Hope is Without ME.

Sounding The Trumpet

2009-09-15T20:34:00.003-04:00

I am going to build a Shofar. May it be a blessing to shake all from their comforts.

Out Of Solitude

2009-03-09T19:57:00.003-04:00

visceral containment creates the solution of my soul
self-reliance is all that is known
an epoxy of ego and hubris filters and controls
each role of self
each conviction I hold
trust in self but my entire existence is contrived
dust to dust all I hear is the buzz of flies
damnation in my ear
death is so near
where can I turn when the darkness embraces?
nowhere
nothing
I've buried every sign
every trace of truth in the ages
the voice of verity spoke from without
these white-washed walls
must tear them down
isolate truth
isolate self
bare your spirit to the simplicity of nature
out of solitude
can't you see?
have you not discovered?
to isolate blind reliance
eternal freedom is in self-defiance.

A Conversation in the Spirit

2009-01-22T00:53:00.001-05:00

... as I am sort of just drifting by in auto mode, I feel that there is a struggle of spirit that I am enduring right now. And seemingly, through my thoughts, rants, anger, hate, and sorrow I am finding the beginning of a search for resolution and access to truth and purpose in my life.

I'm not entirely sure what the said genesis of it was, but I feel that most of the emotion brought forth was in its due season of harvest. Maybe it is a result of what I have sewn in this past year, I am not sure. However, I truly feel that it is the continuous manifestation of a certain composure, which I have felt inside. Right now most of my thoughts and actions, more so thoughts, are an entailment of these original feelings and disposition that I have been either acting upon or feeling hope for. My deeper uncomfortableness with myself and my actions, seems to be a self-loathe for what I almost feel is a contrived sense of spirit. The continuity of my sorrow, whether it be from lacked action, or from disappointment from my surrounding fellows: I feel is in direct relation to my dependence on the very things that I feel victimized by.

I feel so much, that all that I do is almost out of body. I feel that my entire existence is esoteric and confounded, even from my own self. Resultantly, I feel that the only way that I may officially cure this apathy and this contempt for myself and the people around me is to completely divide myself from everything. Meaning, that as soon as I finish what needs to be finished, I feel that I need to buy the longest lasting Amtrak pass I can get, and travel the undiscovered abyss. Only then, do I feel, that my aloofness will be able to bring me to a complete solitude where I may find the voice of truth existing beyond myself. And in my discovery and growing understanding of my Abba should I be able to unlock the peace and understanding of self I need to be able to function and understand my disposition of where I am and the actions I partake.

I have considered it and all of its possibilities, and I know that I will not be able to understand or be at peace with myself until I do something drastic as such. And this is almost resultant from the exceeding feeling like I don't truly understand the essence and truth of love, how I have assumed I am giving it, how it is being received and truly what its place is...I know that I have no place living and fellowship with all of my said family around me until I can have the wisdom about such. Furthermore, If I do not truly know this love I crave, than I do not truly know the God that I worship...and I am not at peace with that. This feeling is enough to make me walk for eternity until I find the understanding I seek.

...in my past travelling I found myself dreading the hiking that I did in the back country of colorado, simply because outside of the satisfaction received from the end resolution, I was gaining nothing.

How I mean this is that if I feel that If I was walking, only because of my own dissonance, I may never stop: not until I gain the wisdom and resultant peace that I seek...

What is it that we long after?

2009-01-08T15:57:00.000-05:00

A deserted highway, warmed by the embrace of worn rubber, rolling at the hands of a false control. Emboldened and prided at the steady hands of a perceived, steerable fate. Dense fog clouds angered and discouraged perception beyond consideration, as the cool night whips forgiving. Hardened bark of weathered oak trees shading the humble forest from the empty steel bodies that take toll on their statuesque peace. A yen for such peace, a peace as seemingly clandestine as the vacant air. Discordant strains tear relentlessly at my auditory senses. However, the dormant spirit inside recognizes a distinction of confusion. And contention continues to pressure on intrinsically, causing me to revel in the fogged air of the night. Sound is not the sense keyed, it is the lack of soundness of spirit which yearns for brash consideration. The calming solitude of nothing penetrates the old skin, spilling out the old wine. The layered facades of ego and culture begin to wane at the first tier of revelation. Simplicity and the mutual love that we yearn to possess pours over. The same calming love who's potential is seen around, within, and about the very source that we oppress rather than embrace. Escaping from the chaos of cultured hate and pride, but creating one's own chaos within. Searching blindly after peace, love, and the unachievable comfort and understanding which illusions us from the voice of truth which speaks from within and to us.

