
The crowd applauds,
they share our joy
but only from the distant screens.
August 23, 1981
Dream Maker
A thing of beauty do I see
from the potter's mind set free,
a visionary thinker she
of unique ability,ripping, tearing,
molding, shredding.
Dream within,
without will be
a vision image
realistic fantasy.
Beauty of the glaze
comes not
till passing through the flames.
So with she
through flames
of love lost,
but not forever,
readied to serve and
to be touched
with no loss
of pure honesty.
She tosses and turns,
our fantasy reality,
fashions my heart
with her gentle touch,
her tender smile.
I cry the joy,
the pain subsides,
mended am I.
Willingly coiled
round her tiny fingers,
shaped by her own sweet dreams,
she by mine.
Earthy style, this vessel,
bearing precious angelic essence.
Refreshing my soul,
this fragrant
scent from above,
my beautiful
mistress of creativity.I see,
I love,
We love.
August 23, 1981
I never tire of saying
I love you.
There is meaning in those words,
a solemn promise never to leave you,
commitment always to believe in you,
and if you care
your love I'll share
open arms receive you.
August 23, 1981
The Mind Of Christ
Performing every task with eternity in view can turn drudgery into joy. Disappointments, broken promises, mistakes, criticisms, cruelties seem small compared to the reward of a constantly thankful heart.Make a mistake, have to do it over? View it as experience, knowledge gained to share. Someone break a promise, disappoint you? Deal with the problem soon, settle the matter, but in love. Don't let anger explode or build pressure within; or you'll hurt yourself, those you could help in a similar place, and God. Trapped in tedious labor instead of glamorous spotlight? Faithfulness counts more than visible success when rewards are given.
Don't follow feelings. Obey His Word instead. Thank Him. Think on things above. If you suffer, don't complain, you're not the first. Consider Him. For you He died, for him you live.
August 30, 1981
Love Song
A song in the sunrise,
the touch of gentle rain,
wind whispers soft melody
through lofty pines.
Along winding forest trails,
hand in hand
meandering,
slowly discovering
our evergreen love.
August 30, 1981
Lonely, Yet Not Alone
Oh God, I cry to you
in humble desperation,
solitude
only we can share
How can I tell her
my heart
though tender,
will not shatter
if she says goodbye,
but only cry.
My life I will not take,
as I would long past,
but only give
to someone
who can take it
into their own.
Even though I love her so
a love like this,
if she'd be pleased,
can let her go.
I'm only here to do your will
Oh God, and though I lose
my world, my life,
all I own, this opportunity
for a wife;
You I shall ever have,
though tears may fall,
pain, sorrow, and worst of all,
loneliness.
All alone I'll never be
for I'll look up to You
and cry.
September 5, 1981
Ripcord
Love let me down softly.Trembling, sweating,
fear like a vise grips my heart.
Will I be broken again,
dropped like a fine wine glass,
a delicate thing,
shattered in tiny pieces again.
Lord, pick me up,
put me in place,
take me up higher,
higher than ever before,
help me jump,
take the risk,
let me fall.
This time I believe
You will let me down softly.Love let me down softly.
September 5, 1981
Can't stop loving you
no matter what I do.
Though you're a little wild and crazy girl,
and times you blow my mind,
I try to understand,
see inside of you.
Don't know if you know
why I try
to do the little things I'm always doing to please you,
make you happy I hope.
I just love you
and have to show it, that's all.
Love must give for it to grow.
Times I think you think
I'm just another good-time guy
out to get what he can
for himself.
But I'm not that way
cause my life I gave away
long ago
to Him who owns it.
Now I own nothing.
Don't want anything
but what He wants
for me to have
for just awhile
for Him to live.
For Him I live.
In each small part of life
nothing matters more.
September 9, 1981
Macho Man
He's a cruel and selfish macho man,
love them tenderly
but not for long,
the prize is gone.
Talks behind their back
bout the trophies won,
one night tricks
to satisfy himself,
for fun,
kicks.
Shows no feeling
cause he's a "man".
Now she shows none, she's not a woman anymore,
but a cold scared rabbit
running, running from love.
Now I can't reach her.
I can't teach her
what real lasting love
is all about,
cause she's been had again,
been treated so bad again,
she cries inside,
no one can see.
Damn your macho image,
macho man!
But perfect love alone
can conquer fear.
September 9, 1981
Philippians Prayer
God, let me see
right now from then,
to look at life's problems
from where I will be
a thousand years hence.
What does it matter if I don't get
My Way.
Disappointment, suffering, inconvenience,
confronted by a thankful,
joyful heart and mind,
will give me more patience.
But if I gripe and complain,
fuss and explode,
this chance I lose
to give for eternity,
to live more like Christ.
How can I bring others to You
unless they see in me - You.
Lord, help me
think before I talk,
pray before I walk astray.
