My Return.

It’s been a long time coming

Since my new return.

It’s been a long while craving,

ignoring every yearn.

A focus on what’s of Him

not on that of Earth

To press onwards and just win

a righteous kind of mirth.

Deny myself the pleasure

of adding to my sense of self,

I learned to put the measure

of “me” back on the bookshelf.

I.D. myself on what I believe

Listen to the story that I now weave –

it wasn’t easy quitting it

but I found myself outwitting it.

I found some new delights in life

to dream of fresh and new insights.

Heard stories louder than I had before

Better view on things to not ignore.

I learned the meaning of truth and love

and enjoyed the views of the stars above.

Lord, I lost sight of Your majesty,

To ignore You would be a travesty.

Bring me back to You I plead,

This return is exactly what I did need.



Today is the day that I received 100 total likes on my WordPress site.  I’d like to start off by thanking all of my readers who do take the few seconds to press that “Like” button, and I’m even more grateful to those who take the extra few seconds to leave behind thoughtful comments.  My readers have no idea how much I appreciate the fact that my works leave some vestige of an impact upon their lives.

As I thought more about the fact that my ramblings and shredded thoughts have garnered 100 likes, I think about how the work that each person creates has the capacity to impact the lives of those around him.  Although we all hail from different spectrums of experience, we nevertheless contribute to the growing continuum of feeling and expression amongst humans.  Some of us have more idealistic tendencies while others of us express the world directly as we experience it.  No matter the form, the function remains the same across the board; experiences find a way to make themselves ubiquitous to a variety of people.

Behind each person is a story, and there lies within that story the complexity of that individual.  How we perceive and enjoy things reflects what is important to us and what we notice first and foremost when encountering new circumstances.  Every work can be analyzed in an infinitely large number of ways, but how we approach the work and in which direction we take it is often more subjective than we might think.  From those 100 likes, it’s safe to say that each reader has his own idiosyncrasies that are exhibited from what he enjoyed in my piece alone, not to mention the various pieces he himself might have written or found elsewhere.  The 100 likes started off as a statistic, but the more I thought about it, the more meaningful it became.  It turned out to be 100 stories intermingled with a story that I told, making the story richer not by any virtue of its own, but by the virtue of the readers putting value into the words that I sculpted.

Finally Done.

Written during finals week, but not published in time. 3/22/13

I’m not going to lie, it definitely was not a good experience taking finals in college while being pretty sick.  The coughing, the tissues, the complete lack of energy were all a bit much to deal with in tandem with having to study for something that would count for a large part of my grade.  However, after finishing with finals, I have to say that I’m really thankful to the Lord for getting me through it, not only because of how I dealt with being sick, but also for the little things that He helped me appreciate through my sickness.

Most times, when people are sick, they’re irritable and uncomfortable.  I was no different.  However, when the going got tough, there was always a sense of peace in my heart.  I definitely moaned and groaned – just ask my roommate.  But there was an emptiness to the moaning and groaning; I never actually felt any actual discomfort that had an overbearing on my living.

People were also very caring, wishing me the best and praying for me.  I realized that we always seem to take for granted just how many people are praying for us and keeping us in their thoughts.  It was touching to see how deeply people did care, further strengthening my love for the Body and each of the members in the Body.  It reflects a similar situation with someone that I know; you never know who’s working behind the scenes to show their love for you and pray for the best for you.  I’m starting to get drowsy, so I’ll end my incoherence here, but praise the Lord that I’m done with finals!

Finals Weak.

Poem I wrote during finals week but couldn’t publish in time. 3/19/13.

A whoop from lungs, guffaw of phlegm

Sniffling become the room’s anthem.

Congestion reigns supreme today

Finals soon, want to hit the hay.

And lay there for days, just to recover

from this sickness and dream of another

time where illness and pain were forgotten.

Have I hit rock bottom? Or just become rotten

in this present age where drugs are used

And abused when they previously sore throats soothed.

Tissues everywhere, like earth’s snow blanket

I blew my nose, crumpled it up, shot, and sank it.

Oh, what a position to try and audition

for success on a test when my health has gone fishin’!

As I work up a sweat alone at the gym,

Muster up my strength and put my faith in Him.

Cajé, Day One.

“Your friend’s got a cool jacket.”

The man in the white hoodie with a hat propped over his hood looked at his friend in the San Francisco Giants ball cap and grey cardigan covering a blue dress shirt, the same person who gave the compliment.

“What? Oh…she’s just a colleague, she’s friendly though.”

Ball cap smirked at the witty remark, white, Apple earplugs in place, yet not drowning out much noise as the two participated in a short back and forth.  White hoodie blew out cigarette smoke while the big Asian across did the same.  There wasn’t a sign in place that outlawed them, and they were content to fill their lungs with noxious fumes as they engaged in a growing social exchange.  The skid of skateboard wheels chafing asphalt prompted them to look off in a distance, where a lone rider sped across the lot, honing his moves in solitude, with hood up.  It seems like everyone was doing something to cover his head, or perhaps it was because of the impending chill that was descending upon the area.

“Excuse me, do you know the Internet password?”

Another Asian wearing a flannel and cargo shorts asked the bearded man behind him, to which he got the response, “Yeah, it’s welcome back – all one word.”  Flannel thanked the bearded man and proceeded to type away at his computer, a Macbook Air in a sea of Apple products.

The neon “OPEN” sign glared dully out at the customers as hanging red bulbs seemed suspended on absolutely nothing.  The whooshing of cars forever remained a part of the background, along with the amplified conversations.

“I’m a man!”

The blonde haired girl that was addressed wrinkled her nose.

“Go inside and get the spot!”

