The Constants

I watched her through the window as she moved around the house, cleaning as she went.  The soft flickering candlelight made shadows dance across her skin and I could hear the faint sound of music through the glass.  In this moment all the troubles of my world disappeared and I became lost in her stunning beauty.  As I stood there frozen at the door; studying every movement and every little feature, I saw a slight smile.  It was the kind of smile you have when you are alone and have no reason to smile, the kind that says you are perfectly content with your life in that moment.  I was smiling too, but mine was the kind of smile you have when you are so completely immersed in love that it causes a euphoric high felt throughout your entire being.  It was the kind of smile that you get when you are watching the only woman you will be with for the rest of your life and the concept is not scary, it is comforting.  Comforting to know that each time I open that door she will be there to wrap her arms around me and kiss me; to tell me that she loves me and that she has missed me. 

Our lives are a system of winding roads with countless forks, splits, and dead ends.  The series of events that make up every individual's story are unpredictable; the slightest movement can alter an entire story, an entire life, even an entire civilization.  The decisions we make based on today's events can dramatically change the events of tomorrow and we will never know the life that might have been.  The ever changing events however are not the biggest part of our story; it is the constants that truly define us.  The people, the beliefs, and the ideals that stuck with us through this capricious thing called life.  Through every change, every mistake, every achievement, your constants are there.  Even if they can't be with you physically they will always be in your heart, therefore they remain a part of your story until the very end.

The woman on the other side of the window is one of my constants.  I opened the door and pulled her in close, I told her that I loved her and that I always will.  Because not a day goes by that I don't love her more.  Our constants remind us the importance of love, they fill us with happiness and in doing so they refresh us so that we are better fit to share that love and happiness.  Standing up in this world of evil with a renewed mind, walking in love.  That my friends, is the beauty of life, the greatness of God's design.

What's Your Story?

I'm often caught staring at strangers, studying them, wondering who they really are.  It's not creepy or rude, my intent is not to make people uncomfortable.  I just have a strange habit of trying to figure people out, I want to know their story.  I find myself wondering where they grew up, where they work, what their home life is like, how they handle things when life becomes arduous.  The questions go on and on because I am truly interested; our individualism amazes me, for everyone has a story and no two are the same.  This is the way I have always been, because I believe that you can't judge a book by it's cover.  Just to think of all the tremendous books I would have missed out on had I done that makes me truly appreciate the cliche, and to think of all the people that would have never impacted my life does the same. 
Our society loves to separate us into our own little cages where we can be comfortable with "our own kind".  We are conditioned both blatantly and subliminally to segregate ourselves; to judge or even hate other people at a distance and to keep interaction at a minimum.  "The bum on the corner, the black guy behind the gas station register, the pizza guy, the white girl in all black"; descriptive words are used to trigger recognition by stating basic attributes: but those descriptions become entire identities in most people's minds. There lies the problem, for a person cannot be described in a handful of shallow words.  The color of someones skin or the price of their home will never tell you what's in their heart, it will never tell you what goes on in their mind or what tribulations and accomplishments they have seen.
 I wonder if we will ever breach the walls of the status quo and fight to rebuild our broken society on the principles of love and peace.  I know the world will never be that way, but if enough of us wanted it to we could make a great impact on humankind.  Thanks for reading, may God bless your life and fill your heart with peace and love.

It has been nearly seven months since I have written anything on this blog and it seems my words are coated in a thick layer of rust and writters block because of it.  About the time of my last post I decided that due to a lack of time I would have to prioritize all of the things I did in my free time and make some cuts.  The idea was that I would only focus on self improvement and family in my time off of work.  Self improvement meant that I would keep reading the bible, going to the gym, and reading other non-fiction books daily.  I cut out things like television almost completley with the exception of a movie during family time and programs that I could learn from.  For the past few months I have barely written and I haven't read any fiction literature, as I write this I realize the toll it has taken on my creative mind. 
The other day, after reading the blogs of two women who always inspire me to write I decided that it was time for me to pick it back up again.  After staring at a blank screen for about fifteen minutes I got frustrated and went back to watching political debates.  My words don't flow like they should, there is no beauty or imagination in what I'm doing now.  This is only an attempt to stimulate my thoughts and remind my brain what creative writing is.

Creative writing is what I set aside because it wasn't important enough. 

I took her for granted....

Creative writing is important. 
Writing it is important. 
Reading it is important. 
Steinbeck is important. 
Byron is important. 
Dumas is important.
Hughes is important.

I set all of these aside because I thought I wasn't learning enough from them, I decided that history, science, how to, and political books were more essential in better developing my brain.  What I took for granted was the fact that they don't evoke emotion or allow thoughts to be shared in the same way.  Every type of literature has it's own purpose, every writer has theis own message.  Each is important (mostly anyway) in stimulating the mind, increasing intelligence, and bringing awareness to the reader however creative writing is the only type of literature that gives both the writer and the reader insight into themselves and others.

So this is my attempt to brush the dust off the pages and rejuvenate my passion for the pen once again.  Hopefully my next post will be on here soon and my words will be restored to their full vigor.  Until then goodbye and God bless.

Earth Day

Oh Beautiful for smoggy skies, insecticided grain, 

For strip-mined mountain’s majesty above the asphalt plain.

America, America, man sheds his waste on thee,

And hides the pines with billboard signs, from sea to oily sea

-George Carlin

We are all guilty of it in some way or another, it is our way of life and there is no turning back.  We do what we have to do to live as active members of society.   Airplanes and automobiles have become a necessity making highways and oil necessities as well.  An increase of the population leads to an increased need for housing developments, bring on the bulldozers.   Thousands upon thousands of gallons of oil are leaked, devastating the environment.  I watch the news in sadness, but I make my daily trip to the gas pump just the same. 