Change my attitude to see
the Cross,
rejoicing that I have the privilege
to suffer with Christ
to Your glory.
You've gone the limit
already for me,
so how could I give
too much in return.
God, help me see
from eternity's view.
September 28, 1981
I Fear Alone
Imperceptibly exploding neath the depth
of the rushing mass,
accelerated memories
of all I know,
like a matrixed bank
of pinwheel computers,
scrabbled modifiers of modifiers,
the creative process springs to life.
I feed the overstuffed
synaptic boundary layer
peels off in layered
orderly mingling vortex,
all too fast to share
but captivated shadow.
Thus,
I fear alone.
September 28, 1981
For You To Know
Trying to see a lifetime
in a single flash of thought,
too strange to be fantasy,
sometimes absurd,
at times the meaning
overwhelms my mind.
None but God can see,
know all.
Feeling lonely, so lonely.
Afraid to speak
cause how can any
understand
why I am,
why I believe,
why I feel and do the things I do.
Oh for a chance,
give me time alone
with you
to pour out my heart
without fear
for once,
share my lonely soul
cry without shame.
For you to know
as I do
the part of all existence
that's come into me,
my past doubts of being -
the philosopher's awesome nightmare,
the sorrow's I've known,
my lonely thoughts.
Alone my mind explodes.
Make room in yours
and I'll for you.
I love you, I do.
Someday maybe
say you care for me
but only if it's true.
for I'm one individual
that rather would have
painful truth
than pleasant deception.
It's so lonely being different,
rejected by the crowd,
so that's why I write.
maybe just maybe
it might make a difference.
September 28, 1981 (my favorite poem)
Quiet Times
Time speaks eloquently our growing love.
Fragrant waking memories
douse the morning chill.
Peaceful midst the wartorn strife
of a world gone mad.
Mindset and readied
to frequent the haunts and caves
of the listless, deranged, confused.
Reminders of a dead past
I still remember but painfully.
We touch hands and pray,
go together our separate ways
another day
tapping on doors
of empty rooms
where people dwell
with tear-streaked watercolor smiles
in sounds of lonely silence,
talking only to themselves
in mirrors reflecting nothing.
We sing a quiet song of hope,
truth with purpose,
an undying love.
1981
I can't hide love
It will tear me apart.I love her so, she couldn't take it.
How could my love drive her away,
a love so strong
I'd die for her
now she's gone.
Sure there are others I could love
who'd love me too.
But we had so much going.
Now it's like
something beautiful has died
A creation destroyed
in agonizing death
And oh how I hate death
I cry every time
No wonder I weep so much
so long,
so bitterly.I can't hide love
It will tear me apart.
1981
I've had to go against
my feelings before,
I will again.
I'll say what I think,
not what I feel.
You wouldn't want that
My feelings don't count
They're only elusive fleeting things
One moment so real you want to die
The next they never existed.
1981
Waiting For The Taxi
Standing outside the empty mall tonight.
Rain quietly falling in shining amber
reflections on empty pavement.
Distant cars pass by
never speaking,
adding to this lonely mood.
Sometimes when the pain comes
falling slowly,
surrounding me,
it hurts so bad.
I want to scream but there's
no one there to listen.
I guess I'm a dreamer and
there aren't many dreamers
in the world
who can see beyond today,
beyond this life into another.
And you know what the song says,
Don't fall in love with a dreamer
and no one does,
but another dreamer.
But how often do two dreamers meet.
Once in a lifetime perhaps,
perhaps not.Dreams don't come true only for those
who quit dreaming.
January 17, 1982
I gaze into the eyes
of each and every I see
a life full of troubles
and joys
just like mine
as complex
fearful
full of doubts
yet believing,
but what?
Will I
share with them
the truth I know
the love I have.
Just one short life
to give
to them
to God.
Will I give
even in pain
exhaustion
loneliness
die if I have to
for even that one over there
who hates
abuses
manipulates me
even though I don't feel like it.
Christ did for me
died for me.
Will I live
only for myself
and deprive others
of a part
of myself
and God
of all.
September 1982
The seer I,
unknown to those
who know me.
Around the world I see
and into eternity's reality.
If at times it seems I'm not concerned
about your
Many
American
Desires,
it's just that I can see
into the tortured empty stomachs
of the world's starving millions.
It's not that I don't care
for you.
All the world's riches I'd give to you
if I didn't have to take it all away
from those who need it more.
I see the people who have
no hope
no love
at all.
I see the eternal pain of those
who never know
the Savior.
I see that beyond the
partial political solutions
there awaits
the Prince of Peace and Justice coming
after His way
we prepare.
I see inside myself
more clearly than you know
the sins that hold me back
and pull me down.
And yet I see
though not with eyes
the strength I need
offered
with open arms.
