Friday, April 29, 2011


This blog is being discontinued. I've not really been able to keep going with it, huh...

but all of my artwork/drabbles/poetryfails will be directed to THE ALEPH. Hope to see you there!!!

Monday, February 28, 2011

A Land of Eyes - I


. . . .The same day that she realized that she was losing her sight, Aida stormed into the river in a fit of mindless rage.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

mi piel // my skin

a veces me cansa este cuerpo
de estos ojos y estas manos
de esta jaula de carne y pensamientos

si pudiera hacerlo
pelaría todo
tal vez, podría llevarme otro

para un día solitario
caminaría tus pasos
sentiría tus creencias
tocaría tus latidos

cuando me cansa este cuerpo
no me mientas
me permite ver
como se siente
al ser otra persona


sometimes I grow tired of this body
of these eyes and these hands
of this cage of flesh and thoughts

if I could do it
I would peel everything off
perhaps, I could put on another

for one solitary day
I would walk your steps
I would feel your beliefs
I would touch your heartbeat

when I grow tired of this body
don't lie to me
let me see
what it feels like
to be another person

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

I Remember

[Found in my old journal... dated Thursday, June 4th, 2009. I'm not this emo anymore, guys.]

. . . .Oh, poor heart! Why must you pain me so? Why must you write again that same story when there is one that is being written by more shapely a Heart?
. . . .Oh sad lady! Can you not understand? You poor old woman. The things you have forgotten. Where has the light in your eyes gone? I can no longer see the beauty of the trees. Where is the beauty in the Song?
. . . .I want to lay in Your lap and hear you tell me that I belong here. I want to hear You tell me the Story of the beauty of the trees and listen to the Your Song once again. I want to weep under the shelter of Your hands over my head and remember the times You wept for me first.
. . . .And I want to be ashamed there, at all of the shattered wood and blood I held in my hand. I want to hear You say that's enough.
. . . .and You say it again and again.
. . . .it's enough.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The Christ

He laughs.
it is so human
and so much like God
to laugh
it is a lonely thing
to be merely human.

He loves the starlight
and the cool
of the pines
and the love
of a child
and He feels the mortality
of such things

I think Him sad
He who feels the trembling
of hearts
I see Him lonely
and young, against the starlight

He, incarnate
young and ancient
like the night air
like a word
hands like a stream
of petals and thorns
of wine and water
like the branches of some great Tree
in the Garden's heart
that had not been seen
since the day
of Man's exhile

Monday, January 24, 2011

twelve gates

No longer will there be any curse.

The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city,
and his servants will serve him.
They will see his face,
and his name will be on their foreheads.

revelations xxii:iii-iv

Saturday, January 22, 2011

the field worker

Tell me of Your Kingdom
that i may dare to dream
oh, of the stories you tell
of the gleaming wall
the brilliance
the light

tell me of the City
that has no need of the sun
tell me of a people dressed like ivory
and of the throne in a sea

As i sleep, stay near
and tell me of these pretty things
that i may dream

Oh, that i would swallow these words
that i would become them
that i would hear Your voice
and like a trance let them move me
destroy and
remake me.
For they are such beautiful
and terrible words
for one such as i

And yet

and yet

and yet…

You sing them to me again
Like rain that streams down my insides
and the names that echo in my head
sound like Your voice

as i lay down to die again
I am resigned to die here
when i wake up between Your hands
i will cease to be
the same