want to know the songwriter
i think we'd be friends
an unknown texter
thought it was someone i knew
truth revealed, creepy
Thursday, March 21, 2013
more car tunes
some songs hit home hard
i would rather hurt
bring thoughts didn't know i had
like after i'm gone
than not feel at all(their words)
yet I sing along
mindless dance beats thump
techno, sweat, move it faster
it's all physical
driver's seat haikus
music touches me
in a place far, far away
where there are no words
no one can find me
when i find my secret place
beats, spirit collide
poet, driver's seat
music, thoughts, tears, parking lot
shopping list undone
Monday, March 18, 2013
after the storm
Vulnerability Hangover.
Wow.
I cannot talk about the context in which I heard that term
tonight
but it just won't leave my head,
is searing itself across my brain like a
tattoo.
Definition: (vulnerability hangover)
the sense of fear that we've exposed too much,
perhaps to a person we cannot really trust.
a universal experience.
really??? you mean it's not just me???
Description: We feel the urge to connect with someone so we share something deeply meaningful. Minutes, hours or days later, we begin to feel regret sweep over us like a warm wave of nausea.
Wow.
Perfect description of
my worst nightmare
the thing I strive to avoid most
that feeling of being stripped
of all my defenses
laid bare for all to see my imperfections.
This opens up a myriad of exploding thoughts,
too much to put into words,
in fact, this would be a good jumping off point
for some work of art...
a better way to express how this feels...
to draw a picture,
wildly splash paint across a wall or canvas
in bright reds, purples,
calm blues or even black.
to bang out some chords,
add some wailing,
choreograph a dance,
spastic at times,
then flowing, methodical,
as God calms the storm
and puts the broken pieces back together
into a new tapestry, a new vessel, a new song.
Words can be so unnecessary.
If only words can be used to connect people,
then what's the point?
Even the thunder and lightning understand.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Eph. 4:15
brutally honest
speak the truth in love again
i hate doing this
Monday, March 11, 2013
cheetah or sloth
http://www.wylio.com/credits/Flickr/3201201849
Some days I am like a cheetah, other days like a sloth.
Some days I fly out of the den at breakneck speed, knocking down anything and anyone in the way of my chosen destinations: namely, my errands, the gym, my to-do list, volunteer appointments, school meetings, etc. (don't worry, I don't knock over my kids or smash into other cars in the carpool line, yet!)
I barely stop to breathe or re-fuel, but continue my focused attack on all that needs to be done.
And then there are the sloth days. like today. Interesting facts about sloths, they move soooo slooowwwlyy, they even grow green fungi on their fur from sitting in one place for so long. hmm, I'd better watch for that on my self... And a sloth will hang out in the trees, constantly nibbling leaves, and only come down to use the bathroom, and that's only once a week! (ok, well, I couldn't quite wait THAAAT long!!, LOL!!) Anyway so today was one of those days when I could barely drag myself to walk a whole ten steps in succession, to get to the fridge, and even lifting the coffee mug to my lips seemed a major effort. I lay around, performing mundane tasks at the lowest RPM possible, like the "33" speed on an old vinyl record player. (remember those things? not, oops, i'm old...) Gym workout? nah, my body is still recovering from the last time, gotta be nice to myself today. My to-do list? yawn, roll over and take another nap. Live in jammies or sweats till 2 pm. Any required trip outside the house seems like an appalling demand on my precious time. Even a jaunt to the grocery store is a joke. I waddle along behind the cart, taking in all the sights and sounds like a hippie on LSD, overwhelmed by the visual stimuli. oh wow, man, look at the pretty hue of those mangoes... And then I start wondering about all the strange people around me and begin hypothesizing about their lifestyles. hmmm, this lady is obviously very OCD, look at the way she lines up her cans of tomato sauce in her cart, all labels facing the same way. And look at that guy, is he really going to eat all that garbage? I'll give him a life expectancy of about 53, he'll die of cardiac arrest while choking on a donut wrapped in bacon and slathered with chocolate frosting. ew.
ok, that was exhausting. my fingers are conspiring to kill me once i'm asleep. which will be any minute-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Friday, March 8, 2013
undercover agent
12:31 pm on a Friday.
Neighborhood Starbucks.
Tall dark and a blueberry scone.
Keeping a low profile.
Set up by the window.
Car with New Mexico plates pulls up.
Unsuspecting employees and clientele carry on their business.
My camera secretly captures the visuals.
My sensors pick up clues on what kind of joint this is.
Do the barristas seem happy? Do they enjoy their job?
I hear employees are given a pound of coffee a week. I could dig that.
What about the vibe, is it cool enough for me?
How difficult can it be to whip up a grande soy no-water vanilla latte?
or something like that.
What about this music. Bluesy jazz. hmm. now U2-ish, better.
Immovable clientele in the corner. Forever plugged into their devices.
Shaky hands clutching lukewarm cups.
Roar of coffee grinder. Cappucino machine.
Employee uniform, black. simple enough.
Distracting shopping center nearby. I'd be tempted to shop every day.
ok, nix this place.
next week's assignment; starbucks closer to home.
still enjoyed the java.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
body combat
Body Combat: the empowering cardio workout where you are totally unleashed. This fiercely energetic program is inspired by martial arts and draws from a wide array of disciplines such as Karate, boxing, Taekwondo, Tai Chi and Muay Thai. During this ultimate warrior workout, you'll strike, punch, kick and kata your way through calories to superior cardio fitness. (Fitness Connection)
***************************************************************************************************************
first class
instructor guy wearing a pirate-like black scarf thingy on his head. cool gloves.
but why the gloves, in case he misses the air? bloody knuckes.
says, "is this anyone's first class?"
i sheepishly raise a solo hand.
he looks at me. i hate being singled out.
"name's Rob. you're gonna hate me tomorrow. i hope you hate me today. that's my goal."
great intro. i like it.
i smile sweetly.
"aw, you don't look like the hating kind".
snicker.
no worries.
seems like he designs window treatments on the side.
or bakes scones.
uppercut, jab, roundhouse kick.
keep the chin down, make it a less appealing target to your opponent.
"imaginary opponent", like that term.
roundhouse kick, fast as a boxer's jab.
i feel like a donkey on crack.
with toothpick arms. gotta work on that.
Pirates of Carribean music.
sword move. draw, circle and stab.
hooooo-ahh!!!! love it.
gaze shifts to mirror.
who is that mad woman?
"imagine your opponent. 6'4", 280 lbs.
parked in your parking space.
'excuse me, sir, i'm late for body combat class
and that is MY parking space!!!' "
ok..or another scenario. :)
Pink song. he's going to her concert this month.
thinks he'll let her have his autograph. ha ha.
"next track, you have 5 opponents."
ooh, i like this
hmmmm, let me think, 1,2,3.... (just kidding)
half-jacks.
"ladies, you can cross your arms over your chest if you want.
you won't change my world none."
i LOL. (told you he was HGTV material)
nobody else laughs. they all heard that one before.
cool-down jog around room.
he high-fives me, the newbie.
i resist the urge to try out my upper cut.
naw, he's safe.
"now get your mats....this is like herding kittens."
push-ups, crunches, i'm already hating him.
"this stretch makes me feel like a matador.
no, take that back, I always feel like a matador,
must be those fabulous capes."
the way he says "FAB-ulous"...
oh yeah, designer's eye...
class ends.
i will definitely be back.
love this love/hate relationship.
hoooo-ahhhhh!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)