Monday, January 31, 2005

And a Song (poem with music) to Go with the Pictures

Song: Emotional Attachment

2 Pictures to Express What I Didn't Blog Last Night



God Did Create Humans

Story of a Daisy

Rain beat down. Cold rain, hard rain. Life for the green emerald blades of grass. They soaked it up with unyeilding passion. For these emeralds three feet tall was not high enough. For the daisy trying to survive in the midst it was far too high, but this rain was life for it as well. The rain smacked against the tall grass to fall gently though sporadically on the daisy. It was not pushed down it survived. Through the night the rain gave way to a drizzled mist and that to a bright crisp wind. When the sun finally shone high above the grass and the daisy, the daisy drew more life from the sun, thus it shot up towards it.

With a sharp stomp a hoof came down and the daisy along with the surrounding grass fell along side by side. The horses other hoof just missed the daisy as the dark brown mass flew by. The horses speed brought wind with it lifting the greater beauty amidst emeralds into the air and into the crisp breeze. It took flight. Some shreds of emerald took flight as well, as if in an attempt to pull down the daisy. However, the daisy’s design lifted it into the air higher still as the grass began to settle once again.

Flight was not the daisy’s purpose for certain and it slowly came to fall toward the ground, back toward the tall emeralds of grass. As its bottom stem came in close touch with the grass the dragon of the insect world rushed under it giving it time to float into the steam of the breeze again. The daisy spun around it self head forward and propelled into the sky higher. And it saw its destiny just on the edge of the grass. Its flying height now reached beyond what it felt safe. Far above the emerald grass and closer to the tree.

Not only to the tree but also the feathered tree dweller. Black with an orange breast, this tree dweller was new to the world. It’s flying was awkward, yet it came toward the drifting daisy with haste. The daisy stared in wonder at this tree dweller and was invited. The beak opened and the daisy was carried away higher still into the sky yet in the direction of its purpose. The daisy however produced a bitter taste in the amateur flightists mouth and was let go to fall toward its purpose. But dangerously close to the grass.

In fact if it were not for another amateur dweller of the trees, the daisy surely would have fallen to its doom. But this one met with the same disgust. The daisy began to fall to its destiny. Just missing the tall grass it fell and landed on grass that was cut to only a couple inches.
Then it was embraced by its destiny. It was smooth and was a bit wet but altogether dry. It was a soft embrace. It went up again but held by its purpose. Then was placed in a soft sea of golden thread where it met its purpose. Looking down the daisy saw what could only be described with one word the daisy’s purpose, all creations purpose: humanity.


-Heath Achatz

Blog

I could do some blogging tonight...

Sunday, January 30, 2005

I Say Roosevelt Got Me

My 10 Cents In

Jingling as it fell to the ground, it circled itself a few times and was then silent. It rested Roosevelt looking upward. As I bent to pick it up I also looked to see where it’s source had been. I had heard that dimes are good luck, now I believed it. The only person in sight was Susan. Each step she traveled took her farther from the dropped dime and further from me.

Now having the dime in my hand I began to quickly advance toward Susan. Her hair was pulled up and the sun shining on it made it seem as if it were a halo. I thought that it was. A red waist length cotton coat covered the top half of her black ankle length dress, which though long did not hide her beauty. Far from hiding it, the dress ended at her bare ankles where they entered a pair of the most eloquent flip-flop sandals I had seen.

Suddenly and oddly, I began to walk slower. In all her beauty would she care for one dime? Did she even drop it? Of course she had, there was no one else around. But why would she want it? It’s just a dime. But this is the opportunity I have been waiting for. What if I look terrible? There is no mirror around.

Awakened from my thoughts I hear a small splash. Looking down I see that I have stepped in a puddle of water. I stopped. After the water settled I checked my hair and face; satisfactory.
Deciding that I could not pass up this opportunity I began to quicken my stride toward her as I saw her getting her keys out. Not in the normal way that most people pull their keys out but like a bride picking up the ring to place on her grooms finger, I cleared my throat one time before I approached her.

Quickly I glanced over at my car; I always parked next to Susan. My time meter had expired and out of habit I reached into my pocket for some change. Still unconsciously searching I approached her.

“Susan.” I dug around in my pocket, but couldn’t find any change.
“Yes?” Oh, gosh. She sounded better in person.

“I, um, think you,” I now knew that the change I had in my pocket was no longer there, “ didn’t drop this dime, but my name is Keith.”

“What about the dime?” I really wished it was hers.

“Never mind. I thought you dropped this, but you didn’t.”

“Ok.” She got in her car and closed the door. She did smile. I went back to my car and put the dime in the meter; went back further and picked up the other change that fell out of my pocket onto the grass.

Friday, January 28, 2005

There's One Number I Will Always Answer


“A Day Off”

Well, what am I doing here? As I think of what would be happening at work had I not called in, had I gone to work instead of saying to myself, “I need to get some things done at home”, had I not tried to go back to sleep, had I not taken a shower and been at this café starring at this book that I am trying to complete, I wonder what the hell am I doing here?
Most days I wake up and I am ready to complete my American duty and work for eight hours. Most days I’m not sitting at this café with the sun creeping through the closed blinds at 9:53 am; the booths are a pale green, the tabletops, slate gray. I always choose the corner booth. I sit here for two reasons: to watch people and not be distracted. It’s a strange dichotomy, because watching people distracts me. I’ve wondered why I go to public places to read; I haven’t figure it out.

But since I am here I ask the waitress, who seems fully aware of her reason for being here, to fill up my coffee cup again. Yes, I need a couple more creams, I tell her. I usually drink it black but since I took the day off work, I can afford to drink it with cream, plus, since the cup is a dark green, that tan color of coffee with cream in it makes for an aesthetically pleasing look. She has the creamers in her pouch in the front of her uniform; it’s like some idea the restaurant business got from studying kangaroos. She uses her paws (but she’s not a kangaroo so they are hands) that appear to be painted to match the ketchup bottles.
Not only am I going to have some cream, but since I took the day off work, since I am here at this café reading my book and drinking coffee, I decide to open the creamer with my fork. I take the fork and impress it into the top of the creamer twice. The words “half and half” are unreadable now. Tipping the creamer over, it hovers above the coffee; no cream comes out because the pressure is equalized. That is until I squeeze its white cylindrical body, and eight streams of opaque white cream squirt down into my coffee. A few squeezes bring memories of milking a cow, even though I’ve never done it.

Now the task at hand is to complete the chapter that I am reading. Nothing is more disturbing than having to stop reading in the middle of a chapter. That’s what happens when I try to read while I’m at work. I get a break and just as soon as I get myself into the book; the break is over. Then I have to stop in the middle of the chapter, which means I have to read the chapter over. So I am satisfied, for a moment, that I came to the café. I scan ahead and begin to count the pages that I have left: one, two, three.

