Tuesday, August 16, 2011

car talk.

Poetry tends to come to me at the most inconvenient of times. Take what you will of this. Tomorrow I probably will find something wrong with it.

And I’m sitting in my car.

Yes, before I know it, I’m sitting here.

In my car.

Engine off.

Door open.
Just enough to blanket the dead silence from within
By allowing a couple of finches to share their comments on the cheek of the moon.
"My, how he’s drawing attention to his figure tonight."

I am alone now.
I am alone now.

And I am sitting in my car.
And I can finally hear it:

The steady sound of my heartbeat in perfect rhythm to the pace of his tread.

And before I know it,

I’m still sitting here.

In my car

Realizing that has to mean something.

Monday, August 1, 2011

he knows what he's doing.

You know,

That 8th grade party you were once dying to go, and mom and dad so humiliatingly said no. I mean, gosh, your reputation was at hand. How dare they.

Later on you found out the importance of you not being there.

You know,

Those desires and places in life you were once dying to go, and God so humiliatingly said no. I mean, gosh, your reputation was at hand. How dare He.

Later on you found out the importance of you not being there.

doing love.

“The truth is, love was never just intended to be, it was intended to do. DC Talk had it right when they wrote the song “Love Is a Verb” (or rather, “luv”). That’s the truth.

Frankly, it’s the hardest verb you will ever do. It’s a verb that requires a selflessness and altruism beyond any other experience on earth. It’s a verb that is not always felt but must always be chosen. It is a commitment to do what is right, even though the one standing before you may be entirely undeserving.”

I won’t lie. I’m a big fan of those initial feelings one feels when they’re first “falling”.
But when those feelings are not at their peak and the person you’re committed to says something with a little less tact than usual,

Love must be done.

I’ve also heard these words from a dad who counseled married couples for years, and from my parents’ example, I’ll never forget to look past the emotions of it all and experience what it means to do love.

Might as well start practicing.

pandas and punctuation.

For all of you that make fun of my constant “grammar-Nazi-like” habits, stop reading now.

The rest of you, get ready for a nerdy English teacher read.

My mom just loaned me a book entitled Eats, Shoots and Leaves: the Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation, and I am in love with the title alone.

I promise I’ll prove my point and be done.

Watch this.

So if a panda bear eats shoots and leaves…

Well sure, the panda has a pretty basic bear-like diet, and I’m a little bored out of my mind.

But, if a panda bear eats, shoots and leaves, well…
Let’s just ask ourselves who the victim of this unusual homicide might be. ☺

Anyhow, maybe Becky Renko will appreciate this.