September 1982
There I see
her
Does she see
me.
Why am I
afraid
as always.
Would she like me
or will I be
just another
intrusion.
Will one of us
get hurt
if I say
hi
then more.
But if I must
be hurt
let it be
for love
as He was.
January 1983
A Better Way
don't teach me your hate
your petty vigilantism
getting even
for what's been done
to You.
There are those
who hate me too
but I can't,
I won't
become like them.
I will fight evil
by doing good.
God has His own ways
of final justice.
I won't take His place.
The Better Way -
attack problems, not people
February 8, 1983
Lord, Keep First
God see me here
under conflicting, unfair demands
battered, threatened by fear
trying to please this man.They surround me,
wonder why,
cause they can't know me,
for what I'd die.Others do as they feel.
Revenge and hatred they
with slicing tongue can kill,
protecting what can never stay.Give in, should I ever
to this coercive, enticing dance.
Compromise, I will never
with my only one life chance.Lord you know what life can be
in midst of hostility.
How I want to be free
to live in love and tranquility.But You know, You know
what pressures I must bear
to mature and grow
and become as You are.
February 26, 1983
Just Following His Example
A guy told me today
how stupid I was to care,
an idiot to throw my money away
helping people who gave me
little or nothing in return.
He asked impudently
was I a *!>�#@ bleeding heart or something.I paused
then repliedBillions hurt within and without;
trying to ease the pain
they destroy their minds
and bodies
and dreams,
my heart bleedsMillions of men beat their
wives and kids,
my heart bleedsTens of thousands of precious lives
are snuffed out each day
in starving agony,
my heart bleedsOver a hundred thousand people
go into eternity each day
not knowing the God they must face,
my heart bleedsand bleeds
and bleeds
and bleeds...
February 19, 1983
Sincerely Yours
What is a penpal
Is not a penpal a person
just as solidly real
as any you know.
Where you spend hours
putting your heart
in ink,
they spend days
gently picking it up
making it theirs
and sometimes
letting a teardrop
fall
and mingle
with well tempered words.
March 12, 1983
Oh Dread World
that mystifies and frightens
at the thought.
Black doors
behind which
blacker still
lie unknowns
How to say
know not
But thank God
I have reason
to believe
and fall
before His awesome
but consoling
Presence.
March 17, 1983
I want to be there when you hurt
to soothe and comfort your tattered dreams
as sandpaper against sandpaper
loses it's rough edge.
The world like a raging stampede
would have you fall beneath it's crush
I run to cover you
and find
mysteriously
you cover me.
March 23, 1983
She Must Know Love
Walk softly
she's been trampled on before
Speak kindly
whisper her name
Touch gently
her body's bruised and broken
take away the pain
soothingly calm her fearsPause awhile and rest
Relax
Sleep weary soldier, sleep
April 3, 1983
The Secret
In honesty
we strip our outer selves
and stand gazing at each other
totally open
hiding nothing.
Despite once hidden flaws
now is beauty of a sort
the world never sees
and in midst of guilt forgiven
an Edenic closeness blooms.
We touch hearts
in ways no one's touched before
and where once was feared rejection
hiding in the bushes of our minds
now we see inside
how uniquely same
we are.
The deeper you go, the closer you are.
- Jane Ehrenwald
truth makes life meaningful
love makes it tolerable
April 8, 1983
Frustration And Resolve
Oh God, what can I do when no one will believe in my love,
and no one can handle my honesty.
I can't stop loving
and I can't stop being honest.
I'd rather die.
I guess I'll just have to keep loving
and keep being honest
until I die,
even if no one notices me,
but You.
May 2, 1983
Agony And Death In Disguise
Truth has separated me
from the ones I love
I stand alone
lonely alone
in the cold dark dungeon of my mind.
I can't say I love you
they say I lie
This man explains away your love
with a word
Our social dictates say
you can't love under these circumstances.
If I speak truth
they say I lie
Shut up your mouth
you have no degrees
you can't speak truth
you don't follow our creeds to the letter.
They say alone isn't lonely
They don't know me
how alone I really am
No one knows me,
no one,
no one,
no one but God and I,
no one else.But I'm a Christian
I should have joy
Where is my joy?
I think joy
is trusting God
in pain
Joy is living
when I want to die,
loving when the feeling has been
knocked out of me
repeatedly,
taking another step
when I have no strength left,
holding to the truth
when I stand alone.When I'm gone
others will understand.
They see only the sins of the living,
only the virtues of the dead.
Only the dead get respect.
But I don't even expect respect anymore
I only want the chance to speak the truth
and give my love
to glorify God
whether by living or dying.
Nothing else really matters anymore
I see no other fulfillment
all other pleasures
when sought
are agony and death in disguise.
