Who am I... that you are mindful of me?

This life that most of us presume as a journey - it's not following through. I've managed to build myself upon this rock of self righteousness and just possibly, I let my mind race a little too far. What are we but an empty shell? All that we are capable of is unable to sustain feeling for more than an instant, in fear that we might jeopardize what others see in us. Your burdens are stuck between your teeth.

In life, I see but one solution that will quench the things I crave. That solution is the thing I crave itself. Is it such a sin to want something so much that you are willing to do anything to grasp it? Are you ready to give up your belief that He will save you? I asked for rain - You gave me a storm. By now I should know the signs.

Time passes too slowly. Each tick on the clock signals every second I'm spent without You guiding me in light. For now, I am engulfed with darkness. All I see in front of me are what small, unholy, narcissistic things my lips long to taste. My fingers inch their way into deep pockets and find themselves lost. I must have crawled in too deep. Turn me face down so that I might not see what I have done.

I pray one day I'll run and never tire. I am now prepared to seek your face. It's been long enough that I've lived in this hole. They will never fulfill me like You do. They will never hold me as close as You do. They will never love me, and mean it, like You do. I surrender this race. My heart is caught between the blinding light and dusty shade, but You won't let them break me. Not again.

Who am I that you are mindful of me?
I am but a widow broken with grief.
You always find the light in me.
....................

I'd Like to Thank the Academy

I raise a toast to you: my weakness. This sip of wine will lower your blow. Ignorance is bliss when you alone control who knows. I've raised the curtain and certainty stand at center-stage. It blows kisses to the crowd on their feet, yet still manages to destroy stop signs at four way streets. Certainty alone cannot make wise the simple. Pupils blind sighted by fog and feelings determined only by touch; these things destroy the mind. It is these things that make you wish that texture of cloth and smoothness of skin still lingered. Your biggest secret lies between his teeth. Only such promises you're unwilling to keep. In darkness and behind closed doors, solutions overcome you and themselves. I need you to turn me face down: only so that i might not see what i have done. Go forth and rest this case.

I strive for more than punches and failed exertions.

Can't you believe that this satisfies you as much as me... I'd like to thank you for being so addicting. End scene.

Watching Jordan

If you've been to the sun-ripe side of the river, then you've seen Mr. Jordan.
With his velvet locks and Grey roots, his awkward sway as he steps.
He'll be carrying a fisher's pole horizontal across his broad shoulders.
For so long the shape of the pole has rested there,
Now indenting itself into his deadened posture.
A half empty bucket at his side, he waits and watches
For the twinkle of fin to catch his eye.
The bait is fidgety now and ready to be called to its fate.
The sun now starting to wrinkle his skin for it is thrice the hour.
Sweat pouring down his brow, he never moves until the precise moment
Of switch and engage -
No pressure of anticipation will break his concentration.
His muscles twitch.
Ready to make his move.
Then with a sudden leap it flies out of the wave
And back under again right as he casts out the line.
White knuckles grabbing the handle,
Ready to fight for his pride.
It will be his first catch if he makes this right;
He'll have a prize to take home for once in his river-side life.
If you stay long enough, you'll see him struggle with the line
As if his life were attached on the other side.
But he won't last long.
His tiredness overwhelms his aged body
And soon he is forced to give up.
It's an experience to watch Mr. Jordan.
For if you've seen him once,

You know he'll be back again tomorrow.