 I often dream of leaving society to go live in the wilderness as far off the grid as I could possibly get.   I would hunt, fish, and farm for my sustenance.   I would wear clothes made by my own hands out of the hemp that I grow and the game I kill.   My horse and my feet would be my only mode of transportation.  I would spend my days soaking up the peace and beauty of God’s creation, living in harmony with nature.   I dream, yet I stay.  I stay to make the money that I hate by building the housing developments and pouring the concrete that destroys the nature that I love.  I stay to fight the wars that determine rights to the natural resources that we abuse.  I stay to pay the taxes that make the highways and the dams possible.  It is our way of life and there is no turning back.

We are destroying the earth, it is inevitable.  It’s a good thing this is only a temporary home.  While the destruction may be unavoidable, it can be slowed.  My carpet will eventually be ruined but I will continue to vacuum it until it is.  This earth is our home and it is our responsibility to keep it clean.  We can’t change the way we live completely to protect the environment, but we don’t have to be disgusting either.  We can still hold oil companies and the like accountable for their mishaps, just as we can hold ourselves accountable for ours.  We can still strive to improve on the way we do everyday things, and we can protect the nature that we have left.   Recycling, reducing waste, and never littering are all small ways to positively affect the environment in a huge way.   We can keep it in our minds every day and remind ourselves and each other not to be disgusting.

The Mind

My mind drifts; it floats, it wanders

It soars, it questions, and it ponders

I travel all space and time

In the labyrinths of my mind

It sees the beauty of the plains and trees

Of happiness, of truth, of love

It rejoices in all the victories

That I have in my God above

It’s peaceful when it’s been renewed

It is violent when it’s not

It is eager to learn all things new

And all that it’s forgot…

Brutal battles break each day

Personalities fighting for control

Casualties in the carnage lay

In the murky darkness of my soul

In combative contrast they collide

The darkness and the bright

Will the iniquities be justified?

Will the valiant win this fight?

Once again the intrepid win

But the struggle is not finished

Malice and sin will return again

When their armies have been replenished

In its countless caves and catacombs

My mind buries secrets deep

Never will they leave their tombs

Forever they will sleep

It may be burdened but it is free

It seeks beauty, wisdom, knowledge

It learns from everything I see

The universe is my college

My mind drifts; it floats, it wanders

It soars, it questions, and it ponders

I travel all space and time

In the labyrinths of my mind

National Poetry Month

I have been meaning to get back to writing on the ol' blog for some time now, but due to recent events my life has been somewhat hectic.  To tell the truth it actually calmed down about a month ago but thats when I encountered another problem.  After so long without posting I just didn't know where the hell to start.  Thank you National Poetry Month. 

People are generally pretty suprised when they find out that I love poetry.  Now that I think about it people are usually suprised when they find out that I write...or that I know how to read.  I guess I just don't strike most people as that "type".  Thats just me I guess, I don't fit into a "type". 

I do enjoy poetry.  It's all the beauty and pain of life wrapped up into eloquence and rythm.  Good poetry defines the human mind and explores the human soul.  It allows us to express ourselves as individuals and gives us insight into the hearts of others.

I have always had a passion for words.  By themselves they don't look like much, but put those words together right and they will flow beautifully off the page, seeping into the readers heart and mind to never be forgotten.  They can convey our deepest emotions and desires.   They can persuade and convince.   They can inspire change, they can start revolutions.  Most people don't realize the power that words hold.

I love the way words can be pieced together to make somethething beautiful, especially in poetry.  Poetry has that lyrical swagger that no other form of writing can compare to.  It moves rythmatically across the page, dancing its way into our minds.  It evokes a sense of freedom and sincerity in us.  Poetry is the language of our heart. 

Baby Girl

I can remember the day you were born.  I was only six and the memory is hazy to me, but I was excited, I know that much.  The memory warms my heart just like those big brown eyes of yours always do.  The feeling of wonder and happiness all mixed up comes back to me as I think of the first time I saw you.   You were so tiny and funny looking, kind of alien like, yet beautiful.  It was fourteen years ago today, the day I met my baby sister.  That was just the beginning, not even the good part.  I loved you from the first moment I saw you, but it was a love that could only keep growing.

My night has been spent in a photo album, like many other nights before it.  I miss you every day.  I especially miss you on this one.   You smile up at me from my computer screen and everything else disappears.  Picture after picture I watch you grow up all over again.  I watch the beautiful baby transform into the beautiful young woman and I am proud.  I can’t even describe how proud you make me.  You are as sweet and loving as you are strong and bold.  Your big heart brings happiness to everyone around you.  I am very blessed to have you in my life. 

 I wonder what kind of loony antics I missed out on today and I laugh.  You can always make me laugh.  That is something that hasn’t changed.  Don’t ever let yourself grow out of your sense of humor.  I look through fourteen years of goofy pictures and see the same crazy girl in all of them.  Thoughts of random dance parties and mustaches run through my head.  To be honest you’re kind of weird, but I love it, and I guess that means you fit in with the rest of us.     

Always remember that even when I’m gone I never stop thinking about you.  I love you with my whole heart and I pray for you daily.  Keep a smile on your face and know that you can do anything you set your mind to do.  Remember that no matter what I will always be there for you.   And know that no matter how many birthdays you have you will always be my baby girl.