June 18, 1983
I'm playing for keeps
while you're playing games
Would you stay for me
and with me
always.Am I just another square
in your monopoly
games are part of life
but also pain and strife
won't go away
by turning your glances
you've got to take chances
There's no other way
Don't throw it away.It's only by carrying
the load of a brother
that another will take
your arm on his shoulder.
July 7, 1983
The Door
Wake, Oh please wake
from your pessimistic fantasies
Love is here
at long
last
hurt and pain
is all you've known
before
now
after all these long
horrible years
I'm knocking
at your door
Please awake
to love
at last.My heart is in your hands.
July 23, 1983
One desperate
plunge
after
another
How long
can I go on
smashing
my face
against the wall
of lovelosing my grip
but not
lost
entirely.
August 6, 1983
Behind These Eyes
Heart full of
love's piercing darts
fiery arrows
twisted round
broken off
still bleeding,
my hand still open
searching in pain
for that one who
can take my heart
of flesh,
not telling me
it should be stone
colder than death
crushing
destroying without feeling
instrument of agony,
dumb rock of heart
I cannot bear.
Won't someone somewhere
please wrap me in your loving arms.
Wish I knew.
...still waiting
August 27, 1983
Gaunt bony sockets
bloodshot weeping eyes
full of disease
living skeletons breathing
painful gasps of despair,
Here, please take my opulent luxury.but oh, you say,
a piece of bread
a bowl of beans
will make you smile.
I never saw it so-before.
September 20, 1983
Surviving
time retreating,
I advancing
left behind
running
just barely breathing
squeezed into life's
not easy as
child's vision
want to say it's all over world
I'm dropping
this day's too full
of pain
sorrows
problems
some mine
but the future
is why I don't
it's why I grit my jaw.
tomorrow maybe,
today no comfort
no one to trust
none who know
none I can touch anyway
I desire to live easy life
for others
but they don't mix
guess that's why most don't.
want to live for God
but how
when not enough time
to maintain status quo
not enough money
for all everyone's needs
my energy drains
finite I discover
but this need
to be needed won't go
who can be satisfied
with what little I have
don't know
still running
backward
down the waterfall
help
October 28, 1983
Song Of Joy
Soaring first through angry clouds
but above rising when
dismal refrain
gives way to song of joy.
Answers come to those who seek
beyond despair beyond despairing tears,
now moist drops of grateful love
to God who knows
after all
knew all along
the needs that waited lonely years
to train this broken heart to mend
and overflow.
November 9, 1983
Sweetly I love
beyond the hushed dreams
washing upon the slow waking
a calming flow unseen
but felt
spreads upon
inside me
yielding but the softest
glow of contentment,
only a dream
but almost
almost
December 14, 1983
To love God
and be loved
and ... another
who cares tooThis a trinity
of compassion
no passion can destroy
a joy no other
can fathom
who hasn't
the same,
a peace
contentment
that quiets the
ragged battered heart
This love
the whole world needs
and craves,
but doesn't know.
but I do
We do.
March 28, 1984
Ms Taken
Tell me, O great ones
from your pulp pulpits
virtues and joys
of independence
SELF sufficiency
I know -
at least you tell me so
I don't need him
don't need love
it doesn't exist.
And so I strive
for "equality"
but why, great ones
am I still empty.
July 22, 1984
At times it seems
what's the use
who cares
to know
to share.
Who do I trust
is it not You?
I know it's so
and whatever else
this world may scorn
You are there
and here of course
I know,
but enough?
Each day as myriad details
...surround...
my heart abounds
You are inside!
July 22, 1984
Dear Father
my heart
You know.
Please still
it's
trembling inside
but You see
Oh, God
I can't go alone
help me touch
with true concern
their heart
with Yours.
July 22, 1984
IT IS FINISHED
He said,
He thundered.It forever echoes
IT IS BEGUN.
July 29, 1984
Journal
This adult world is difficult in the extreme. When I was young, I couldn't have imagined it would be so. With knowledge of the truth comes an awesome amount of responsibility. I know now where many of the world's problems are. And I must do something about them. I wish I could solve them all, but I can't because I'm finite. So I must find the greatest needs that I can take care of and do that. Being disciplined is difficult because I'm torn in so many directions. There is so much yet to learn to be able to do what I must, and there are needs to be taken care of now. And I need to spend a certain amount of time praying and studying the Bible. I can't tolerate the thought of wasting my life and the opportunities God has given me. God has given me a difficult task from which I cannot back down. It's easy to lose track of the priorities in the middle of all the details and trivialities. But life in this world demands a balance of attention between the two. There are many details to learn both to communicate truth to this generation and to earn a living. But I mustn't lose track of the purpose of life itself. There is the difficulty of serving people without having them manipulate me completely out of God's will. It's not easy, but that's life. I am misunderstood and will continue to be misunderstood, but I can't reject truth because of it. I will not live in dishonesty. The most difficult problem I face is not the world, but myself, my lack of discipline. It's easier to just avoid wrestling with the real and difficult questions people have, but I don't have that option if I'm to be in God's will. To take the truth seriously is sometimes a painful thing to do. But eternity for others depends on me doing that. Too many times I've compromised to make things easy. That must stop - now.