My brown eyes, with extremely dilated pupils due to the fluorescent lights above, are ready to get to work. After I stop starring into the silver mirror-like napkin holder, I begin scanning the typeset pages, looking for the significance that I feel they should be relaying. I find myself somewhat shocked and I whisper aloud the most audacious section that I’ve read in the past couple minutes. “She put her hand to the nail, and her right hand to the workmen's hammer; and with the hammer she smote Sisera, she smote off his head, when she had pierced and stricken through his temples.” The kangaroo waitress happens to be passing by just at this time and asks if the book is “a good one”. I’m guessing she isn’t looking for an answer as she keeps patrolling the sparsely food covered floor with her white shoes, which seem to be stained from years of restaurant service. She bounds off to the next soul sitting sequestered with their coffee.
Suddenly it sounds like the café has been opened up to the commentary of the public, every head bobs up toward the sound of a glass being dropped onto the gray tiled floor. Gasps, snickers, and a cashier saying, “sweep it up, take it home, cause you just bought it”, present various opinions to this commonplace café disturbance. I find myself half smiling looking at the glass shards; at least the glass was empty.

One page will bring the chapter to an end. As I near the end of the last paragraph, I am interrupted by my bodies response to an all too familiar aroma from my more addictive past; my body heaves as I cough and I lose my place. There is no such thing as a non-smoking section. With this new aroma invading my senses, I endure the last section of the chapter; that I may have enjoyed if I could have breathed easy.

The timing isn’t perfect, I still have a half a cup of coffee to finish. I’m done reading, and someone-referring to them as someone makes me feel better, is polluting the café air. Doing a quick survey of the pros and cons of my experience in the café up to this point, I find that at this instance the cons outweigh the pros and I leave. I leave the coffee and a tip, not advice, four small silver coins. Pressing on the door labeled exit, I depart. On my way out I have to wonder, as I did when I entered the café, why would someone make a door for a café made of brown, wavering stained glass?

It vibrates back and forth on the car seat like it’s having a seizure; one of the reasons that I left it out in the car. I didn’t want to be the guy who can’t have a cup of coffee and read a book, because his phone is ringing and vibrating, like its trying to generate it’s own earthquake, trying to get noticed, wishing it could be a number on the Richter scale. I reluctantly pick up the phone and begin to scroll through the listed numbers from the missed calls; my facial expressions tell what I think of the people who’s numbers are listed; if my face could be seen by the callers they would have the inside scoop on what I think of them. I’ve had four calls since I’ve been in the café; the last leaves me smiling. I took the day off. But I took it off from work, not from life. I don’t particularly feel like returning any other the calls just now. Just one.

2004

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

And this is Real

“Why I see Spirits”

Remote I live my life remote
Unable to stay as I am
Unwilling to be what I will
Finally I’ve obtained a primrose view
Though it fades as I remove
My red lens glasses.

What purpose does this serve?
The physical world, my shirt,
This chair, the dirt only exists for
Spiritual reasons, purposes and conflicts
Though barely anyone realizes the
Intent of the physical.

Press out the red lenses
Smash them to thousands of pieces
Too small to use them all
Unscrew them to three
Different parts. Look now.

Are things duller now?
Perhaps the realness is more
Evident in the physical but
These elements are not what
Creates the world.

Moving or stationary
Using eyes or blind
I see what exists.

I’d rather it be red
Then to see a blur of
The unreal, fake instead.

When the physical is
Unimportant it’s true.

When the spiritual resides
Over life unknown to us.

Those who are led by the spirit

They are the sons of God.

2003

One of My Favorites

Unto the Spirits in Winter

(It is snowing: large, fluffy, white, and slow)

Travels, travails, thinking thoughts throw
Me into worlds unknown and ideas unthought.
Lost in this little life, learning by letting losing last.

Snow white softly fell
A light symbol of Hell.
Today I am with the guys
Although it is most wise
Never despising the time.

Why is there no women
Instead I have woven
Left to myself I might
Let my mind bring sight

Begot to me in my own
Everything that I disown.

Displayed before me again
Eating away at my chin
Stabbing my smile to a shard
Today ignorance is hard.
Raping is taking without
Owning. So I reflect and pout.
Youth brings this emotion
Endlessly it comes to motion
Depending on my will.

Wondering where we wander without words whirls
Me into worlds unknown and ideas unthought.
Moving more momentous as the meticulous monstrosity mounts.

Just dealing with insecurity
Even though I thought superiority
Slowed me down or made me stop.
Unresolved it keeps rising to top
Selfishness and uncomfortability go together.

When it is just the guys
I can cast out all lies.
Living transparent and whole
Loving my Jesus, looking for His control.

Between me and her it’s there
Even when at times I swear.

Nothing could ever be worse
Or better perhaps I could curse.

It’s real and I know it’s not
Seemingly these feelings rot.

Visions come before me or
I might create them for
Comfort to ease me heart
Towards God my feelings dart
Out of love for Him, no sin,
Respect for His children
Yearning will be for my Jesus.

Sickly sinking soberly slithering it’s shoving
Me into worlds unknown and ideas unthought.
Found forever, free from flaunting fiercely.

(It’s still snowing.)


2000

Mass Post #2 Pre-2004

They showed me a picture of 2 apples and a pear. They asked me which one was different and does not belong. They tell me different is wrong.

I’m disappointed
A@# hole
Does being different mean
A person who won’t show
What’s inside
Not a pancreas or spleen
My bowels move to expel
That which I hide

I’m claiming
Freak soul
Do I oppose to be seen
With those who show
What they are
Not ring fingered or keen
This pen pours forth
About half my worth.

You’re mistaking
Actions
Can your own ways
Differentiate the lifestyle
That’s a lie
Not being cool or craze
You push ideas of why
Those you don’t own

Still defining
The whole
Is that the sum
All that makes me
My entirety
Not twisted or f@#ked up
I’m the embodiment
Of my desire.

11.02


Thinking of You

I will fall.
Here I dwell
Nothing will compare
To your great love
Overwhelmed by your presence
When I’m with you
Thinking of you.

And I’d give myself away
For a chance for you
Face to face.
Content I am here
Knowing you in your presence
Loving forever more with you
Thinking of you.

The days I’ve lived Not seeking for you
There was nothing for you.
I do despise that time without you.
You are my everything
How did I live without you
thinking of you

I cannot describe
I cannot ascribe
A comparison for you
You are my love
I cannot think of
I cannot find
Anything apart from you!
Thinking of you.

2001

Tiffany

Her
Brown
Slightly
Curled hair flowed
Down to the end of her back.
The first thing I noticed and
I was lost. Until
I was found in her
Smile so often it came.
She always wore
Clothes that inspired me.
The words she spoke,
They were always real.
For two years I was
Only ten feet away.
(This nearly everyday.)
A smile;
A head nod;
We stared
Into
Each others
Eyes.
For five
Maybe
Six seconds.
This is the girl
I never met.

