Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Friday, August 21, 2020
Notebook Transcription 2
Been exceptionally stressed lately. Reading through some of these poems, I can't imagine publishing them as they are. I guess I've never left a poem in its first-draft state in the past; I don't know why I should think that the process would be any different with a notebook. Only, a notebook leaves much more evidence of my mistakes. Once I'm finished copying the notebook into blogger, I'm definitely destroying this notebook. I'll maybe get into the details about these stressful times in another blog. For now, here's the second bit of prose from my notebook:
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A meaningless stream of syllables wraps itself around me
In this fog I can see neither myself, nor my self-image.
My heart is divided: divided or not.
I can have what I want if I will put it in its proper place.
But the thing I want doesn't seem to fit there.
When the words stop I am a blade of grass, indistinguishable.
Swaying in quiet wind, I mark my distinctives in the ground around me.
The wind empowers me to express myself.
Every mark is washed away by that same wind.
God gives, and God takes away.
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"Denied?"
Friday, August 14, 2020
I guess I have to title my blogs now
I hate it guys. I don't wanna title my blogs, but I generally find blogs in my dashboard using the first few words, which used to be visible with each listing. Now the listings are mostly white-space (i.e. wasted space).
Today I'm thinking I'm gonna go ahead and post the first poem from my notebook.
To protest.. (you know, like the kind of protest that is ineffective because the means of protest are so small that nobody notices or cares)... I'm not gonna title poems for a while. No names for these. (Some of them had names; I'm removing the names).
Heads up, though... These poems are intensely personal, to the point of being embarrassing and uncomfortable for me. I wrote them without any internal commitment to post them anywhere, and I have been waffling about whether or not I'm just gonna destroy the notebook altogether instead of posting all this. Some of what I've written might get me into a little bit of trouble with the Reformed community if they ever decide to care about me. It's prose, guys. These are metaphors.
Here's the first:
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Perfect Leader and Teacher
You pull me up. You are my strength
Still small voice or trumpet sound
You always speak at the right time.
I long for your wisdom's guidance.
You are giver of every good gift.
I love you my king.
Perfect Helper and Encourager
You cheer me on. You are always my friend.
Gently listening, my heart is safe in your embrace.
You distribute the burden of my secret to many ears
but you have never disclosed my secret.
You are a precious gift from my husband.
I love you dearly.
Wednesday, August 5, 2020
