Lightning skips across the sky
stumbles behind a wall of clouds
makes a fool of itself
yet the reminder
it'll be that quick...
fall leaves in morning
the breeze stirs in dawn's cold light
dew on fading grass--
to appreciate new birth
so a part of life is death.
storm of sickness now.
comes, goes, and we pray for it
to pass and bring peace.
kumiko prays long,
coughs and prays and waits for peace.
ichiro prays too.
morning:
north end's breakfast blend
brainlaunch
(courtesy of two mad hatters)
evening:
new optical mouse
outstanding authoring tool
friends' voices
4AM and bang
again the siren dreaming
blankets to the throne
read, write and cry
dry eyes if you must drive by
french roast since you must survive
another ball fumbled
out into traffic
water held in cupped hands
pours through fleshy holes
There's no penitence
in breaking your own knees
abrasive moments
chaffing a soul to redness:
scratchy woolen day.
snagged thread-loops of life
finding their proper order:
friend's cashmere embrace.
dirt in layers now
till until the grass begins
until the fruit breaks.
life. it's holidays
dull and lose to gravity
fall, crash and trip us
life. a motor starts
a Hand turns the key
not? it's magic would not be.
you know, God?
the One that's in between thoughts?
don't tell me you don't know Him?
fresh air stiffens a spine
cleans the head, clears the mind
His fingers guide wide.
Words are stroked on pages
thin. black on white
but cut like knives. great divide.
Other pages, same in feel
thin. transparent
Brigham tome has no knives.
Welcome JBO to the den
Faceless sprites we're not
Kammer greets in hokey verse
Hey, it's all I've got!
inspiration knocks;
fear of self-discovery
keeps the door bolted.
thanks, jbo, for starting the intros.
i'm stephanie geter (kumiko),
ben young's fiance,
joy mccarnan's dear friend,
ben kammer's friend,
and recent on-line acquaintance of one called "jbo."
i'm from colorado.
definitely a mountain girl.
i learned to write
from the wind swirling in my hair,
from the mountain's shadow
falling on the field.
i fear to write
for when i do
those awful parts of me
must be rooted out,
painfully dug up,
fleshed out,
cut up,
ripped out.
sanctification must come.
i welcome it.
and fear the pain.
let us write
some more.
introduction is
a key to understanding,
please read to meet me...
Hi, I'm James (or Micah or jbo),
I was thinking how nice it would be to meet you all...even if it is only over the internet.
I am from Virginia, and that is where I am now. I am 22 years old. I enjoy writing both words and music. I was saved at a young age and have enjoyed many years in a godly church and have a good Christian home. Praise the Lord. I am friends with Benjamin, that's how I got involved with simplicity.
I hope that you enjoy my poetry. And please feel free to comment or give me hints about this art form. I tried to read up about it before giving it a go. I am just going with it, but I feel like I still am walking in the dark. So if you have any hints. Please share!
God bless you and keep you,
I hope that you will share a little bit about yourselves too!
If you prefer to e-mail me directly, instead of putting it up on the web, e-mail jbo.
thanks,
jbo
don't see eye to eye,
do we? but both have been poked
through countless needles.
crammed by grace and time
and sovereign bloody fingers --
twin threads rejoicing
Lost! my voice is lost!
And the wind whispers louder
When the heavens speak.
The ocean's crashing,
like my fevered heart's beating.
Where's peace like a river?
Give me grace to shout
through the wind and sail the sea.
Your Word is Power.
forgotten furies,
words reinvented, reused--
nightly argument.
each fight overheard
in a lodging-place too shared;
no roof-top corner exists.