September 21, 1984
The Sorrow Is His
When I am held
in mindless stupor
of sin's degrading grasp,
the sorrow is His.When "wise men" seek
yet close their eyes to Truth
When their subtle, sophisticated doubts
assail my mind
attack my sanity,
the sorrow is His.I look around and behold
struggle and striving,
cruel carnality,
lostness and loneliness.Then I look up,
be still
sensitive
quiet.I perceive a cross
There sorrow was His
He knows.O foolish heart of mine
He cares
He cares
October 28, 1984
A Place To Belong
True honesty, a frightening exhausting
painfully lonely way.I used to think I'd find someone
to love
who'd love and understand me, too
it was just a cruel dream
to damn my agonizing single nights
and now my days.
It never gets easier
only worse
only lonelier
eating the bitter dust of reality.
Cause no one really understands
at least it seems so now
as far as I know
but now won't be forever
There's a dream to capture
tomorrow.Now God seems so far away
when I can't touch Him,
when circumstance rips at innocence.
I want to run
to someone who will
hold me
and keep me from
self-destruction.
please God stop me.Society damns the honest man
who finds a chink in their
groupthink
I don't belong here
among these people, although I love them.
They reject what I am
thinking above my frozen tongue.
I dare to question -
demand and answer.
It scares me to be
a pioneer
breaking ground
on the faultlines
of all their groups.I just can't
plant both feet
in one,
can't put my arms
around someone
without reserve,
without fear of rejection.So now I stand by myself
not knowing
if I'll die alone.
And so I go on and on
paying the price
of becoming an educated man
torturing myself
drowning my brain
in caffeine
Why?
So someone will listen
to me screaming inside
inside
crumbling
breaking down
trembling
crying
reaching
for truth,
and then sometime
in the distant future of hope,
I'll teach
and somewhere
someone will listen.
At least I won't be
all alone.
January 5, 1985
Another Saturday Night
Didn't ask anyone
can't stand repeated rejections.Red and white lights
driving round and round
stopping, staring a moment
solitary drivers
not waving, just ... wanting.A busy, noisy game - room
full of players of games,
Small groups
none looking
but at the monitors.
Neither feel for me.
A thousand faces
none smile,
gotta look tough.Into a restaurant,
table for one
as always
silence
only background noises.
Tap my foot
to nonexistent music.
Reach out my hand
no one takes it.
Close my eyes
retreat inside
see the wasting years
looking for that one
who sees my vision
and cares as I do.
Not finding.Going "home"
to a quiet madness,
an unwanted independence.Another day, another week,
another year
hanging onto life
for reasons outside myself.
January 20, 1985
Outcast Coming Out
When I fall lowest
He helps me reach highest,
grasp another hand
two quiet hearts singing,
solemn voices blend,
others joining.
We look up and see
the Father smiling.I wonder
are others out there,
huddled weeping persons
crushed by a hundred tangled problems,
thinking no one cares.Perhaps each day
we rub shoulders
but never touch.God, you know my request
please smile again.
February 3, 1985
Beauty In Midst Of Chaos
We transfix sight
on network interpretation
of tired sad globe
groaning under staggering weight
of intellectual progress
not having wisdom to understand
and be gentle, humble,
under Your command.
Please give this weary mind
Your clear view
of love beneath the clutter,
of good overcoming
threats of aggressive minds
that see only evil -
until now.
Let them see in me
Your strength that doesn't fail
under fear of their facade.
My mask is weakness
You dwell within;
a surprise
if I but let You have Your way.
I shall go,
carry light
in this deep valley of despair.
I go not entirely alone.
March 3, 1985
Tryst
Beguiling shades of iridescent hue
new vision, surrender to beauty
dreams are this, O cool sleep
gaze through my open heart, there you
in deep painted glassy forest I see
treasure immeasurable, we keep.
Death In The Desert
Distributed with multiplied wealths of untold
knowledge and beauty,
I kiss the skeleton child's shrunken cheek,
hopelessly seeking to relate this part to the whole
of life
and death.
But the empty feeling,
the angst
escapes soon after.
I go alone to my now bleak
hotel suite
and try to hide the
haunting memory
of what I've seen.
But I see the reflection,
of myself alone
trying not to care,
in the teardrop on my clean white china.
I wash my hands
then stumble out the door
facing the cold, cold wind
to touch that cheek once more.