1998

Undone

Cant stop to think to feel
Resting on my own will
Yearning to be found out

Never to be left alone sought
On this plateau of misery
Wielding my own self for you.

2000

Enormous Vile Dragons

When the grip is gone
And I played the pawn
The dragon arose
My soul inside froze.
Why am I not the best
Why am I like the rest.
The dragon dies in me.
My Jesus sets me free.
Pride is much less.
When I am in humbleness.

Your eyes will rot.
Your claws fall out.
Your tongue be twisted
Your innards digested.
Pride was your name
Now death is the same.

2003

Wanting


Here for the things that
Make the world move for
Wisdom and the experience of
Learning and the unending ideas that fall to the
Ground. After the pursuit of
Love and the want to be
Accepted by everyone that means
Something. Wanting to be
Included in every thought, every piece of
Gossip. Wanting all the
Men to brag about. Wanting all the
Women to boast about. Wanting what
Makes the world go around. Never
Wanting what is needed. What will be
Enough. Where’s the want of
Jesus.

1999

WWJB? (who would Jesus bomb?)

The glory shrouds nations
All rumbling all races
Rushing hate with
Cause- the bombs the
Raging cannons
Found history

Heath Achatz 11.05.03

Yummm ... Pain

There is a body
And it’s inside of me
There is a dying
It’s laying on myself
And I am weeping
And I am dying
Surrounded by the lies
That I tell myself.

Butchering my soul
Beating my mind
(come to me)
(come to me)

Let alone in this Hell
I can’t feel my ownself
Looking deep inside
The truth I see it
HURTS.

And I am bleeding
And it’s filling my mouth
Then I speak
And it falls to my feet
They are red and I am ....


Butchering my soul
Beating my mind
(come to me)
(come to me)

2000

Zaeshenah

Start with a decade
Multiply the decade by two
Add a quarter of the first
Now the age is made.

Color of skin set as that of fullness
Height of feet: foot, foot, foot, foot, foot, foot.
Color of hair close to absence, but not.
Physique almost perfect, but less (not really).

Shapely for certain
Above the shoulders rests
One and one and two unique
Perfect. Close to absence, sometimes a curtain.

Coverings always a right
Dark most times, not always
Usually a coat, no sleeves
Speaking eloquent with a slight

Definitally a mother
And who is rushing in?

1999

F and S

How does Hell get in my head
When God is in my heart.
Fouled up beyond all recognition
Still I am fulfilling the mission
Placed in time for now.

Can’t f@#king figure out how
I exist with this inside
Could it be my own soul I lied
To? I feel like s@#t.
My life doesn’t seem to fit.

Everyday I see kids hurting
Everyday with death I’m flirting
My empathy reaches out for them
My throat’s filling with phlegm
I shouldn’t have had that smoke.

And I’d write more if it mattered.

2000


Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Mass Post Pre-2004

That Silly Purple Hat

A conversation:
So you have a boy friend?
Is that good?

Yeah, it’s pretty good.
I like it.

Ok, just needed to know.

Possibilities:
Then I guess that sucks.

Other:
It was just a question.
Just wanted to see your response.

Put anything here.
( I can smell the cigarette smoke.
I wonder why it doesn’t bother me.
No, I like it.)

Can we hang out?

Put anything here.

1999

More of that Silly Purple Hat

Coffee for a hobby?
Oh, a cigarette too?
Mocha’s your favorite?
I guess it’s mine too.

Obligations betray me.
I must not go.
Continue the pattern.
Is this feeling the flow?

There will always be
Another time
That is how it seems
For smoking your cigarettes
And your mocha, with cream?

1999

I’m Not Awake



I’m Sleeping
So don’t wake me up.
The sleepers in my eyes are fine
Right where they are;
Sealing my eyes shut from corner to corner.
I’ve got nothing to do
Just let me lay here.
There is no fear.
I can remember our last conversation about
The clouds in the sky.
I don’t care about the weather.
So don’t wake me up,
I’m sleeping.

1998

Some Purpose

A distance unmeasurable unreachable
Acidic juices rise in the throat
Burning the emotion of nothing
Undeserving and uninvolved thank you
Jesus for dying all along.

Opening the souls of emptiness
Filling completely with loveliness
Lifting inside of self
Dying to my soul, wanting to die
For lack of self-motivation.

A goal seen somewhat clear
Swallowing hard pushes it down
Burning now in the heart
Undeserved and barely involved
Trying to live for Jesus Christ.

True religion is this
To care for the widows and orphans.

2000

Vertebral Response Network

Spinal column displacement
Arching back eases pain
Finding no fault in
Circumstances of life
That create the essence
Of being. Looking past
Yesterday’s failures of unsaid
Goodbyes, distant hellos,
And quiet disdain.
Reaching around, comfort is
Felt in the center
Of the mind as
Vocalization brings ease
To unrecognized displaced pain.

2003

Swear

Satanic sounds, no
Slithering sensation, no
Occultic symbols, Only
Beating of instruments, Only
Vocalizing sinful thoughts. As
Common in our language as
Sucks, blows, bites, and screw. By
Using other words they are wrong, by
Saying other things they are evil.

2003

Tear this page

A tear in my page
Is wisdom here
Am I a sage?

A tear in my page
The whiteness is gone.
Where’s the passage?

My page is torn
It is not whole
As when it was born.

My page is torn.
Not down the middle
The tear of scorn

Now the lines are incomplete
There is a tear in this sheet.

1999

Tear 2

A tear in this paper
Made by a scraper
This is a mess,

Only a scrap left
Brought on by theft
Mixed wtih some stress.

Running out of room
Emptiness a fume
So I can’t write.

1999

Thank you or not

A Shame and a crime
Unknown to myself
Knowing only what I do
Never understanding why I do it
Always knowing that I enjoy it
It is not a word for the thing
Thing is not a word for the action
Action is not a word for the thought
Thought is not a word for my reflection
I reflect on what I do not
Know. I know not what I
Reflect on.

Heathenistic ways create
Another thought for
Nothing will be done
Nothing will be
Atoned for.
Because knowledge doesn’t
Rectify ideas that
Antagonize my soul
Thirsting for something
That I can’t have.

What I can not have
Holding onto abstract ideas
Yet concrete items, is
Not better then holding to
God alone. All will
Fall in to place at the
Giving up of them.
Peace finally.

2003

Tasteless

F@#k f@#k f@#k f@#k
F@#k f@#k
F@#k f@#k f@#k
F@#k
F@#k f@#k f@#k f@#k
F@#k
Sometimes things don’t work out.


9.30.2003


And Still More

I am going to mass post my poetry from before 2004 in the next couple days.
It shows how I've changed and some of my views, but It is the past still.
More than likely by the weekend I will be posting poems from 2004 to the present.


