Category: Poetry

“Don’t Stop Writing”


This phrase to me has a lot of significance. My friend, Kami made this wood burned plaque for me by request (she is raising money for her missions trips, one way being wood burnings. Let me know if you want her info to support her and get some awesome art!) and I asked for this message because it has become more than an encouragement to me and has become a mandate.

Let me back up some few years ago. I always enjoyed writing, always disliked reading. I don’t understand it either, but it happened! I would as a child sing songs of my own creation and forget them. If only I could go back and write down all those silly and serious songs, I would fill a book. 

I wrote for school and randomly other stuff, but was mostly inspired to write by an artist, Levi the Poet and others that performed their poetry along with musicians or sound tracks. I was also inspired by different bands and song writers, journals from people long dead and some teachers in school, including my mother.

Somewhere around my 10th grade year, I started writing poetry, but always just for girls I liked. I also tried to start a band that was a flop around that time, but it wasn’t until my senior year where I really started to break out in creativity and write music with my banjo and voice and poems that all were more personal and relatable and introspective and outward viewing as well. Much of my work now a days resembles this style, with verious word pictures and such, and it has all grown from a place of growing passion, longing for authenticity, and mostly just drive to write. That drive came from a realization that as I write, I learn more of myself.

Don’t Stop Writing!

For about one year, I was writing and sharing my work. After hearing it for the first time, probably 10-15 people, maybe more said that quote to me before they said anything else. I quickly realized that that wasn’t a normal response since after that year, I haven’t heard it since. The reason I think that it is significant is because I believe God was encouraging me through his people to not stop writing.

Through the past few years, I have found that when I am actively writing, if it be journal, poetry, music or this blog, I have a deeper understanding in everything I do because I am able to process everything through words on a page (or a screen) and it is my outlet and platform I’ve been able to share love, share encouragement, friendship and Jesus. 

What does this mean for you as the reader? 

Don’t Stop ______!

You can’t give up. If it’s writing, don’t Stop Writing. If it’s loving, don’t stop loving. If it’s serving in some way, don’t stop. 

I believe we all have passions and giftings that are from our creator, and when you find them, use them! If you’re already a follower of Jesus, give your desires and gifts to him and he will bless you with pure intentions and purity in your gifts and passions!

Also, if you’re like me, WRITE! You can’t afford not to at least write something. If you can, write down your thoughts, feelings, prayers, etc. as often as you can without going overboard. You will learn more about yourself, more about how your Creator thinks of you and be able to follow the progress as you grow and learn and age. 

If you’re like me, “Don’t stop writing!”

Moon

I’ve looked to the moon and I’ve tried to fully understand how it works.At times it hides it’s loom, but it has the power to bring light to the dark.

When it’s setting the mood, or accompanying the stars, it’s simply not trying at all.
Now imagine with me for a moment that the moon started to try

That it was no longer mindless, that the man there of would wake and strive. 

He would shine for goodness and hide his face from evil. 

That he would bring peace and rest to parents and children equal.

That each morning, he would bow there to the sun. 
Let us not forget that the moon is just a reflection of the sun.

The sun is the center of the solar system, 

But the moon serves earth and the sun all at once. 

When earth is filled with darkness, the moon gives a hint of what the sun has to show

Giving credit each morning to the one who gave the glow. 

Because this he knows, without light he is nothing. 

Without love, we are nothing. 

What will it take for us to serve like the moon. 
10/15

Dear Artist 

Dear artist, your expression is far more beautiful then any word, or even a thousand could express. As you create, wether it be with words, pottery, instrument or paint, you move into a place that others can enjoy and find a way to relate. Even though their minds are practical, they can escape into the art your mind and body join together to make.

Oh writers, your mind is filled with wonderful stories or essays or poetry or plays. Creations of literary art, that express how humanity was, should be or never could portray.Your diligence to detail and language is amazing, enjoying each word, and letting every one of them impact your life’s framing.

And to you, photographer, the artist of the century. The one who captures beauty in the moments many others leave unseen or strictly in their memory. Your eyes are tuned to a focus not even your camera can always capture, but if you can help it, it will not go un-captured.
And fashion enthusiasts and creators, as you mix and match, as you rip apart and reattach, as you discover or uncover, you put yourself into each inch that covers the canvas also known as your body. 
But artists of every form! Weather you enjoy the creation or stand in awe as your eyes and ears follow them, do not loose your humanity! Do not let your personality be so impacted that your heart can’t feel normalcy. I’ve seen it and felt it, and it changes your perspective if you step back and look at the path you’ve entered. 

Let your art be your expression, not your identity. If your art form was detached from you, would you be more then a corps? You see, Sometimes our art becomes our drugs that hide our insecurities, but the ironic part is, sometimes it just heightens them until all we seek is the perfect song that people will sing, the perfect picture that will get the most likes on the phone screen, read the right book that will make you forget your own pain, or wear the right thing to make people turn their heads to see. 

Let your identity be found in your laughter, your smile, your compassion and your love. Let it be found in your friendships you invest in, your joy and your hugs. 
Connect with reality, people, nature and the creator of it all and let your art be a pure expression of your life. Not the other way around. 
Artist, if we put a price tag on our art and our soul, to be sold to a buyer, which price tag would be higher? 
11/27/15

Withdrawal 

My mind can not stop thinking of it. 

