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WoundsThe time when verses flow most freely from my mind
Is not when life has altogether been too kind:
The echoed strains of joy, what words could catch and capture
The speechlessness of laughter, hearts abrim with rapture?
It's hopelessness and sorrow baring wounds through words,
A crust of scabbed emotions daring to be heard;
It itches mightily, and though you want to rip
Apart the hurt and all reminders in one strip,
It stings to know there is no bottom but an ooze,
This awful spring of inspiration, pain-infused.
But give it time to heal, protect it from all harm,
And off it comes. The skin beneath is new and warm
And paler than before, but solid in its form.
Memory #4: The CostIn my sophomore year, we would have prayer meetings every Wednesday afternoon. I would say that weekly meetups and prayer meetings were the times I learned the most that year. On one level, I learned about prayer itself, and how many different ways you could pray. You could pray through the Word (praying through a psalm was a particular favorite of mine), you could pray in one voice with each other, you could simply praise and adore God, or thank him. Along with my meetups I learned more about confessing in prayer as well. On another level, I learned a lot about the many different things we could intercede for. We would pray for our campus, our ministry, our missionaries, and most importantly, our people and the various facets of their lives. It felt that every prayer meeting was learning a new thing about prayer.
But even more than these substantial lessons, I learned a lot from the older people who led the prayers. Seeing their example as prayerful men and women left a deep impressio
UnspokenUntil the day appointed when I stand
And tell you all the hope you fill in me,
I'll tell you naught of what I understand
Within my heart, unseized by urgency.
For in the promise now I see no need
To haste the swelling feeling deep inside
Nor give up hope: to pray and not to plead,
To slowly bridge this shortening divide.
But we are closer than I could have thought,
And in the light of such proximity
The sentiment our interactions wrought
Are all too easy for your eyes to see.
For now, let this reward you for your wait:
The tenderness my actions indicate.
LifthrasirWhose princely air proudly
Passed the sea in freefalls,
Who sought peace, sword flaming,
Striking words like forgefalls,
Pride of Berk, battleworn,
Breathing life where strife falls,
Prized by Líf in prayer:
Their pressed lips, blessed footfalls.
Away at HomeLord, be my home and all my stay
When even home feels far away:
Let my own kin say what they may,
Lord, be my home and all my stay.
For heaven holds me in its sway,
My single passion day to day.
Lord, be my home and all my stay
When even home feels far away.
Sandwich IslandPotato salad and a turkey bacon:
All it took to show me how the days
Have heaped on like a sandwich in the making.
Twenty years now stacked on bright red trays
With food and paper plates and Styrofoam,
Symbols of good taste and friendly ways.
I wonder what had roused her then to roam
And settle in this aging college town.
She heard me speak the language of her home
And something must have moved her heart deep down
To save my weekly order in her mind.
Some turn to comfort food upon a frown,
And yet more consolation there I find
A fullness of a heartfelt， hometown kind.
Memory #2: NinjaIn the final days of APUSH my junior year, our teacher had us write letters to ourselves five years from now. Last week it came into the mail, and understandably, I was curious to see what my 16 year old self wanted to tell my 21 year old self. As it turns out, he didn’t really have much to say (so my memory of not knowing what to write was confirmed), only to talk to a bunch of my friends and to refer to a game we used to play: Ninja.
I don’t remember who brought Ninja into West Ranch High School, but I remember that when it did hit it was the bomb. The basic premise of the game was that everyone would stand in a circle, and you would count to three. On three, everyone would strike a pose, and taking turns, you would try to hit other people’s hands to get them out. The goal was to be the last person standing.
I’ve played it a couple times in college, and hearing of other people’s different versions, I can safely conclude that we took Ninja way too serious
Memory #1: The Perfect BiteI don't remember what age I was exactly when I had In-N-Out for the first time. It was when I was five or six, around preschool or kindergarten. But I can vividly remember what it tasted like, where we were, and how I earned it.
At the time, I had two major haunts: the Duarte public library and the LA Zoo. Now in those days, the public libraries had a deal of some sort where if you read five books, you could get a certificate for a free hamburger. Being the kind of kid who would check out and read 20 or so books a week, I made short work of it. I remember my mom taking me and my little sister to the In-N-Out in Arcadia, the one that has no indoor seating, and I remember she took us to a park. It was quite a nice summer day, and we sat on a picnic bench in the shade. My mom let me carry the bag, and I remember that I was ravenous by the time we got there. It smelt so good, and when I bit into it, I don't think I have ever had a better bite of a burger than that first bite. Soft bun, sau
A Frozen Ballad, Part VThe First Time in Forever
Three years had passed, and all the world
Was sailing on its way
To Arendelle, for Elsa was
To bear the crown that day.
How towering the stately masts
And billowing the sails!
How joyful were the people's songs
Sung over hills and dales!
The castle gates, which once were closed
For thirteen weary years,
Now opened, and the eager throng
Streamed in with loudest cheers.
And yet, against the tide, a maiden
Hastened out the door,
The first time in forever she
Could go out and explore.
Sweet Anna, with her rosy cheeks
And eyes aglow with glee,
Was singing, dancing in the town,
For she had been set free.
Now as she sauntered up and down
The dockyards and the streets,
She crashed into a foreign horse,
And swept right off her feet.
The rider was Prince Hans, who hailed
From Southern Isles' shores,
A handsome face that hid a heart
With malice in its core.
But Anna, captivated by
His warmth and princely charm,
Returned to Elsa with no clue
Of near-impending harm.
J'ecoute vibrer cet invisible.J’écoute vibrer cet invisible.
Invisible et secret, cette voie vers le cœur.
J’entends vos ailes en frémissement d’un ange.