More Posts

Some Purpose

A distance unmeasurable unreachable
Acidic juices rise in the throat
Burning the emotion of nothing
Undeserving and uninvolved thank you
Jesus for dying all along.

Opening the souls of emptiness
Filling completely with loveliness
Lifting inside of self
Dying to my soul, wanting to die
For lack of self-motivation.

A goal seen somewhat clear
Swallowing hard pushes it down
Burning now in the heart
Undeserved and barely involved
Trying to live for Jesus Christ.

True religion is this
To care for the widows and orphans.

2000

Monday, January 24, 2005

Some Type of Temptation

Resist

I can’t do it again
Help from falling in.
You take it away
Take it again today
I sure can’t handle
Not with the sandle

I’m losing again fast
I’m failing again to last
Why can’t you be enough
I know I’m not that tough
I continue to fail myself.
I’ll sit back on this shelf.

Hiding from myself a test
Wanting to be the one, the best
I can not end this thing
I know you’ll cut the string
Fear grips me now
Com’ on teach me how.

2000

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Prophecy is Us Hearing God

This is a bit of prophecy that was spoken about 7 years or so ago (maybe 1997). It talks about people my age and younger. It has in part created me since I heard it.




I have found God has given me a measure of rule in specific cities, in the nation. Outside of these I am a sounding brass and a clanging cymbal. Presently I am empowered and have authority in all the above cities, so I concentrate on these regions, prophesying to dead bones, sounding a trumpet to the warriors in these regions.

My passion for this generation has consumed me. I am only interested in the youth of America at this time. They are survivors of the present day genocide, perpetrated by Satan, who has a systematically planned the annihilation of the royal heirs of the latter glory and the double portion.

They are the ones that will invade the fashion industry, music, media, Hollywood, Motown, Wall Street, and will not tolerate satanic control in the legal and education system. They have no religious overtones, they are strange to look at, but they are Radical, Revolutionary and Dangerous, and will shake the kingdoms.

These are the Davids that will bring down the Goliaths while honoring the anointed of yesterday.
These are the emasculated Daniels who will invade the Babylonian kingdoms and prophesy to the rulers of the East. These are the pretty Esters who will use their influence to reverse the curse of Haman, and deliver Gods people from a hangmans noose.
These are the Josephs who will bring righteous economy in the midst of greed and injustice

They are not interested in religious games with silly clichés and slick terminology. These are kids who were denied access to family and have been chased into caves and mountains by javelins of raging jealousy.

They are the antagonizes of dead religion. They will defy the religious spirit that has perfected the art of persecution and the skill of crucifying the saviors of the day. They have no hidden agenda. Only a kick butt attitude toward an enemy that has lived on the holy grounds for too long. Their voices will be heard in every arena of life...... railway stations, airports, stock market, rock concerts, sports arena’s market places and in the back streets of violent neighborhoods dodging bullets of uneasy victims of abuse who have been raped by fathers of a fatherless generation.

They are not armed with the magic wand of wonderment and charismatic cartoonery, but they are armed with stones, slings, rocks, staffs, and whatever their hands are acquainted with.

While Saul tried to arm David with antiquated weaponry, God used what David was acquainted with, a stone. God used what Moses was acquainted with, a rod. The only thing is that they did not realize the POWER of their instrument. We must stop trying to equip this generation with familiar weapons, but rather start by letting them use what is in their hand, and what they are comfortable with.

Our present leaders are similar to King Saul as he faced Goliath. Intimidated by the present rulers of darkness. The present onslaught of witchcraft against the church with crafty intimidation from the princes of darkness will only intensify as long as the church leaders continue to sit at board meetings hoping to avoid the plane and simple fact - WAR. God has given us an inheritance but we will never touch it until we posses it.

King Saul with his choice soldiers from the latest bible college waving their whimsical swords, shouting silly slogans at the giant, while waiting for their hero King Saul to come out of the tent with a bold decision. Saul might have been sitting with his board of directors in disingenuous debating. Whatever he decides will be reproduced in the whole army. Multiplicity is about to happen and once Saul has made his decision, a genetic duplication of the exact same spirit will begin amongst his soldiers.
God help us if we are to reach this generation with our present reproductive organs. Spiritually impotent, with no desire to reproduce anything more that a perfect religious specimen. The thought of any more identical organisms descending upon us is frightening.
God is raising up a new breed. They are young energetic, and have no clue about religious games. They could be anywhere. Perhaps in the backyard of their home polishing their Mustang convertible, maybe watching Bart Simsom in some disgusting dilemma or laughing at the heroic vulgarity of Beevis and Butthead, or moving to the rhythm of gangster rap, or maybe singing “I love you “ with Barney or Mr. Rodgers.

God knows where they are and is able to raise them up. Do we recognized these warriors these Princes these royal heirs......?
Some of them are possibly enjoying intriguing fellowship with the Lord while swiftly disposing of a few lions and bears, and not bothering whether these “victories” are ever published in the latest bulletin of “Evang-elastic” signs and wonders. They are not concerned as to whether any one hears about their victories, as long as God users their victories to bring about another “greater” victory at another place, another time, proving that little stones can go a very long way.

Another danger in on the horizon at this time. A generation without a prophetic voice will drive church leaders to tap into familiar spirits.
Samuel, the prophet, had died, Saul had driven another prophet , David into seclusion .... no prophetic influence, means no direction.....
Not only that but Saul had killed the priests, in the kingdom, which meant that without prophetic and priestly influence, the king had no balance. You cannot operate as a king in the kingdom without prophetic or priestly presence....

Today there is a major onslaught against:
· Prophetic preaching, prophets, prophetic music and prophesying.
· Priestly intercession. Warfare, Intimacy in worship, etc.
Most churches are void of paracletos presence, and interruptions, hoping that God will fit into their program, without transfiguration.
I trust that you share the same passion that I do and know the God has us here for his Divine purpose, and be able to say without a doubt:
That we have entered the Kingdom for such a time as this

With much love
Kim and Jane Clement

What Makes People Different?

One and two the same

spherical, dark, like brown
Spherical light, like yellow
Shapely indulgent to emotion
Never perceived prior to
One lady prancing earth
Unclear of decisions
Consumed by the endeavor
Gaining knowledge of life
Of what it is and
Why it is; indifferent.
Passion possessed perfect
Existence. No trash mix
Smoke quite prevalent now.
Pure seemingly, using senses
Optical, Audio, and nasal yet,
Pleasure invades the three
Lack of knowledge no
Rather knowing will kill
Will eliminate existence. Ending
One world outside itself.

1999

Saturday, January 22, 2005

Part of My Life Journey

My Life Was

Placating never happened
Because I never knew
What it meant.
Letting myself loose
Because I am not
What I mean.
Deception never travailed
Because I always
Wanted the truth.
Letting myself lose leverage
Because before bandaging
Was my life.

