Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Los Ojos
I have always loved eyes. The first thing I notice in a person are their eyes; those fascinating orbs of color and light.
I love how eyes sparkle. Dance. Laugh. They can cry too. They can speak an entire language, all their own. You can have a whole conversation with someone, and never utter a single word. It's a beautiful reality. Eyes.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Miscellaneous Poetry
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
USD Tournament
Monday, March 9, 2009
A heart speaks...
Across the deserts of my heart she flies.
Going nowhere, thinking nothing,
But furious questions and anguished cries.
Why? Why?
If I was truly loved, would not my heart feel?
Imaginary doors slam in a
Cold, dark world of steel.
Pain. Anger. Confusion. Tears.
Introverted cries for help.
Yet she is strong and never bends
Defending those who need her help.
Unwavering. Pretending to be strong
Dry eyes in a torrent of painful rain.
Heart crying, face clenching
Eyes glistening, she vows again.
Burning, roaring, silently fuming
Across the deserts of my heart she flies.
Going nowhere, thinking nothing,
But furious questions and anguished cries.
Why do you turn your head? Why do you ignore?
It all continues, never-ending
Ceaseless insanity and pain.
She's wounded, but unbending.
Call it stubborn, call it pride.
You'll never know, you'll never feel.
It's called endurance, it's called survival.
A hideous dance on a cyclical wheel.
And yet, she's needed.
She cannot run.
A solitary pillar in a crumbling world.
Desperately holding nothing, beneath a glaring sun.
Nothing's right. Nothing's wrong.
It's a world without a name.
Ignore it. Just move on.
It's a sick and endless game.
Silent. Keep it secret.
Ignore explosions in the front.
Hide them, swallow them.
Let your heart endure the brunt.
Torn. Callused. Weary. Hardened.
Is it wrong to feel this way?
"Love your enemies", it tells us
And yet, it's repeated ever day.
"I love you" makes me cringe
The hug is just a show
My heart has departed
It's hiding, lost within my soul.
Can I smile? Can I laugh?
Yes, it's easy to pretend.
And yet, beauty abounds
Aesthetics help a saddened spirit mend.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Let The Little Lady Talk
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Mysteries
Staring up through the porthole of a WWII German Submarine sunk off the chilly Terschelling coast, I couldn't help but be fascinated. Covered in stubborn barnacles and the aging fingerprints of long-gone seaweed and coral, this once powerful and fearful machine of war now sat in grave silence. It seemed to whisper the sea's mysteries as the wind whistled through decades-old rivets and empty torpedo shells. It groaned and creaked...seeming so displaced there on shore.
It waited in silence. A single pulley, without rope, without function or purpose. Quietly waiting. For what? The Spanish breeze danced across the cracking and crumbling plaster of the old Canarian house, and the single wooden shutter slammed - open, shut, open, shut. And yet, inside the motionless house, that single pulley hung. Motionless. Undisturbed. Waiting.
--
There are many things I find mysterious. Strange. Puzzling. So many thing beg my attention, and yet stubbornly refuse to yield information or explanation.
Tonight, for the last 9 hours, actually, it's been nothing but debate, debate, debate. Are the nutritional suppliments found in a bar of peanuty-paste really going to help anything? Is sanitary water an achievable goal for India and what about hinuistic religious barriers? Does the U.S. have any business providing humanitarian aid whilst drowning in our own economic recession? What about Kashmir; do we just ignore them? Are microloans a blessing or a blight? Do I sound like enough of a geek yet?
9 hours. And yet, just like many other intriguing monsters the answers remain elusive. Difficult. Complicated. Fascinating. 4 more days, folks. Four short days until it'll all packed up and we leave for San Diego. I absolutly can't wait - and I have to squelch my excitement in order to productive at ALL!
German legend has it that if you spin the golden circlet three times and make a wish, it'll come true. Why a golden orb surrounded by dark iron? How many people have spun that circlet? Did Hitler? Did a Jew, standing in the town square? I guess I'll never know.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Muddled Musings
Favorite moment, besides those two glorious surprises at award ceremony, would have to have been flying back to the tournament during debate semis and finals and hoping into the jacuzzi for 20 minutes before changing back into "professionality." Chad, Zack and I raced down the three flights of stairs, stumbled out the door, frantically whizzed around the pool gate and slowly, happily sank into the warm, bubbly, heavenly hot tub. When does that EVER happen at a tournament? Can we say pure bliss? After a long day of IE semis and finals, continual adrenaline rushes, the stresses of friends in Octofinals, and three days of tired feet - it was h-e-a-v-e-n-l-y.
And now, life is returning to normal. "Normal" as in the day-to-day life in preparation for yet another tournament...only 6 days to go.
World Music class this morning. Donated blood for the first time. Decided giving blood is a really neat experience. Apologetics class this afternoon. Speech practice. Late night debate research.
Life is great