Writer's Block

Nothing comes from nothing unless something proves divine;
Something brings up nothing, rehashing broken lines;
Madam night draws her cape across the slowing world;
Bringing fearsome light and piercing darkness foretold;
And 'lo I sit and wonder on the nature of my life;
And nothing comes of nothing, for divinity is not my wife.

posted by Pacer 8/30/2001

Wednesday, August 29, 2001

Emptiness

Empty arms hold emptiness
And empty eyes view empty breasts
While empty feet caress empty thighs
And empty tongues speak empty lies

posted by Pacer 8/29/2001

Loneliness

Sex a substitute for love
And love a substitute for sex
Upon the altar
Of woeful happenstance.

Physical a poor substitute
And spiritual an elusive goal
Leaves man to substitute
Sex for love overall.

Emptiness is a drink
Not fun to enjoy alone
Therefore many seek
To enjoy it, not alone.

posted by Pacer 8/29/2001

Random

Tripping,
Flipping,
Quickening,
Words roll off the tongue
As children's attention's drift
Ever quickening, ever random.

posted by Pacer 8/29/2001

Confusion Reigns

Upon no thing can I commit
For my soul, it is lost
Upon a woman who I loved
Who could not bear the cost

And loneliness does lead astray
My soul from the perfect way
No less than my arrogance
Or a self-righteous countenance

Saving can not be done
Through the soul alone
And outside help is required
In order to survive

But stubborness keeps at bay
All those who come my way
With selfish glory seek
My own excuses speak

And the world alone I roam
Searching for that what is lost
Hoping to find a home
Of which I can afford the cost.

posted by Pacer 8/29/2001

Rationality Upon Irrationality Upon A Self

I am lonely and horny at the same time
And both of these can not reconcile
With the thoughts of my right mind
And instead conpsire
Irrationality to rationality suppress.

posted by Pacer 8/29/2001

Tuesday, August 28, 2001

Illusions and Dreams

Framed against the garden sky
There she sat as I walked by
Her image caused hearts to beat
As through the path moved my feet
Dreams populated the air
And thoughts of love everywhere
Broke like waves o'er our heads,
As reason already fled
From the minds of men present
And the people came and went
While a second turned more
Into hours, and before
The world, turned by in my eyes
Our hist'ry began to fly
Through illusion's plane of life
Bringing my brain to great strife
And with an abrupt halt
I continued walking.

posted by Pacer 8/28/2001

Monday, August 27, 2001

Walls

The light dances gently upon the leaves of the trees
And the lights twinkle in the deep dark sky
And somewhere far away someone watches you and I
As we wander through this maze called life
And bump into wall after wall
And perhaps one day we'll prove
That there is a thing called love.

posted by Pacer 8/27/2001

Sunday, August 26, 2001

Too Much

I have seen a lot of things in my life. Probably too much. Many times I find myself wishing memories could simply disapear -- thinking my life would be simpler if they did; or at least less painful.

One thing I have seen is God move through people. I have witnessed it first hand and, to be honest, I want it. Huey Lewis and the News have a song that goes "I want a new drug" and goes on to outline what this drug should do. He outlines the ultimate drug with no side-effects and a long lasting effect.

Huey described God. God is the ultimate drug, and I have seen him in others. I have seen other drugs in work, most if not all of the drugs currently on the market, and none can come close to the kind of effect God has in the lives of the few I have seen really use him.

So how do you get this drug? I have no bluidy clue. I grew up going to church, visiting bible school, going to summer Vacation Bible Schools, and I still have no clue. Well, perhaps I have some clues. For instance: All your pride, your ego, your vanity has to go out the window and you have to submit to Jesus Christ. Yea, I've bet most of you have heard that too. Have you ever thought about it, though?

If I know this, why can't I come to God, you may ask? I am far fro mthe "follow the crowd" type, and I am stubborn as hell. I wouldn't submit to anyone. Hell, the closest I come is a bastardized form of submission in the way my romantic relationships form, but even that is not really submission.

Most people I know gloss over that bolded phrase above. Hell, I did and do alot as well. It is easier than really thinking about what it means. You have to submit to Jesus Christ. Submit!

Heavens, I don't even know if I know how to submit. Submission..... Oh, but that's not all. It gets better.

You have to love God and pine for him as you pine for your lover. Now, people usually ignore this phrase as well. I mean, it is kind of sick thinking of longing for God as you long for your lover, isn't it? That's because most people associate lover with sex. And then they feel real weird even imagining thinking of God in a sexual manner.

Love is not sex. Hell, I wish it was sometimes. Sex is a lot easier than love.

I want this new drug. I want to be saved from myself. I want this pain to all go away. But time and time again I turn not towards God but towards the World, towards the Flesh, and towards Sin and Corruption. I can not save myself. I only wish God would somehow knock me over the head and do it for me.

Many people reading this may not believe in God. Or may simply be estranged from him as I am. Folks, God loves all of us. All we have to do is find our way back to him, however that may be. I pray that all of you find him somehow, and find peace and love in your life.

posted by Pacer 8/26/2001

Ourselves

The answers to the soul are not found in the flesh.
This is an error most people make; this is why we have drug addicts, alcoholics, nymphomaniacs, and all of the other vices found in the world.
The flesh is weak and flawed. The question is if our souls can be strong enough to resist its temptations.
There is a narrow path that is rocky, looking like a difficult climb, on a mountain. And then there is a wider path, smoothed and pleasant. While the second seems to be the easier of the two, more perils lie upon it than on the first.
People naturally gravitate towards the second, as do I. God please save us from ourselves.

posted by Pacer 8/26/2001

Tuesday, August 21, 2001

Stars

Like broken glass which glitters in the noonday's sun
The stars unfold upon the sky in a blanket of light
With shafts piercing here and there into my skin
And my conscience bores into my soul awakening
Black things hidden behind walls for no one to ever see.