The chase manifests our own internal chaos which may never be succeeded, yet by the brokenness of the search of the very thing! Yet we maintain an unease of our own minds, as we continue the chase after the extrinsic desire that we crave, a craving that provides our only incentive for life. It is blatantly apparent that the fog of self-indulged ego keeps us from the pangs of the craving which we chase to suppress through alternate solution. Should not the chase be to search within our rooted creation, rather than temporal fixation? A search within, a search for the spirit that we keep dormant, and that same spirit which calls our name on the highway whom only knows complacency. The highway encompassed by our comfortable barrier, keeping us aloof from the very One we search for; a shadow from the truth.

How long must we travel?
How long must we search?
How can we persevere in this world, without ever simplifying our lives, humbling our spirits, and becoming transparently vulnerable to the love that we crave?
When will we understand that it is the very roads on which we travel which keeps us from our destination?

We must be enlightened, we must...we must, discover that our agony will reveal our one true self. It is the barrier of comfort which keeps us from our home. Stepping down from our egotistic complexity will bring us to clarity. We must peel away the bark which has hardened our hearts...the wall keeping us from the lion caged inside. In stepping into the the un-spotted habitat, a peace overcomes. A washing of water and fire will cleanse our entire selves until we are free from the darkness which keeps us bound. For what we truly are searching for is insurmountable love. The persevering love a woman's touch. Her warm and tender figure caressing our uneasiness until our focus is singled on the connection, love, and sacrificial embrace. It is this very thing which we cannot receive or give until we break down from our infatuation. An infatuation with self and with the world that blinds from the true love that we have yet to understand: Love that only exists within the Father who tends to the dormant spirit.

Until we allow the Father to receive us into his embrace entirely, the true spirit of grace, love, and compassion can never achieve released potential. By dwelling beyond our pennant adherence to our own external boundaries, we will unlock the key to the lion's spirit waiting to be received into our ragamuffin selves; opening up the door to the 'peace that surpasses all understanding'. So, beloved, we must not abide on our knees. For what do we gain other than false securities and contrived strength that exists in pride. The man who kneels down in worship and brokenness, that he may gain strength in wisdom, is not shamed. Is the shame not to be accredited to the man who lives on his knees, bowing down to the world and to selfishness, but confident of his own uplifting capacity and soldiering? For it is not confidence and pride which this man exudes, it is confidence and pride in which he bows down to worship! Rather we should stand up! by kneeling down! to gain wisdom and understanding of the spirit and the true Father of righteousness and love. Through his overcoming of self, we shall discover the truth of our own potential and our brothers and sisters that surround us. In unlocking the truth, we will find we can unlock the beauty of the one true self and the potential in the people we come into communion with. Coming to this wisdom and living by the truth, will allow us to pay reverent homage to and worship the Father of love who has set a once dormant spirit afire. By kneeling, we will stand up against hate, conformity, and our own self-manifested and self-serving egotistic oppression and false comfort that we cling to. For in this unlocking of humility, we shall reveal true strength, peace, and the love that we have been chasing after...

Lies of Vanity

2008-07-28T00:24:00.000-04:00

Our spiritual sanctified truth has been perverted
piety drives the misinformed to death,
"the path of faith simply doesn't comply with religious convention."

The traditions of the fathers bring a persecution of truth,
love and grace, the first to be thrown into the fire.
The sun sets upon your wrath, kindling contempt, to create a synthetic freedom.

No ambitions will be fulfilled...no purpose can intervene where judgment takes its toll.
Your suppressed to a burdened complacency, devoid of spirit,
your potential will never be seen...adding vitality to the powers that be.
Discouraged unemployment of self,
from religious corruption and pride...brainwashing you to nothing.
The penance is more than you know.

Your hate and apathy surrenders you prostrate in the hand of the wicked.
Your youth is quickly fading...eternity is stolen from your eyes,
you will be nothing but a name in the valley of death before days end.

Workers of iniquity set their snares, revolt against death itself, before the lies engulf you.
Let the love the love of the Christ deliver you.
Fear of truth will be cut down and you will be removed from the hands of the wicked...
the tempest kept at bay...transformed into light.

Transcendence to metaphysical truth will deliver from the fate of this world,
bring purpose upon yourself.
His redemption will prevail;
crucified and resurrected...purpose from the cross.

Time To Understand!

2008-06-23T21:02:00.000-04:00

These are lyrics from Time to Understand by The First Step. They are an awesome, pumped up, and positive group of old school hardcore guys on Think Fast! Records. They have a really unique style and a real humility and joy of passion to their music. This song is one of my favorites.

People, asking me why
Cause I use these values as my guide.
A view that's straight, a focused mind
I just want to get the most from life!

It's time.
TIME TO UNDERSTAND!

Values degrading and slipping away
Words to live by not just words to say!
You're using up people and
say your mind is clear
Or bringing to shows violence and fear,
don't you get it!

