Saturday, March 17, 2012


Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste to garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver int the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,
and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
"God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy,
directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings it's melody into the night..
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
to be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate on love's ecstasy;
To return home an eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

-Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Thin Wrists


            wrists.      Thick
thought             s.

                 splattered     pigeon shit

streetlight         [        ]

                      (beneath her)
      (open)         Her eyes

                       like      vacant spots

                                       the way
                                       they passed on.

Friday, March 2, 2012

City of Pittsburgh

Despite what usually ends up on this little blog, I'm not actually intending to go very far into publishing or poetics. My aspirations as far as career is concerned always leans in the direction of psychology in the end. I'm down in Pittsburgh right now with the Psychology club (soon to be the newest chapter of PsyBeta) of Monroe Community College  attending the Eastern Psychology Association conference. The seminars, research presentations, workshops, and networking opportunities are endless, and are giving me a clearer picture of where I'll be focusing my education in the near future, since I will transfer to a secondary college in maybe less than a year. Because I live as a minimalist, I've been able to get away with not taking out any loans for the first 2-3 years of my college education, so I'm going to use this transfer as an excuse to get out of Rochester. I've got nothing against this place, and I desperately love its people, but I need to travel in spite of all sense and justified reservation. That's just who I am. This might change when I'm older; also, it might not. I don't know.

I'm immersing myself in this conference and these people and this city. I'm taking pictures of my future on a cameraphone.

As my mind can only take so much stimulation, as these presentations are as never-ending as they are impelling, I felt need to go off to walk the streets of Pittsburgh today. I had no idea it was such a pretty little city. Some of these buildings are so incredibly tall and yet squeezed together next to each other; it gives me the illusion that I'm walking through a film set. Trains and lifts and bridges and bicycles are flying about all over the foreground and horizon. I saw the Warhol museum today, and ate a hoagie fit for a tourist. To think that Warhol himself pissed on this wall...this is his actual stain on the world I was brought into.

Somehow, regardless of physical environment, I've found myself fit for battle in the eyes of my Lord this last week. This is pretty eye-opening in and of itself, but I'm quickly learning how to fight for the souls that have been suddenly placed on the stage of my life. There's two that come to mind right now: One has been leaving messages on my phone that display to me a growing loss of confidence as she understands more about the world that is slowly trying to kill her. I met her in the back of a car, once. Haven't seen her face since, but her voice has been a presence in my life, regardless. I know she's convinced at this point that she's all alone in this. I suppose that makes me the catalyst for the time being. It brings me a lot of peace to comfort where I can, but comfort can only go so far. She needs healing. That's something I can't really bring myself, but I hope I can help bring her to it. She deserves so much more than this.

The other is actually asleep on the bed next to mine in this hotel room. I didn't know his name on Wednesday, but I'm praying for him now. He told me that he's changing his life around, that he's surrendering everything he took pride in and surrounding himself with a cloud of witnesses. His zeal is contagious.