posted by Pacer 8/21/2001

Illusions

And her hair lays in my hands
While my love unfolds in her eye
And no one can understand
The words between her and I.

posted by Pacer 8/21/2001

Blank Book

My fingers run gently along the curves of the book
While I whisper to it with my pen
And the pages unfold to me with delicacy
As I make my mark indelibly
And along the frozen wastes of time
I mar its surface with my rhyme
No longer the same as before
I have changed it forevermore.

posted by Pacer 8/21/2001

Playful Gusts

The wind sweeps by me
And tickles the leaves on the trees
While dancing with the sand on the ground
It playfully picks up a small stone
And then drops the surprised rock
While breaking from the main path to
Spin and spin some dust into a devil
And I watch and think of Beauty.

posted by Pacer 8/21/2001

Monday, August 20, 2001

A Shallow Pond

Beauty is radiated from within
While ugliness is radiated from without
And all the while I smile
And the beauty fades and lets the ugly out.

posted by Pacer 8/20/2001

Sunday, August 19, 2001

Violins

On my bed sits a bear
Who was sent long ago by a friend.

And this bear is my confident
My shelter in times of pain
And my comfort at night.

It is a substitute for a girl
And a poor one at that
But at least I have something
And there is nothing wrong with that.

Beside the bear is a rabbit.
I have them there out of habit
And memories of a girl gone by
And the moments we spent
For the most part in happiness.

And in my head violins play
And images swirl and form
With my friend far away
Who would often say
"These two fingers here
Play the world's saddest song
All the while long
On the smallest violin
Conceived ever by man.

And day after day I dream
Of happiness and what it might be
And the world rolls by
In the blink of an eye
Nothing is left but my sadness.

posted by Pacer 8/19/2001

Stars

I sit and watch the stars go by
Far up in the evening sky
And I dream of the times past
Moments that could never last
And all the world seems sad.

posted by Pacer 8/19/2001

Tuesday, August 14, 2001

Lonely

In the wee hours of the morning, when I am sleep deprived and the insomnia kick begins, I sometimes feel I have the greatest insight. While I can relate to the description of insomnia given in "Fight Club," a copy of a copy of a copy, my sensation is more of a zombie state. A lot of introspection.

My dormitory has a balcony on one side. I was making a restroom stop after trying to sleep for ten minutes when I thought it might be nice to go sit out there in the cold air. Maybe sleep there. Curl up into a ball and sleep. I might feel more comfortable there. Then it hit me.... I am one of those people that does not like being alone. I'm scared of it. That's why I do not want to go to sleep. I watch TV, do stuff online on the computer, all trying to force the illusion that I am not alone. As I was laying on my bed watching the super-late Saturday Night Live episodes on Comedy Central I kept thinking of just having someone there to hold and to hold me.

I do not think this problem was always so acute. Laying out on that porch, with the world around me, would, in my mind, let the world be with me. It was a comforting thought. But laying here in my room? It is not comforting.

I find myself more and more hating being alone and I try and compensate. Right now I have that empty "despair" feeling that you get in your chest. The one when your eyes well up and you kinda want to cry and feel bad for yourself. I want to let go of all my pain and hurt inside of me but I can not do it. I wish it could just float away.....

I hate being alone. I hate feeling lonely.

posted by Pacer 8/14/2001

Monday, August 13, 2001

May You Smile and Laugh

When I was young I was taught by various folks in the world in various roles that if you loved someone enough that would be all that mattered. What if you love that someone, but they do not love you? Depressing though. A depressing thought everyone has, or will, struggled with. What is love? I do not know. Frankly, I am scared of it. But like a moth to a flame I return, time and again. And I keep getting burnt. But was that really love? Or just an illusion?

I looked into a girls eyes once and felt love. And I saw love. At least, so I thought. I still think so. But sometimes I wonder. She feels so far away at this moment. Did I love her? Did she love me? Do I still love her?

I always think about her, and I always will. She is always in the back of my mind, if nothing else. Always. And I care about her deeply. But do I love her? Does that mean I love her?

Some people think that is sweet. I do not. Perhaps a bit pyscho, or unbalanced. I pray that God will guide me and I will account for myself with honor in this life through all of the battles each of us face everyday, inlcuding the one pertaining to her magnificent face.

Love is. And Love was. And Love will be. Always.

For now I am going to try and listen to music I feel fits my mood and try to discover who I truly am. May you smile and laugh.

posted by Pacer 8/13/2001

Sunday, August 12, 2001

Marbles

Thoughts fall like Marbles
From my brain as I think
Spilling onto the floor
In a disconnected mass
Bouncing back up a bit
In an attempt to come home
But none make it while I
Can hold none and They
All scatter away until
They hide under my furniture.

posted by Pacer 8/12/2001

Thoughts Falling

The clouds descend
Upon the sand
And the wind blows
The memories away
While the man
Stares at the stars
Wishing them to change.

Fate is foretold
Long ago.

The Ages were writ
Before our days
But the book is blank
For all to see.

Leaves are blown
By the wind
Like the sand on the beach
Or writings in a book.

posted by Pacer 8/12/2001

Needle

There are rhymes and are reasons
For the seasons and it's breazins
While the World gone by
In a split second of time
And a memory on a needle
With a fine pointing end
Which pricks at our minds
And we attempt to find
The golden key in the hay
Stacked upon our brain
But elusion is its art
While nothing can impart
The pain which we endure
Through all time's manure
Of our own creation.

posted by Pacer 8/12/2001

Friday, August 03, 2001

Broken

The world is fallen.
Everything is broken.
Things come undone.
Nothing lasts.
Everyone is alone.
No one is alone.

posted by Pacer 8/03/2001