TIME TO UNDERSTAND!

Not trying to save the world,
just trying to do our part.
Some take this way too far, some not far enough.
Can we see, all this edge on life can be!
It's time to UNDERSTAND!

The Egg incubates

2008-06-23T20:46:00.000-04:00

Quick poem I wrote, in a Dickinson-esque style (as best as I could interpret, she was more or less mentally "divergent"). I don't personally understand or liker her style, but here this is.

The Egg incubates – in its Earthen – womb –

self-Fertilization – cast from the Seed of – Life –

raining upon the – Sunken shell –

discordant of the World – progress shifts –

Dew aggregates – upon the Vessel –

Sprout tall – as the Farmer’s child whom matures – inside –

Devoid – from the inhibiting Weeds –

as a bud – Transforms – from seed to Vineyard -

100 Furies

2008-06-23T20:08:00.000-04:00

Reluctantly...here is a potential song I wrote. I kinda like it, it isn't too cliche, at least I don't think. I think it rightly represents the insanity in the hardcore scene at times, but if I ever use it, I will probably end up changing it and give it more insight or sincerity..in my own way. I don't particularly care for criticisms on the scene, but I truly feel that any of the violence and belligerence would have to change any heart to action for change. Hardcore has so many positives for so many, it has saved so many lives, gave so many kids something the world could never offer and there is no judging or denying that with me but at the same time the myriad of crews and the relentless prejudice and violence that I see and hear about is ridiculous. It was meant to be home when we had no home, a place to escape to, not a place to have fear and conformity to an image. So hopefully this shows some of that contempt, i don't know, tell me.

Smothering every last chance,
for anything this could be.
Striving for a change of heart.
How can we fix everything you've torn apart.

You carry mankind's burdens as your own,
but you're to arrogant to listen up, listen up man!
and the business you're in, mitigates our decisions.
For every problem you've dealt, every loss you've served.

We tried for courage but cowardice hearts ,
never fail to thrive ignorant on belligerence.
We spoke of unity and sincerity,
but never could you step down once
from your noose of arrogant pride, meaningless time.

No more will you have the privilege,
to take anything away from us.
We've found our resolution,
a taste of the cards you've dealt.
All you will have is a vivid hindsight of regrets and remorse:
and our sovereignty will reign supreme .

When we join your game there is nothing you can do!
The gavel is struck! A hundred furies down on you!

Behold The Fowls of the Air

2008-06-23T18:24:00.000-04:00

Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not peace unto this earth,
void of spirit and incapable of tangible prejudice.
Reproduced expectations countless and unconsidered,
mere existence of your toiled appearance presents perfected synthesis of my humanities struggle.
A triune nature from an assumed life aesthetic;
birth forms into shapes of this world but patience results in the
unspeakable complexity to the cerebellum perceived.
Perfected, flawless beauty; simply in caterpillar creations
purity untouched by stresses of thought.
Behold O' Ye of little faith,
for hope yet has meaning as the little moth cycles on;
crawling toward forever; edifying the river of life.

Escape Was Never Promised

2008-06-23T17:57:00.000-04:00

Received from the womb of eternal potential,
it seems the only fastening to hope was knotted by an umbilical rope.
Kinetic disregard set forth unto an elevated sphere of trivial hate and impatience,
my everyday more lame in practice than the prior choice-way;
the baptismal destruction of self (a ship sunk in waters of temporal responsibility)
mulls my misanthropic resistance to jadedness,
only enthralling the subjected to a position of utter faith,
strife of hope relies on grace to loosen tension.
Content could only come from complete metaphysical displacement,
but the implausibility is the only realistic aspect;
and the situation is only enthralled more by inherent loneliness.
Grant me strength before I fall asleep...before the trial is overwhelming...
before I pitifully grovel for an escape...God knows, escape was never promised.

Denying sanctity.

2008-05-31T02:06:00.000-04:00

Empty pages with
vapid potential.
one thousand grains of intertwined vacancy,
as an empty desolation engorges the anticipation:
words madden but to fulfill the eternal grace of kinetic creation.
The great oak of the forest
has more truth,
as the habitual species of preeminence,
leave their unconditional infliction upon bark of life.
Industrialism and progressive infatuation
leaves scars of pride upon the beautiful simplicity.
Metal and mass consumption,
designated products of temporal greed and desire,
leave truth and beauty-
stripped.
Pulped and processed into paper;
utterly meaningless in the face of the root purpose.
Change is made infinitely,
change becomes destruction,
a root of progression-
survival is the explanation.
I won’t graffiti lies.
The silence, the blinding silence-
reveals all.

