One Tear (Audio)

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I have penned no words for you since forever

Out of time though, my heart has done nothing but call your name

Over and over I find myself following paths that lead to you

Or rather they lead to places where I realize your absence

The separateness is startling and unreal

Grief too deep for words or tears, for they only well up in me

Perhaps I can not weep because I can not accept or come to terms with it

Or perhaps I just refuse to

But how can I come to terms with what is impossible

Just one tear would contain the sadness of the whole world

Perhaps that is why they will not flow

It would be too terrible

Forgiveness (Audio)

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My heart, my Soul you long for me.  You miss my presence and the quiet rest it brings.  You miss the joy and gentle laughter.  And the familiar intimate passion whose flames burn with cleansing and refining fire.  You are torn in two, exposed in the shadows and seeking relief, some covering for your nakedness.  No wonder you seek my attention.  No wonder that at times in your wrath I am shamed, belittled, and the object of cruel humor.  I have always known you yet in my folly, my cleverness I sought You in the Other.  I performed for you to win your approval.  I poured myself into the leaky cup of achievement and was spilled out onto the dry earth.

My love I have wanted you from forever.  I now know that we share the same destiny.  To damnation or redemption we both shall go.  I now  know, I now believe where you reside, at least with my intellect (Lord help my unbelief),  Yet I still move between sense and nonsense, faith and doubt.  I strain to make the turn toward you and enter your castle.  Why can I not run a straight path into your arms so that the torture might cease?  Am I even now so twisted that straight is beyond my comprehension and ability?  I begin the journey with “I forgive You”.  You are that which I have made you.  The greater forgiveness is yours to give me.  My fear and stupidity, my double minded laziness left you alone and dying.  Do what you must my Love.  I am coming but I do not know the way back to you.  But I go out nonetheless, not knowing the way.  But I know the destination . . .

Your head on my chest, legs entwined, deep solemn rest.

Stuff – Noun or Verb?

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I have 14 drafts saved on this thing.  They are ideas, the beginning of poems or stories and essays that need attention some day.  I also have pieces of paper filled with words in boxes and journals that had been scattered around in various places.  Much of it has been untouched for years.  Some of it though is now, at least, connected with the posts and drafts here at the Groove.  Over the last month or so I have been gathering up all that stuff.  And have begun to at least  to get it all in the same proximity.  Now, stuff is not a particularly sophisticated word on the surface but it is most descriptive for me in this case.  It seems a good word for this material because that is what it feels like.   Just stuff.

Apparently its origin is late Middle English (1300-50).  It was a verb which denoted the action of equipping or furnishing.  Over the centuries we have continued to use the word as a verb as in “I need to stuff this pillow.”  But we have also expanded its use to include even the (typically undefined) material used in the actual action of “stuffing.”  It has become a noun as in “What is that stuff?”  It can even be used in the same sentence as both noun and verb.  “Pick that stuff up off your floor and just stuff it into your closet until after the party.”  It can be used to describe a state of being.  “Man, I’m stuffed,” might be heard in conversation after a meal.  Or technically you could say “That was good stuff.  I really stuffed my face tonight.   And I am stuffed, about to bust.”  I even recall it used medically.  Instead of a stopped up nose one’s condition can be described as a “stuffed up” or “stuffy” nose.  Quite a handy little word.

So it seems that stuff is at once, both and, and also, nondescript material used in the action of filling space that can lead to discomfort.  So I guess that is why I used it to describe my scribbling to date.  Over the years things would bubble up from my soul which would be jotted down and put somewhere like some toy that came in a Happy Meal.  I did not want to thrown it away necessarily but did not have any use for it.  So it got put in the stuff pile with the other things that had made their way out of deep places in me and on to paper.  The action of writing filled space for me in time when I was uncomfortable or stuffed up somehow.  But those actions were like a burp.  Made a little sound, provided a little relief, but did little good in terms of my overall state of being.  I was stuffed and had been stuffing material that I could not define into my soul.  I was stuffed up and was having trouble breathing in or out, within the stale atmosphere I had created around myself.  There is another use of the word that has a slightly different but similar connotation.  It is used commonly to refer to a psychological act where one “stuffs” emotional material, that is never processed.  That could also metaphorically apply to me.  It’s kinda “Dr. Philish” a bit but it communicates.

What started this little rant was me sitting down to write and feeling tired of the stuff I’ve been doing.  It is emotionally draining and after a while began to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher in my head, wah wah wah wah . . . . .  I tried to work on some of the other but I got bored.  I had a little conversation with my Soul and tried to listen very hard.  What I thought I heard was that I could not move on until I had finished sorting through all that “stuff.”  I can’t get to a new place without finishing up the place that I am now.  If I try that again I reckon I will end up right back here.

Like a messy room that has accumulated years of stuff, it’s just not comfortable.  And after a while is a not a fun place to be at all.  So, I guess my task now is to sit down again and go through the rest of the stuff, keeping some and throwing out what is of no use.  I have already discovered some treasures I had forgotten.  It is no longer undifferentiated stuff anymore.  It now has a purpose and a place.  Some of the other I will hang on to for later, but the best stuff is what I can throw out and make room for the new.

OK, well I gotta go clean my room.  Seems like I’m not going to get to play until I do.  Be Groovy. 🙂