June 24, 1987
Return
God, You know what You are doing in letting us suffer far more than we want, our self-pride, self-confidence, self-esteem, self-love, self-pity to kill. You know the future, how far to take us in this school of humility to make us servants who glorify only You and live for You, for eternal values, and not for success, prosperity, health and other vain worldly things. God, purify your Church from the pollution of this world's deceptive psuedo-scientific, self-psychologies.
June 1997
I don't have the right to...
blame God for my problems or others for my sins.
complain except in love to the one who can right the wrong.
say I own my own body or treat it that way.
put myself before others or anyone before God.
gossip or slander.
be deliberately ignorant or lazy.
hold a grudge or use anger destructively.
demand God to do what he hadn't promised me.
think of only myself or today.
believe what I know isn't true or do what I know isn't right.
refuse to face reality.
fight except in defence of others or myself when there's no other way out.
intimidate, manipulate, or abuse people.
let emotions run my life rather than the Spirit of God and the Word of God.
force someone to believe against their will.
demand of God that He remove the temptations, persecutions, and suffering from my life.
disobey those in authority over me unless they tell me to disobey someone who has even higher authority.
Who am I?
Without youFeb, 16, 1999Each word is half a word,
each thought is half a thought
my other half is goneCut in half,
just half a man
bleeding from my side
where you were
part of me.Watch the clock,
second hand,
click...click...click
relentlessly moving me
from now till
my death
with nothing
but emptyness
and seconds between.This my life now,
if life it can be called.
Wish I could hope,
not up to me,
my door stands open,
but only to you.Half a word is silence,
half a thought is despair,
half a joy is sadness,
half a love is loneliness.
Loneliness the hardest
pain I know.Half an eye cannot see beauty,
half an ear cannot hear laughter,
half a mouth cannot kiss
or sing of joy,
and half a soul just
watches the seconds,
click...click...click...click...
... ... ... ... ...I'll bleed alone
till you come back
and join me,
make me whole again.
The 20th Century Dilemna:
5-19-2000pain, torture, and agony
cruel despotic infliction of wrenching horror
far beyond physical senses,
despair of hope, of compassion,
millions have suffered
still do
in the insane
slums of hideous affliction
of multiplied tortures -Against All Hope in
the concentration camps of Castro's Cuba,
daily beatings and deprivation -
starvation, disease, submersion into filthly waste
threats to loved ones;The stinking rivers of the Indonesian Upheaval flowing
with hundreds of thousands
of bloated headless bodies;Death of a Gentle Land,
the bloody countryside of Pol Pot's Cambodia,
indescribable waking nightmares
no words or images can depict;The streets of Haiti,
wanton dehumanization
treating men, women, and children worse than
fleas on wild dogs,
the endless chain of bestial horrors
savagely brutally inflicted.My soul cringes with vicarious pain,
the truth, the reality of
what really exists
is worse
than the most demented imagination conjures.Oh God, what am I to do with all this?
Where is God?
Do these monsters think
they can kill Him by proving
He doesn't care enough to stop them?
Please God end this damn waking earthly hell
before we all die of a vacuum of hope.Is this just the price of the freedom
we live and die for?
When will the cost be justified?
I am mad at the whole human race
for this callous disdain of
other's pain.
But I am part of this tribe
of savages stupidly calling
ourselves civilized
who don't deserve that title.What have I done to stop it?
What have I risked?
hiding in my placid pew
locked behind protective walls
that keep me from the truth.
Do I want to be deceived,
fed the popular lies of
the innate goodness
and innocence of Mankind?
Perhaps it's no wonder it continues
when we hide from brutal truth
as if not seeing
makes it unreal.
Open eyes burn from the searing heat
of reality,
but at least
they see,
they are not dead.Pain proves I'm alive
in this world
where pain is most abundant.
Pain is the high price of admission
to humanity.But I keep wondering-
is suffering the meaning of life?
and if so, what is the meaning of suffering?
or if pleasure,
then is all pain
caused by someone
else's pursuit of pleasure
here or beyond life,
seeking to escape pain,
they unknowingly
inflict it.Who am I really angry at?
No easy answer,
the answer isn't easy.
Getting Over You
Feb 23, 2001So I don't miss you not being here
I just think of you all the time.I know I made lots of stupid mistakes
seems that's how I learn
idiot that I am
I'm sorry I hurt you by my foolish failures
I didn't know how much
till it was too late
too late
too late.So I don't miss you when I'm sleeping
I just dream of you
vivid ones each time I wake
of floods, storms, falling, losing and finding each other
over and over.So I don't miss you when I'm alone
I weep for both of us
I feel great and constant pain
barbed wire ripping through my heart and stomach
I hurt deeply for both of us
but not joy
not joy
not ever.So I don't miss living with you
which for me meant living
I just think of myself as suspended between life and death
waiting to live again
to be whole again.Yes I'll be over you soon
as soon as my next life begins.I just wish it could begin again
with you.