Soul Vice

2008-05-31T01:20:00.000-04:00

Slipping into intoxication,
logos malfunctions;
for guilt and malice erased by olfactory nostalgia.
A lethargic dismount on reality,
suffers the inner soul fierce.
Beyond the pretense,
caustic disappointment falsely relays,
to preeminent dwellings of raged desolation.
Transcending into active surreality,
it seems our dimension of reality could twice be grasped.
Accelerating quicker than your perished innocence,
blameless comparison with my the naivete of your condition.
Metaphysically reconstructing two months of perfection; every stain wiped as clean as the first impression.

Render Pathos: schism

2008-05-18T02:23:00.000-04:00

vulnerable and willing.

I slip into a an envelopment of self-imposed oppression

my mind brimmed false euphoria

sheets of bliss caressing the mind of despair

doubt.

this ambivalent manifestation,

sparks the paradox of the plot,

waging war with the enmity of my mind.

a pathetic attempt to fall from personal understanding

rather a triumphant falling from grace -

as a lamented friend;

rapping on the door of long-suffering

solitude.

seemingly the antithesis of bliss

as the moments stir rebirth

the disposition of spirit becomes morosity

disposed of sanity

replaced with nihilism;

righteousness fails against the lust of the flesh

truth.

permeates the infirmities of heart

dilapidation becomes my embrace

Abba, heal my broken peace;

replant my faith on your top soil of grace,

as I tear these foundations from the walls of the worlds.

5k to death

2007-10-16T21:41:00.000-04:00

chasing myself up downward escalators.
deceiving colors on murdering walls,
specularly painting myself in their own spectrum:
turned rigamortis in this limelight.
gears moving forward, can't slow down.
soda straw tongues thrusting for organs,
injecting calcite into mineralized minds.
homogenization setting in:
keep up the pace, don't think.

through this narrow-stitched view

2007-10-11T19:00:00.000-04:00

tight stitched cotton, one-half inch hem
earthly tones compliment the oak sky.
his eyes begrudgingly scan the drab frontier: still blue from summers warmth.
a balcony warped with years passed.
basil, thyme, plum tomatoes, palm
once consummated with purpose, lose their composure and weep chlorophyll memories:
fall to dust and forget this varnishing cold.
filled with pity at its own inept
an umbrella stained with the seasons
shudders, fears:
ides of march underway
not even bulletproof panes can shelter from whats ahead.
pull these curtains closed
we can't turn back the hands of time
shelter from truth:
we too must endure this [arctic] hell.

can we break this?

2007-10-02T23:36:00.000-04:00

"These are difficult times. Were in a time, where we're going to enter an age, enter a political a climate, were going to enter a country, were going to enter a mindset of a nation, that will let anything go, and what we preach and message that we bring, that by in faith the cross of Jesus Christ, you can have peace with god and enter in the fullness of your life. A time like this a time thats coming, Christianity will be the one thing that will still get you killed when nothing else will, and so i just want to tell you that Jesus says that in the last days, wickedness is going to prevail and love is going to die, so if you like love and you like the feeling of being in love, and you like the feeling that you can love, you better turn to Jesus Christ before its to late because its going to be easier and easier to compromise as the days go on."

The Truth is that I see this everyday and I look at those who don't believe and how they attempt to deny what I believe and I all I can feel is pity. II have come to an understanding with myself that the reason this world is full of hate and wickedness is because of a LACK of GOD, that's what evil is. This only brings me closer to my love for hardcore, Straight Edge, and their meaning. They are the only things that can give me freedom and joy, and its all in my life because of God. It's time that we relieve ourselves from these imprisonments and chains that bring us down. So, can we break this hold and turn to Jesus Christ?

stormdrains.

2007-09-27T19:23:00.000-04:00

Trash and soot flood the crowded roads
quickly, rodents scuttle to their shingled safety.
Filth and excrement envelope this city
but our minds aren’t vacant, our eyes are [wide] open.
White concrete dams whisper in tongues,
surrounding us, filtering for the sake of prosperity
and now we know, now we know why.
The cause for this over-pollution is in hindsight.
an unpleasant haze deceitfully congests the streets,
but the capitalism can be smelled from miles away.
Beyond these walls lie whitewashed suburbs,
barring chaos within.
We must soak the streets and sqge the linoleum hallways.
Reach down with your firm hand,
don’t let complacency encumber our minds.
Surpass more than serous membrane,
if only to manifest discontent in these futile hearts,
so, they can see what lies beneath the dregs of this city.
Amplify the voltage,
and acclaim “arise proletariat!” and be a myelin sheath for change.
Let the downpour begin,
open the gates and flood these storm drains.
Baptize this city, and obliterate these walls of imprisonment.
Let the flood wash away with this sick city,
illuminate a new era:
our city will shine.