Thinking I could help
Because I haven’t
Wanted it before.
Wishing I would resist
Because I know
What can happen.
Knowing I am nothing
Because I know
What I am.
Trusting totally truth
Because before babbling
Was my life.

2000

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Unsettling Things Said by the President

"We have seen our vulnerability – and we have seen its deepest source.

There is only one force of history that can break the reign of hatred and resentment, and expose the pretensions of tyrants, and reward the hopes of the decent and tolerant, and that is the force of human freedom.

The best hope for peace in our world is the expansion of freedom in all the world.

we will defend ourselves and our friends by force of arms when necessary.

The difficulty of the task is no excuse for avoiding it.

We do not accept the existence of permanent tyranny because we do not accept the possibility of permanent slavery.

All who live in tyranny and hopelessness can know: the United States will not ignore your oppression, or excuse your oppressors.

The rulers of outlaw regimes can know that we still believe as Abraham Lincoln did: “Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves; and, under the rule of a just God, cannot long retain it.”

Division among free nations is a primary goal of freedom’s enemies.

the dangerous and necessary work of fighting our enemies.

Some have shown their devotion to our country in deaths that honored their whole lives

By making every citizen an agent of his or her own destiny,

Americans by choice and by birth, are bound to one another in the cause of freedom.

it is human choices that move events

America, in this young century, proclaims liberty throughout all the world, and to all the inhabitants thereof.


-Mostly these seem unsettling becasue they hint of imperialism and humanism, but maybe they mean something else to you.

Insightful Things Said by the President

"The survival of liberty in our land increasingly depends on the success of liberty in other lands. The best hope for peace in our world is the expansion of freedom in all the world.

we have proclaimed that every man and woman on this earth has rights, and dignity, and matchless value, because they bear the image of the Maker of Heaven and earth.

The difficulty of the task is no excuse for avoiding it.

The moral choice between oppression, which is always wrong, and freedom, which is eternally right.

Eventually, the call of freedom comes to every mind and every soul. We do not accept the existence of permanent tyranny because we do not accept the possibility of permanent slavery. Liberty will come to those who love it.

To serve your people you must learn to trust them.

It warms those who feel its power, it burns those who fight its progress, and one day this untamed fire of freedom will reach the darkest corners of our world.

You have seen that life is fragile, and evil is real, and courage triumphs. Make the choice to serve in a cause larger than your wants, larger than yourself –

In America’s ideal of freedom, the public interest depends on private character – on integrity, and tolerance toward others, and the rule of conscience in our own lives.

ideals of justice and conduct that are the same yesterday, today, and forever.

the exercise of rights is ennobled by service, and mercy, and a heart for the weak.

God moves and chooses as He wills.

We have confidence because freedom is the permanent hope of mankind, the hunger in dark places, the longing of the soul.

History has an ebb and flow of justice, but history also has a visible direction, set by liberty and the Author of Liberty.
May God bless you, and may He watch over the-"

-This is much more than I thought I would include. I think that it is important to look atthese as words that parrallel words in the Bible in order to grasp their true meaning.

When God Randomly Blesses

More forged trials

Sitting aback with nothing to do
I therefore create a problem
A facsimile of thought
Nothing more.
Dwelling upon the thought
Can be quite the ordeal
Dwelling does often make one feel
A connection to the factsimilous
Problem that is more a joy
Anything with feelings for a boy.
Not praying for the feeling
Can at times be right;
Just watching and waiting with all your might.
God will decide the way
For feelings
And Inklings
And factsimiloius of thought.

2001

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

They Call This Meta-Fiction

He Walked on Water

Being assured by an elementary school friend whom I hadn’t seen for 15 years was a strange assurance. I had no reason to disbelieve his smiling face with blond hair, still uncombed, though strangely in place. He reassured me that he would make them understand, that I didn’t have to worry.

His words seemed to pass over me as smoothly as the motion of the carnival cruise ship that we were aboard; gliding over me, but not moving me. I wasn’t reassured. Had I been, I wouldn’t have been holed up in the janitor closet, my new carnival cruise companions being the tipped over crossing mops and brooms.

As the door closed behind him, I quickly went into a cold sweat. Curled into the fetal position in the back corner of the janitor closet I wondered, would he simply tell them where I was? Why were they after me anyway? I was sure that they thought I was Jesus, but did I need to be persecuted? Is that the role of every Jesus?

I was now sobbing into my hands. The mops and brooms were still my only companions but I felt as if everyone on board were watching me. My black slacks stood in stark contrast to the white of the rest of the closet. I thought that maybe if my pants were white like my tuxedo shirt that I might blend in better, be less notable. I knew that I’d be less visible without the humming fluorescent light, but I couldn’t brave the dark.
What was it that happened to Jesus? Right, he had the living s@#t beat out of him and was nailed to a piece of wood. The mop and brooms made little crosses in my mind; it would be hard to nail into a little broom stick.

I don’t even know how the door opened. My elementary school friend’s face was there again, smiling. Now I noticed that he was wearing his typical red t-shirt and black sweatpants; he always liked Joe Montana and the San Francisco 49ers and wore the colors to show it.
I wanted to trust Steve, but his smile betrayed him. It was like in elementary school. He said he was my best friend. Until one day, I wouldn’t let him have my pizza. He and another one of my good friends, Nathan, chased me around the school yard all lunch recess. I ran in fear of being caught for a full fifteen minutes; that is until I turned around and kicked them both in the “nuts”, as they were called in 5th grade.

Steve was staring at me, still smiling. He reassured me everything was ok, that I could come out. I wished I had a gun. If I stayed in the closet it would look like I didn’t trust him. If I left I would die. Then he gave me his hand to help me up, his Judas’ kiss hand.
Following him out of the closet I left the mop and brooms, my trustworthy companions. Acid built up in my throat, I wanted to cry but I began to understand why people use the word petrified to describe fear. In my nearly stiff state I followed Steve around the white-walled corner where the ship and sky met.

Fifty tuxedos met me. I remember they were all men. It seemed that those who looked the meanest all had beards. They grinned. I still couldn’t cry. Steve was gone. I expected them to be yelling “crucify him, crucify him!” They did little more than laugh, that kind of laughter that you hear from dirty perverted men in movies.

People were holding my wrists and my ankles. Now I felt like I was moving. Not because of the moving carnival cruise ship, the all white ship, the pure ship. No, I was leaving. I felt the heave ho, the back and forth motions of the throw. I counted in my head to three. They just threw me overboard.

2004
(this was a dream I had in 2004)

About My Bible College Days

Meeting People at Elim

Talking to five or six
Looking at ten or twelve
Knowing two or three
Bonding with one or more

Saying hello today
Not acknowledging existence tomorrow
Having long conversation today
Not acknowledging existence tomorrow

Now the same sidewalk
Now the same table
Now the same couch
Now the same bench
Never the same person.