C’était l’hier où vous étiez encore aux langes,…
Et puis, les mains au ciel, vous guettiez le bonheur.
Les cordes tressent le destin en transparence
Où Dieu n’est que ce salaud qui n’est jamais là
Quand l’enfant souffre en son être, et bien au-delà;
Dieu n’intervient pas, même pour les apparences.
Dieu ne fut jamais que rumeur venue de loin
Qui pourrissait le beau, l’amour et le sublime.
Un Dieu crucifié n’est jamais qu’une victime
De celui qui l’abandonne en père et moins.
Demain je me marie,… mon frère s’est noyé,
C’était le mois d’avant qui gonflait la rivière.
Tu es belle mon cœur et tu es ma prière.
Peut-être le destin s’était-il fourvoy
Nothing LeftMy chest is burning, burning, burning.
My lungs are turning blue.
My vision's blurred, all color gone,
But still I swim for you.
You're worse off. You need my help.
But still you swim away.
And so I swim into the Night,
Abandoning the Day.
I'm getting slower. Slower.. Slower...
You seem to increase speed.
And so I fight to follow you,
And give the help you need.
You don't look back, despite my call.
You can't hear my silent scream.
I feel my body start to fail,
And watch you swim upstream.
My lungs are dying, dying, dying.
I desperately need air.
Although I know it's killing me,
I cannot help but care.
I keep fighting, but you won't stop,
You seem to like the pain.
And here I die, and start to fly,
Before I could explain.
I'm slowly flying, flying, flying,
Up toward the light of Day.
The water's gone, the air is sweet,
But I wanted to stay.
I tried with all I could to help,
Compassion's my Achilles heel.
I lost myself trying to rescue you,
And prove the danger's real.
My heart is singi
The FairyShe stands beneath the willow tree
With wings of darkest forest green
A fairy new having just born
For she has died the day before
The wind blows gently at her feet
The crescent moon lights up the street
Hovering gently by the wall
She is invisible to all
A Thank You to the Past GenerationsThough limbs go frail and senses start to fade,
As time keeps marching on relentlessly;
Despite the fact that memories are frayed,
There’s sometimes still a well of history;
Not quite as sharp or strong as in their youth,
But disregarded not should be their speech;
With values of respect, hard work and truth,
Pay attention – they may have more to teach;
The world we live in moves at such a pace,
That sometimes it is nice to slow back down;
Though to the future we will always face,
It never hurt to stop and look around:
To those who came before let’s give a cheer,
If not for them we’d not even be here
In The CaveIn the great cave of color
Hidden out by the sea
You'll find not another
In this ocean of green
2 flowers grow
And a blue skull grins
They live there alone
The rocks have them pinned
And the cave walls glow dim
Like a rainbow near out
But in this cave so dim
It will never die down
Star ShineWalking on a beach, you can feel like
A single grain of sand or a fish
In a shoal in the vast blue ocean
And you might walk until the sun dips
Toward the horizon and wonder
What is even the point of it all?
‘There are over seven billion
People and most will be forgotten
Myself included’ you might well think
But before you turn back to go home
For a moment look up at the sky.
There are billions of stars up there
They light up a little patch of space
And although all of them look the same
They’re still wished on like they are special
Whenever you feel like you’re nothing
Important, look up at the night sky
And try to make your bit of space shine
Grab the FutureGo and grab the future, for it belongs to you
Only you can make it, do what you want to do
Tomorrow is a blank slate, try to wipe it clean
It’s time to show the next act, time to set the scene
Perhaps you can be better, than what came before
Start making an improvement, achieve so much more
The past will surely crumble, dust turning to dust
Turn towards a brighter future, now we all must
Life is a mountain where you only reach the top
When you feel like it’s enough, and decide to stop
Who knows what’s at the summit, if you go that far
Perhaps it is a place where you can touch the stars
Eternity BeginsAs you flip through the book of my life you will see,
That not every part is sparkling clean,
Though I look like a good girl,
I'm corrupted within,
Because even the good ones are chock full of sin.
From the moment I came onto Earth it was destiny,
All of my wrong doings lay out in front of me.
In a catalog,
Were the sins I wanted to be,
Rating from "This one feels good!" to "That's best for me!"
I ran on pure happiness mixed with adrenaline,
Living without my sin stunk in comparison!
But as the days wore on I felt a slight change,
All of my emotions were then rearranged.
I suddenly realized it felt worse to wallow,
Wherever I went my sin surely followed.
I lived in the darkness and stumbled around,
I had no hope that I'd ever,
I tried to keep going but eventually stopped,
I sat on the ground and let the sin drop,
On my head so it soaked me in eternal rain,
Nobody was coming to get me again.
I had not a soft or bright comfort to turn to,
I had no hope I'd get out
I have sinned against thee, oh LordI have sinned against thee, oh Lord
Kim J Schirmer Oct 4, 2013
I have lived a life full of joy and sorrow
I have looked behind me and wished for tomorrow
Many things i have done and many things i should have done
Prizes have slipped through my fingers, but few trophies I have won
I come naked into the world and I stand now before you, oh Lord naked still
My arrogance is gone, my hypocrisy exposed, my stiffed neck has been stripped of its will
What I want is naught because thy will be done as on earth as is in heaven
my bread is without salt and without leaven
I see past the hallowed memories of youth and with age do I feel the full weight of regret
My dreams are frightful, my Heavenly Father, of strange warnings I worry and fret
I cannot see past my nose, I cannot see through the fog, I cannot see, I cannot hear
Gather me once again, into thine arms, whisper comfort to ward the fears and tear
I strayed off the path, running after butterflies and flowers that were short lived and
The king said to Daniel, “Surely your God is the God of gods [Elah Elahin] and the Lord of kings and a revealer of mysteries, for you were able to reveal this mystery.”
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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