A couple of girls walked out of the store, and were greeted by happenstance by a mutual friend of theirs.  Two of them engaged in animated conversation, while the third excluded herself via technology and the greater allure of whatever was on her cellphone.  They left after a while of exchanging pleasantries and catching up on the stories of a shared, drunken night they had.

A man and a woman gave a public display of affection.  Their sandwich soon dropped on the ground from a brown paper sack.

Be Careful.

Treading a tightrope spread in the sky,

Make a mistake, you might slip and die.

But while you’re walking, try and consider

the highlights of life; try not to be bitter.

The smiles you’ve shared with a friend or three

Dreaming great dreams of the best you could be.

A youthful love, now come and gone

Burying deep a soft, mellow song.

Watch out, don’t slip – she sees you not

No matter the thoughts and the plans you have wrought.

Analysis, the bane of true love

Diving like eagles, choking the dove.

Should God create a plan for the two

Then you will see that the love is most true.

Until that consent divine is displayed,

Keep your heart on God, don’t be dismayed.

Examine yourself, keep balanced the line

God has claimed you, saying, “You’re mine.”

Saving from death by perilous plunge,

Redeeming our life with His Son’s great lunge.

From Heaven to Earth, descended alone

In human form came, in reverence prone.

Bowing to His Father’s pure will

Giving us the Holy Spirit to fill.

We’ve reached the end of dangerous course

Shouts of praise ringing, our voices are hoarse.

With delicate ease, we jump to skyscrapers

Reading with wisdom God’s Word in thin papers.

Be ever on guard, should you tilt and fall

God rescues not just us,

But all.

Work for It.

When we’re tired, there are often multiple variations of it.  The lethargy that comes from a lack of rest is by no means a positive lack of energy.  The exhaustion that comes from the exertion of effort, however, is.

WIth the exhaustion that is the fruit of hard labor, there is a kind of painful gratification in it. Perhaps it’s because of the hope knowing that the soreness of the workout, the sweat drops that fell to the ground, and the pant of knowing that drawing the next breath is as tiring as moving itself will all improve us physically and strengthen our mind.  The hard work we pour into bettering ourselves is only reflected by the outcome that we don’t see just yet, but desire to see.

Yet how often are our expectations not met, and feelings of desperation and futility start setting in?  Then it just feels like the pain and suffering that we endured has served no purpose whatsoever.  This is a very possible result of human effort.  However, lately I’ve been pondering the results of God’s effort and seeing how very different the results can be.  When God puts effort into something, he doesn’t have a myopic sense of outcome – that is to say, God already knows the outcome when He is working and knows the full episode that is played out.  If we believe in this fact that He has already done everything, then our frustration with present setbacks is only an expression of a lack of faith.  But even in our unwarranted lack of faith, He is faithful to show grace and reveal His plan gradually so that we see how mysterious His ways are, and how beautiful His design is.  It hurts for the present, but the future outcome is already secure because He has made it so.

1 Thessalonians 5:24: He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.

Art in Destruction.

Destruction isn’t always bad.  It’s usually what precedes or succeeds the word itself that gives it the negative connotation that it has.  Destruction, when alone, simply means the removal of something, but because the word has an intrinsic vigor to it, it creates a much more connotatively descriptive notion of that removal.

When we consider destruction in nature, we might think of something like a tornado.  It destroys homes, can take lives, and causes general panic across the nation.  However, the sheer amount of force and the majesty of the tornado is a force to be reckoned with.  Art is a way of expressing oneself, and in the case of the tornado, it does a fairly good job of it, embodying fury and wrath in a singularly awe-inducing event.  The velocity of the rotation and the wreckage left behind are, in a way, a kind of physical catharsis for all the pent up destruction.

Emotionally, destruction is an art as well.  There is a kind of destruction that is necessary in creating boundaries, but there is an art to it.  It’s not fair to either person to have to endure the pain of a blunt, straightforward rejection, but there is a weaving and many nuances that can help the destruction of any false hope seem less intense.  Knowing when to say certain things and when to make boundaries clear is the pinnacle of excellence in emotional destruction.

All told, destruction is definitely an art. I’m far too tired to put properly into words what I feel about it, but I shall end with this: when discussing destruction, some are artists; others are sculptors.


What Can I Do Now?

Sadness and regret.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Forget about all the rest.

Just waiting for the caress.

A heart that bleeds slow,

Wishing to un-know

the pain it tries to stow.

Longing to let go.

Actions destroyed

and guilt fresh spilt,

A friend’s hand was on

the killer’s hilt.

Not your fault, they said.

As they gathered, breaking bread.

Not your fault, they said.

His heart dropped like lead.

Not your fault, they said.

Why did it happen, and how?

Not your fault, they said.

What can I do now?

What can I do now?

What can I do now?

Pride Comes Before a Fall.

The title is so true it hurt. Literally.  After misjudging the height of a curb next to the bike path, I ate it sooo hard.  Prior to this, I was bragging to my basketball team captain that he wouldn’t be able to tailgate me if he tried because I’d be so far ahead.  Even though I was joking, the joke was on me when I was lying on my side, confused as to how I came to that predicament.

At night, my vision is completely shot, so I was already in a bad spot when I decided to bike at night on some dirt road area.  As I approached the actual bike path, I realized after skidding along it that it was much higher than anticipated.  I felt the bike tip over on one side and remembered thinking, “Oh, shucks…” and then slamming into the ground on my right side.

After dusting myself off, I finished the course and got to Kogilicious.  Upon closer inspection under the light, I realized that my clothes weren’t even as dirty as I thought – in fact, I had barely a scratch.  I felt like I was going to be sore the next day, but today is that next day and the only pain I feel is a sore right butt cheek.  I realized in this ironic moment that God was showing me about pride; even though I was only jokingly boasting, the situation can be juxtaposed to past and future instances of my life, and I’m glad that He protected me from serious harm while teaching me.