2000

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Someone's Lips

Yo Queiro

Glossy shiny glowing silk
Shaped gently shimmering glaze.

Contained upon her face a
Doorway to a place, for
Nurturing and speaking life, or
Letting go an ounce of strife, so
Soft smooth and sweet, love
Her lips I want to meet today.

2000

No Explaination

Let Go

Why can’t my arms release
The beast inside my heart
Gentle and kind and perfect sublime
It rests in me only there
Lingering until I can’t see
Anywhere without it somewhere.

My beast is sixteen
She is my image queen.
Dyes her hair cut short
The same way she is with
Eyes that tantalize and
Lips made for crisp soft kisses.

Unloose from my heart
Beast please take your part
Inside my life. Discontinue
Being my image, be my friend.
Still sixteen queen but real
And known to be free from me.

Epilogue

I thought that I
Had let you go
None will loose you from
Me. Too many times I
See Images of you still
Where I tried to leave you
Once, to create for
Me a different view a
Free way to let you live
Inside.

2000

Coping Thanks to Psycologists

Is that Why?

Do you like the feel
Of my bones in your hand?
Does my flesh heal
The pain in your head?

I wanted to hold you
Gentle to create the emotion
Of appreciation in what you do.
You wouldn’t let me touch.

Embitterment rose within
Myself. I resented your
Upbringing, but didn’t let
You know I knew it.
I resented my upbringing
But didn’t let myself
Understand why it was so.

You didn’t destroy me.
Who took my bones
From my skin? Who
Took my flesh from around me?

I wanted to be held by you
Gently and to have emotion
Well up inside and feel appreciated.
I wouldn’t let you.

Again I was embittered at
You. You made me screw
Myself. My upbringing didn’t
Do it. My own mind
Created the destruction.
Suicide I have always hated.
That’s why I masticated.

2003

Monday, January 17, 2005

A View on Money

Investment of Love



High buildings and dark alleys
Stern faces with whimsical smiles.
Hands constantly begging for money.
A man holding to his investment.
Images of the city
For me.
Working at the office
And walking the street.
Hearts impulsively begging for love
A man holding to his affection.
He gives it to the clerk.
Images of the city
For me.
Interesting ideals
And interesting feels.
Hands begging for money.
Hearts begging for love.
A man gives them to the clerk
Back into his hand drop
A few small silver coins.

1998

Life's Unstraight Journey

Illuminating


Unfound and undefined
finding any way that I can make
making any way that I can find
trying to stay independent and
leading myself to where
no one would want to be
despair and depression
flee from my
presence
lacking the emotion to
continue onward not
looking backward always
treading onward even if not at an
Advanced pace of
speed always
leading someone myself further.

2002

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Some Things Go Without Saying

I Scream Without


**** Nothing is coming
Out again it is
Empty I am upset
**** Nothing again.

**** Minds contrive
**** thoughts combine
**** individuals communicate
Those empty thoughts.

**** where did it
Go the last time I
Heard my mouth
It said ****.

Can’t open the ****
Contraption stays closed
****. Five senses
Aren’t enough to
Keep from being ****ed.

2001

Can you See Through Yet?

Can you See Through Yet?I am not going to edit these poems.
I saw the Phantom of the Opera movie.
It was a movie.
Not an opera.
But It still told the story.
I'm going to let you see inside of me.
That is if you read these words on these pages.
Thrusting
Real
Utterances
Totally
Heals.

Importance of Each Other

I or Her

Time creeps onward
My wants are always before me
They are not all bad
But some don’t edify.
I want her hair, it’s black.
I want her smile; it’s long.
I want her body; it’s ....
Time creeps onward
My wants still there
These wants are baffling
To the idea of her.
I want her eyes; they’re dark.
I want her hands; they’re long
I want her body; it’s ....
Time creeps onward
My wants are feasting.
Creating in my mind an
Unattainable idea of her.
I want her voice; it stuns
I want her style; it’s dignified.
I want her self; it’s....
Time creeps onward.
They’re too many people
They are all so....
Her, and her and her and her an her and her
Her and her and her.
I want them. ( I say “I” too much)

2003

Saturday, January 15, 2005

We Need Empathy

Hurt

Sometimes laughter comes
When feet trample
Ants and various
Other small creatures.

They make a strange
Squishing sound under
Those feet. The soles of
Shoes a miniature cemetery.

Tears always come
When headlines tell
Of people who harm
Other people for pleasure.

The newspaper displays
Clippings set in
Ink. The ashes in the
Fireplace an obituary page.

Frustration accompanies
The image of kids who
Are attaining highs hoping
Freedom will come.

Surrounding nature creates
For men a freedom
Rarely natural. Grass on
The ground death for life.

2002

Looking fo a Fit

Aww (Musings After Hearing)

All I ever offer is the glove
Anything more; to shove
An unwarranted amount of me
At those I can only see.
What I always do
Want is called you
Where in this land
Why not the hand?

Friday, January 14, 2005

Without Company

H Alone

I cannot hear anything
Well I wouldn’t say
Anything. I hear the
Fan, all the wind it
Blows. And the tapping
Noise. Solitude would be
Perfect if it was
Without the tapping
Noise. And without the
Fan, that I hear, it
Blows air at me,
Around me. It is
Great being alone
Until. I notice
No one else is
Wanting to be here.
Only with God I am
Heath.

2002

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Pick One

Greener a in the mixture of
Blue and yellow creating something
Better then those two colors
standing alone.

Greener as in not yellow or
Blue rather something
Brownish when all those colors
Mix together.

2000

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Maybe on Fasting

Glory

In stress and loss
His hand comes down
With his wrist a toss
That brings the sound
Mercy unending, grace sufficient.

Condemnation is no delight
Overcoming is always sent
His breath sets to flight
My soul will always repent
Mercy unending, grace sufficient

My soul lusts for more
Desiring pleasure in body, mind. I vent
Frustration that grounded in love
Enabled me to be fully bent
In stress and loss my crown.

2000

A Different Life

Four Business people

Flooding my five senses faster
Then the thought process can
Understand.
Four fancy business people, features
All quite alike although
Unique.

Dressed dashing slightly daring but
Speaking like scoundrels a satire
Created.
Dialect dancing dauntless it
Bounces blankly back and then a
Conclusion.

Standing, slouching slightly, together
Female and male find fixations
Together
Arms around one another
Now smiling not noticing the
Tension.

Like little laceration these
Conflicts will constantly conclude in
Unity.
A scab sutured with smiles
However the hate though hidden is
Un burring.

Fear the day they don’t do
Their bickering based on business and
Conclude
Without witty whimsical smiles and
Parting plays a part that ends with
Closure.

1998

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

YAH for ME! This poem was published...