My heart longs for it.

My body craves it.

My mind doesn’t want it.

My heart longs to not long for it.

My body craves to not crave it. 
The cycle continues. 

It builds up, it wears down.

Each time it builds up, it builds up higher. 

Each time it wears down, it never returns to the low it once was.

I don’t get it.

After a while one of two thigs happen:

It gets easier <—–> I give in.

If it gets easier, there is freedom. There is peace.

If I give in, there is shame. There is relief.

Withdrawal sucks.

The pain I can’t explain, but I know there’s escape. 

It is only found through strength, but sometimes, I’m weak in faith.

Freedom has nothing to do with fate.

It doesn’t just happen and there’s no easy way. 

So as I crave, I will pray.

 I will try my hardest to hold onto faith, 

Ask God for more strength so I can stay,

Not to turn to betray. 


May the cycle not have the last words. 

May freedom and redemption win.

May my heart stay steadfast.

May Christ Jesus have the last words. 

Hopeful Romantic

I’m a hopeful romantic. I watch movies on love and I’ve watched pornography. Pornography has nothing on the love stories. I don’t want anything shy of true love, because when I was young, I dreamed of it too. Sex was not what I longed for. I longed to lay arm in arm with my lover and spend time with my lover. I dreamed to fight for my lover and sacrifice for my lover. 
When I was young, snuggling was my favorite thing and I never wanted anyone to feel sad or alone or anything like that. Not even my stuffed animals were safe from my comforting arms and neither was my mom. 

My tiny arms would grab ahold of anyone if they wanted or not. I felt lonelier then ever, so I did all I could to keep myself on everyone to see we wouldn’t fall apart. But words pierced like knives and as I spread my arms wide, I found myself lunging into them heart first. 

I’ve loved so many girls that I could loose track if I didn’t connect myself to them so deeply. I don’t know how I stretched my heart so wide through texts. Although my phone was taken away from me, it couldn’t stop me from trying to create love in places love would never be. 

From girl to girl and picture to picture, love started distorting down to every pixel. I’ve never lost my heart for love, but years of distortion and restoring and destroying and relearning, my heart is a jumbled mess. 

I want true love and nothing short of that. My heart knows that! My body doesn’t mind settling for a picture or video on the screen, but my heart beats louder and stronger and I don’t want any more sight of that distortion, but my heart is still soft, yet is shaped like a stone. It wants to shake off every lie it has been told but it looks like a rock and believes it’s hard and cold, even though it can feel the blood flow. It can hear the cry of love that’s untainted. 

I want to love people. I want to love Jesus. I want to have a lover. I want to be a lover. 

I’m far more fragile then I would like to admit, but I pray to God he will strengthen and renew me each and every day. I’m pushing through the grit and I’m pushing through the stones. I want so badly to be free. This time, there is freedom. I can feel it in my bones.

I’m a hopeful romantic and this is just how it goes. Healing is a process, and I’ll sing every wrong note until I sing it right or the trumpet blows. That’s just how it goes.

My Moment is Now

(This photo was taken on September 5, 2016, around the time this poem was written.)

My purpose is not a climax, it’s fulfilled moment by moment.

I great an old couple with tears in their eyes. 

Not tears of sadness, but terror I surmise.

Not from death or fright. 

Not from anything other than a broken pipe. 

An easy fix for a plumber,

But to them, my partner and I, this day, are saviors.  
My purpose is not a climax, it’s fulfilled moment by moment.
I pull up to my church. 

My mission is to run the soundboard, but first,

I’ll turn down my music.

I’ll collect my composure,

Because it is Tuesday, and it came as a surprise.

Funerals are never planned and no eye is dry.

Though I’d rather help with a wedding celebration,

I’ll help to celebrate an older woman passing into greater life.
My purpose is not a climax, it’s fulfilled moment by moment.
It’s Monday night, so I rush home from work.

I join friends in the gym,

But not for sports, but intercession.

From 16 to 80 and beyond, 

We join in prayer, worship and communion.

Sometimes creating heavenly melodies,

Yet often, just a joyful noise. 
My purpose is not a climax, it’s fulfilled moment by moment.
I’m lying in bed, struggling with thoughts pulling me toward sin

I resist, and cry out to my Lord Jesus,

The author and finisher working from within. 

It’s suffering that leads to endurance, 

That leads to character and hope.

So in this season, 

My faith will be my reason

And my God will be my portion. 
My purpose is not a climax, it’s fulfilled moment by moment.
And I’m writing a poem,

Starting to understand,

Trying not to boast in anything I am,

Sifting through truth, lies, feelings and emotions, 

Because I thought when I was young, 

I would get there.
Wherever there is, I don’t know,

But what I do know is that my creator

Didn’t create me to achieve something big,

But in the meantime, just exist,

Or once I’m done, 

Dry up and make room for the next one.
My purpose and yours are found in moments. 

The dull and the amazing,

The filling and the emptying.

I wish to never again glorify the exciting

And demonize the testing. 
Today, I grab onto my moment. 

It is the only thing I can actually grasp. 

My purpose is now.
August 27, 2016