"Life"
April 1, 2001Without you I am not alive
Each day I go through the motions
of teaching this dead person to act alive
To fool others into thinking I am cognizant
Of existanceTo keep from killing myself
I learned to think of myself
as already dead
Now it is true
I believe that I amBut in this world of fools
of which I am the greatest
I must convince the cheery-faced automatons
of commercial conformity that I am not
as unhappy as I really amAfter a while, I'll have everyone fooled
except myself
and God.
Poets
April 1, 2001Someone tells me
"all poets are liars"
Words of a poet
I suppose.
We
April 6, 2001I gave you something more
than a piece of paper
I gave you my life
and you gave me something more
than a piece of shiny metal
You gave me your heart
And if the world crumbles
around us
We've lost nothing.
I am feeling no pain
July 19, 2001I keep telling myself
I am dead
I can feel no pain.
No one can hurt me
When I am rejected, disapproved
(having given everything, holding nothing back
I still can't please),
I will feel nothing
There is no more me,
no pain of love lost, no soul to hurt.
I am a machine
my purpose is just to produce,
gears will keep grinding away inside me.
But if it's true,
why must I keep telling myself.
A.I.
Sept. 30, 2001You are my blue fairy
You made me real
When no one else would love me
You said the words that bound me
And if you no longer would love me
I would be destroyed.
And now I am in pieces
But each one still loves you
and I await the touch of
Your hand
One last time.
I wait in darkness
Only you in my vision
Please love me again
and make me real.
Sept. 30, 2001
I may think deeply,
but I feel more
because I hurt
and think so much,
I know I'm
still alive.
Don't take away my pain
without giving me joy,
else I be empty
and a cold dark stone.The uniqueness of my beliefs
both separate me from
everyone I love
and makes me know I
haven't become a machine.
Because I question everything,
those I love most
have rejected me,
and I am cast
out and fall on the
shards of lonely desolation.
The glass is stained blood red
with my pain.
Dead bodies don't bleed,
they feel no pain,
they question nothing,
they never disagree,
they don't think.
Each night I lay down
one last time.
Each morning I awake
one last time
on this earth
made lonely
by the desolation of separation
of my uniqueness.
Of course I'm not the only unique person.
But some who think it's possible
to not think for yourself
and still be alive,
see my grasping for reality
as threatening
to a comfortable status quo.But the horrible state of most lives
I can't accept as good,
and must do all I can
to make things better,
else why even be here?
May 26, 2002
To fully know someone.Do you know my every thought, inner feeling and turmoil, every sensation of my body and environment? Not just this continuum of infinite moments comprising this second, but every second of my life. I do not conform my every thought to convention and culture, to fleeting fad and fashion. My beliefs are not simple, even to myself. I have attempted to conceptualize what it would take to write my life on paper, but life is more than words can communicate, it is not condensable; it cannot be summed without losing accuracy or without the selection of great condensation. And life goes on changing constantly even after the ink is long dry. The whole is so much more infinite than the sum of the infinite number of parts, the infinitely continuously divisible moments, the millions of constantly changing tiny fragments of sensation, feeling, and thought merged into conscious being. Who can even define it in thought, much less words, even these words? And if they could, the definition would be but an inaccurate selection, an abstraction far removed from the reality, a frozen slice of time, fictionalized from a "life". Who can know a life truly, any life - but an infinite life?Even science has confounded itself, in defining the infinite parts, infinitesimal, changing in the continuum of time, a life, each indefinably greater than a universe filled with the abstractions of words encoded in subatomic bits, each life loving, touching, abstracting in their own minds the floods of memories, feelings, sensations modified by thoughts and memories of past moments and groups of moments, interacting with other people, hugging, talking, eyes touching. Each life, each person not truly knowable in essence but nevertheless experienced in our own abstracted from fragments of reality way. Those who try to conceptualize life as merely reason or empirical experience are eliminating whole infinities of the reality of the whole, because by excluding the other, whether reason or experience, a vast part of reality has been summarily executed. By including both, a reality infinitely more infinite than any mere human can experience even a moment of, even if the whole of life were expended trying to consume and sum that moment, has been embraced; a God-like task if ever there was one. And if it be postulated that the sum is greater than the parts, and how can it not be, then the job is ended before it can begin. Were I to fill the oceans with my prose and poetry, and that of all others who create such, it could not but give a glimmer of that thing we call life; a word of four letters itself inadequate to such a task as trying to encompass the unencompassable.