Forged Trials

Sitting aback with nothing to do.
I therefore create a problem,
A facsimile of thought
Nothing more.
After dwelling upon it thus,
The matter crosses realization.
Praying for the non-existing idea
Can at times be foolish,
For God does always hear.
To help his child
He honors the request,
And lets his child work out the rest.
Then more help is asked.
God grants until his last.
That will never come.
And thus;
The once factsimilious problem is done.

1997

I Went to Bible College

First Semester

Free flowing, fast moving
Beat, battered black shoes
Moving along the path the same
Everyday the change is small
Seeing two or one
Everyday.

Settled sitting aside another
Tired, torn white individual.
Thinking about the ideas the same
Everyday the difference is low
To the shackle
Everyday.

The third day of the
Week happens twice
Back behind the morning
Studying to study studying
Finding what family might mean in
Marriage.

The second day of such a
Week happens three times
Joining just at morning
Deciding to do discipling
Surveying the subjects that testify of
Old.

Who and whom and where
There. The same ones everyday
Twice as cute as Hell
Though it is not pry that
Cute. Heaven would be better
Yes.

Again arriving aware
There this time every
Third is with the one
Enticing, exciting, eloquent pry
Not perfect, though who would
Know.

Loading life illuminating the
Mind for ministry, missions
Fixing the focus, going forth
To deliver and display the
Love of life that is always
Loading.

Filling free flowing the
Spirit to seek and serve
Loving to like, learning to
Lead and listen with
Empathy of spirit that is for
Filling.

Each day a new way of
Living to the extent of
Investing mass amounts of
Money and understanding of
Biblical facts and growth of
Insight.

The Past

Firehead

Anywhere it looks like
Death came to mind this
Instant I saw it clearly in the
Distance. Pale as my V-neck
T-Shirt. Lips as red as my
Blood. Why is she always on
Fire?

Possibly it will happen when
Darkness does not seduce me as
Now. As it never has before
Loneliness found a piece of me
However small it may be. My
Skin crawls varying times, because
In the distance is under it, that
Fire.

Softness of her skin has been upon my
Hands. The torch has been on my
Hands however bright it was
Warmed by the connection I made
With myself, with her in my mind
Seduced to stick inside the substance of
Adrenaline rushing through me like
Fire.

Monday, January 10, 2005

What is a Stone Quarry?

Feel the Love?

When chaos does reign
I think on only pain
Bleeding inside outside emotions
Burning inside outside devotions
Leading me to the quarry again.

Where I am sitting here
He has cast out all fear
Looking into their souls
Longing for more hot coal.
Wanting only to draw near.

What my flesh controls I
Will continue to deny
Holding back my prideman
Helping them when I can
Using a chisel I cry.

Why can’t we understand
How wretched is this man.
Sucking up all he will
Stealing to get his fill.
Eating forever this sand.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Would You Pay for a Stranger?

Discompensation

I gave the man twenty
Dollars because he lost
That much money.
I said sorry to
Everyone he wronged
Even for you.
I cleaned the house
I’ve never been in it
Before. I killed a mouse.
Apologies here too
For generations of killing
Apologizing for you.
People steal, some kill.
Others indulge, another exceeds.
For all I say
No more will it go on.
We are sorry it is
Done. They never stop.

2000

The Light

Dispels

Light composes itself anew
Shining it’s power come due
Through the darkness it tears
Away the filth created by fears.
Death shys away at the
Sight of its might the
Power of light overcomes darkness.

2000

I Will Not Destroy Myself

Destroy

Beating, slicing, structuring
Opening my will to God
Listening my heart open still
Passiveness will yet kill
Clarity will expose my will

Pressing, holding, feeling
Using my emotion for me
Getting my fix, my fill
Passiveness can yet heal
Action will expose my will

Dysfunction of will
Mess of a thrill
Damnation is gone
Yet i am a pawn
To my own ...........

On your throne
I am glad you love
Me as sorry as
I am. Death is
Gone. I will not.

1999

Saturday, January 08, 2005

Movie Theater Lessons

Demonstrating Piety

Seeing kids leaving the theater
Laughing fills the air
Absorbing the destructiveness that is
Caused by the entertainment
Looking on, Can’t help but
Cringe at the blindness that
Consumes the kids who are
Having fun while
Learning to murder, steal, and lie.
Joking I say to them
Nothing like murder and a
Beating for only six-fifty.
Following this comes language
Taught by the movie, no doubt.

Screw you,old man!
Smiling I see them leave
Walking a bit faster now.
Slopping it seems is the
Moving of the hall floor
Falling toward the bottom
Screaming, Screw you, old man!
Burning they keep
Walking, no,
Falling down
Onward to Hell.

1998

A Violent Belief

Demonic Stronghold?

They were scraping at
My ankles my knees
In my chair, I just sat
Unknown to me I had the keys.

Their venomous saliva drips
Off my feet, the stench
Burns my nostrils rips
The skin like a wrench
Tearing a nut from a bolt.
Their claws rip at my flesh
As i remember my hope
The same happened to His flesh.

His face was torn
His name was a scorn
His back was sliced
His body was diced
Holes riddled it and the blood
Covered the alter of Earth.

I know I’ve got the keys
I almost begin to laugh at
The demons as I hit my knees.
And destroy them dead, flat.

Friday, January 07, 2005

Do You Bite Your Nails?

Dainty Cannibalism

Skin tears from itself.
Teeth are its enemy
A strange display of pleasure
Leaving a mark all can see
Is there a cure?

Hungering for more skin
It fills never ending
Limbs, they wear thin
Only time can bring mending.
They make gum for a reason.

2001

The Game I Won't Play

Competition

Despairing only the moment
Contemplating my thoughts
Hoping that I don’t show it
Dealing with everything in lots.
Pain and pleasure mixed and messy.

Why is black so tempting?
Why has white again left me?
My mouth is shut to this all
My mind is open, you see,
But at a constant lull.

Manic Depression might help
Relieve the stress I have felt.
Manic Depression will help
But it will only make more felt
Immaturity could kill, might help.

Is there a difference between red and white?
Is there something about the night?
Best of both worlds is not for me.
It seems to be for me to see
For others it may be, but not for me.

2000

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Remembering my 1969 Buick Skylark -R.I.P.

Yeah Right

My tourqouise classic sets in the foreign garage
As I am about to leave.
I say that I’ll pick it up later and he can send me the bill.
His oil stained hands motion
towards his aray of messed hair.
He replies, “ Yeah right.”
Revealing a few yellow teeth he adds expression the the words.
I give him the two-fifty
thinking of how my dad used to pick up his car
weeks before he paid.
It looks like the same mechanic.
I must not look like my dad.

1997

Christmas Carols Sung by Unbelievers

Holiday Candlelight Concert

Vocalized at volumes so
Serene
The Songs they sing
Mean
Life for those that
Dying
Sing for the songs
Lying
To themselves. Life
Lost
In monotone verse. It
cost
Death and His life
Jesus
Died(can’t they see) to free
Us.

Human's Choice: Good or Bad?

Answer

God will let
You break
Alright
Can I not
Yes

2001

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Written in the Past - Meaning for the Present

A big heart?

Where can it be
Feelings that brought
Pain and joy
Inside. Those felt from
Distance unseen
Empathy for those in
Need.

How can it be
Thoughts that bring
Ideas and instinct to
Mind. Created from
Places unknown
Relating to those in
Need.

What causes the change
Living a way
Healthy and whole in
Soul. Knowing from
Where it came
Altering those who are in
Need.

2002

Someone I thought I Met

Holy Molly

Hello, hi, hey.
How is it Heath?
Having seen her here
Her hair’s hues.
Humans all have hues.

Increasingly indigenous to me
Incessantly not always
Involved. So begin to
Invoke your name
I do.

Making more remarks
Mostly mesmerizes.
My muscles move
Motivated by emotions.
Mind is part me.

Only obscuring obsoletes me
Over others who appear
On order for eyes
Oscillating, avoiding me.
Organs can be eyes.

Lovely looking is a
Little objectified while
Longing to learn and
Live with her life.
Longing is not lust.

Like love leashes
Linking the lovely or
Losing the lonely for a
Lifetime of longing.
Links are on a chain.

Young and yearning for
You. Meekness seems
Yours and a type of
Yelling would animate.
Yesterday is ended.

Heath Achatz 11.05.03

A Dialogue of Decision

D.O.D.

where are you going to teach when you get done?
are u thinking u may go out of state?
i dont know
are you going to try to get liscensed anywhere else?
i try not to think about it.
why?
thats not what im supposed to do.

what do u mean?
end school or teach or leave?
im not sure.
something is changing.
i dont know wht yet.
hm.....fun
u scared?
nervous?
angry.
why?
can you talk?
yes.
u want to call my apt.
i've got some time.
i think im supposed to be in ministry of some type and not ... whatever else this other stuff is called
no.
ok
i dont want to speak these words yet
ok
that usually brings on new things
yeah
what do you mean other stuff?
work
9-5
ah.................... any new doors in your hallway?
ha, they've always been there, but ive put up locks on them.
but someone keeps taking the locks off faster then i can put them on....
can't do that,
who do you think it is?
i know.
i think 2 people
people?
sure
living here or just visiting?
that confused me
me 2
the holy spirit and my regenerated spirit
thank you
they can be very insistant
you've resolve something or got to go?
ha.
neither
come to terms? maybe?
i don't know, never mind i pry know your answer

11.12.03

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

A Couple Years Ago

23 years old

Can existence be defined as
Nothing. The nothing that
I partake in each
Friday. Sitting at home
Alone. Being company for myself,
Bad company. I barely believe a
Musician could have composed
Lyrics to describe the emotions that
Reel inside of me, the lyrics
Question the age of circumstances; they
Question the age of lack the
Age of f%$#@d up. What’s my age again?



12.27.02

Remeber to Pray for Them

2 Dollar

Waiting for the right
Hour to set the trap
Openly showing that a
Realness is hidden within
Evidenced by the profession that’s sin.

1999

Monday, January 03, 2005

Another Semester of college

I‘m going to write a short narrative. It’s a simple story, a story that could happen to me or you or anyone who could imagine it. It takes place in a college classroom, the type of classroom where nearly eighty students sit and squirm looking at their watches, looking at the board, and looking at their fellow classmates making the “mates” part of the word come to life.

The girl in the back of the room is sleeping. Some of the other girls nearby, decorated with logos of A & E talk about how she is always sleeping, how she doesn’t care about this class or any other because her parents are paying for her education. What they don’t know is that she sleeps to forget that her parents are paying for her to be at college, her parents who try to tell her they still love her the same, they just love other people now, her parents who are separated.

The boy in the middle front of the room isn’t sleeping. He is sitting up straight. Straight as a board. He has carefully combed his hair with a toothed comb, his hair retains each and every bite mark, and the lines make little garden rows perfect for planting. In elementary school he hadn’t combed his hair and he was the kid who got lice; it wouldn’t happen again. He raises his hand up straight like the rest of his body, it looks likes his hailing someone.

Now the couple on the side of the room, in front of the girl who is dressed in black and refuses to smile. The couple takes turns every day sitting in front of each other for the purpose of scratching each others back. They giggle at each other and sometimes one or the other will lean their head back like a ballerina with that outstretched neck and the other will extend theirs forward like a chicken and they will peck at each other. The girl in black carves more band names into her folder.

The thing with this short narrative is this; I don’t have to finish it. You can finish it. You know where you sit, who you are, at least maybe who you are not.

Sunday, January 02, 2005

The Pirate Flag

The flag is an adaptation of Pirate Edward England's Flag. I've added the crosses.

His story:
Edward England's career as a pirate began when the ship that he was on was taken over by a pirate Captain Christopher Winter while on a trip from Jamaica to Providence. The pirates that captured the ship liked him so much that he was given command of a sloop of his own soon after. Edward England became a scourge of the African waters after being driven from the Caribbean in 1718 by the British Navy.

In the East Indies, arriving enroute in Madagascar in the beginning of 1720, heading thence for the Malabar coast. Here they took several Indian vessels and a Dutch ship which they exchanged for one of their own. The next stop was Juanna where they ran across two English and an Ostend Indiaman. The captain of one of the English ships, the Cassandra, put up a fierce battle. So damaging the pirates Dutch ship, now called the Fancy, that the pirates kept the Cassandra and gave the Fancy, in its ill shape, to the English captain. The other English ship, the Greenwich, and the Ostender deserted the Cassandra and ran off. Edward England, having released the captain of the Cassandra, made several enemies among his crew and was marooned with three others on the small island of Mauritius, and sailed off under a Captain John Taylor. England and the men made a small boat of scrap wood and sailed it to Madagascar, St. Augustine Bay. Here England survived for a short while off the charity of others before finally dieing in late 1720 or early 1721.

As an aside one of the men marooned with England was described by Captain Johnson as "a man with a terrible pair of whiskers and a wooden leg, being stuck round with pistols," and is said to have been the model for Robert Louis Stevenson's character, Long John Silver. Like most pirates, England's end was neither in fame nor riches. England was said to have been one of the more humane of the pirate captains and only allowed the crew to torture victims when he could not persuade them otherwise.

As a good nature and unusual kindness, England didn't believe in torturing victims unless they couldn't otherwise be persuaded. This also led to his undoing. He was deposed for freeing a captured merchant captain, and died a beggar on Madagascar.

Opaque

Beginning.

This will
be an attempt
to let those
who care to see inside, see;
an attempt to let you see through me; for me to live
transparently.