Perhaps a bit of mathematics would help here. Mathematical space extends in all directions infinitely. A point in that space has no size. You can zoom in on it forever and never see it, only point to it's location. Each life is like a point in space, existing in this physical Universe for but a point in time. And yet each life contains in itself an infinite space of details, infinite segments of time and interactions with other lives and the external environment. Of course, mathematics describes universes of imaginary universes, most waiting yet to be discovered or created. None of which describes the real Universe, which can only describe itself, for a moment, continuously changing. But are we capable of receiving such a description? I am not demeaning either science or math here, but merely pointing out our need for humility in view of the limitations of the smallness of our capacity for knowledge. We need science to show us at least a fraction of what exists, and mathematics to give us mental models, metaphors for reality. But we must not overreach to unwarranted conclusions that we cannot support.
The study of war, disease, accidents, and human cruelty may seem to cheapen life to total meaningless. But these things strike us as so horrible precisely because of what they destroy. The mind is a beautiful thing to waste. Yet if life truly ends forever at death, then it is in fact meaningless, as all history is only a point in infinite time. And when, on the timeline of eternal time, past history, then what could be made of that futile and tragic, but now meaningless, point that was, but is no more? This has all been said before in the book of Ecclesiastes. Some say "enjoy the present". But it is continuously consuming the future and turning it into past. Can anyone even comprehend what is the present moment? An indefinably small point in continuously changing time, a knife point of no size stroking continuously along the line of time, incomprehensibly converting the future, (a reality not yet existing), into the past, (unchanging reminder of what once was the present). This present, of no size and no duration, once past, retrievable only by reminder of memory or physical artifact; many consider to be the only reality.
Definitions:
Continuum - On a line, there are infinitely many points on the segment between 2 numbers (0 and 1, for instance). Between any two of these points, no matter how close, are infinitely many more points. And between any of these are infinitely many more points, and so on forever. It is not possible to even identify the "next" point on the line, because no matter how closely you choose a point, there are still infinitely many more points in between. Time, although a continuum, moves at a relentless, constant pace. If your segment of time measurement is cut in half, each new segment passes twice as fast as the previous measuring unit of time. It isn't possible to say you will travel along a line from each point to the next. You can only jump from point A to point B in a given amount of time, passing over at any given segment of the line an infinite number of points. Time is a continuum, as are planes and space. Between any two moments (fractions of a second) are an infinity of moments of time. Between any two parallel lines or planes are an infinite number of lines or planes. Any line segment contains infinitely many segments, because each segment can be divided again forever. Any square or box can be subdivided forever. Any square can contain infinitely many overlapping and embedded squares. To get anywhere in time or on a line, plane, or space requires dispensing with the whole idea of traveling to the next point.Mathematical space - Given any point in space, an infinite number of lines on a plane intersect the point. Make that point the center of a sphere. There are an infinite number of points on that sphere, no matter how small it is. A single line passes through each of these surface points and the center point. Each of these lines intersect an infinite number of planes. Each point of all those planes can then become the center of an infinite number of spheres. Between any two spheres sharing the same center point (no matter how close the spheres), there are an infinite number of spheres. Every point in space is the center of an infinite number of spheres. There is no closest sphere or furtherest sphere. If you try to designate a closest sphere, it contains an infinite number of spheres within it. If you try to designate a furtherest sphere, there are an infinite number of spheres containing it. There are an infinite number of 2 and 3 dimensional shapes, each containing an infinite number of points. Every shape other than a single point has an infinite number of points. Every point in space can be designated as any of the infinite points in a shape, and for all of the infinite shapes, each in infinite sizes, rotated in an infinite number of angles of each of the 3 dimensions separately and in all combinations. Add: partially and fully filled shapes, line segments, fractals and other forms of random and calculated shapes (2 and 3D), movement, morphing, and change through time, and infinite dimensions.
Wasted Promise
Nov. 28, 2003When you left
I died
and have been shuffling in death
these years since
those around know not
of my passing from life
to this middle world
of pain and passion
time suspended
between birth and the grave
still waiting for this body.
Soon it will join my spirit there
and new life will replace mine
like each new spring
filling the graves of the past
with seeds of tomorrow.
But is this life of mine all wasted
nothing of value to leave
all disappears when I am gone.
Like a beautiful but flawed painting
burning to become pigment for
the next artist
who makes the same mistakes
and suffers the very agonies I tried
to stop.
By Now
March 6, 2005
By now you should know
I love you
It's been years of being all alone in the world.
But I've not given myself to someone else
even though that would have been the easy thing to do.
I gave my word to you and only you,
a commitment unto death that no one on heaven or earth can corrupt,
even though it costs everything
I am and have, my life, my years in this body on this earth.
I don't, I can't take such things lightly.
I can't tell God, after all, that he's a liar,
although He can say to all the false counselors
on earth that He alone has the last word.
God put us together, and all the evils and false dictums of a corrupt society
can't shred that bond using slivers of paper.
A thousand and a million years from now, as eternity just begins, and all we had is dust,
the truth of the unbreakable bond of love that only God creates,
and none can destroy, will be known to all.
By now you should know I love you, but if not, just wait.
You will eventually.