~The Desert~

lifeisworth

02/24/04

Out to the desert
he brought me stained and sure
he’d forgive
He rained me in diamond dust
and promises assumed
extracted from his birthright
that he’d be strong and sure of himself
out in the desert
He brought me helping
promising I’d never do that again
and I’d be different than I am
and I was
But he never forgot
and who could blame him?
Me?
I was different, you know.
I was as whole as baby swiss
while he was away
a lot better, I’d say
than before I came to wed
and I thought by
joining him in hell
I’d be forgiven
I thought by needing no sign
I’d be no more and no less
the lamb
I thought by needing nothing
I’d be no whore to confess
Just
the lamb I am
and while somehow I know
I am all that
no one else
I’ve chosen with agrees
I thought I could leave
and stay at the same time
I thought hell had had enough of me
I thought my people had only one face
a pair balls to match
And I never thought
I’d have to walk on silk-spun eggshells
wary of the weight AND the mud
at the same time
Wary of keeping counsel with small idiots
who treat my love like a trampoline
I came to the desert
because I thought its nuclear arms
would comfort me.
That I’d be Doris Day
Vacuuming in high heels
experiencing his daily deconstruction.
But he always played by himself.
I never knew how alone he was
and wants to stay.
It’s why I’m here.

JDE-PJ

this is one of the best things I have read here.

I like it a lot my friend!

Being Enlightened

Me too!!!!!!!!!

Love it, lifeisworth!

Good to see you out and about!

lifeisworth

bagh... thanks you guys

bambi girl

wow, that is so good.....so absorbing, i had to read it all, and wanted to read it all fast, but slow at the same time to take it all in....


good to see you back around again!!

lifeisworth

heya bambi girl !?!


it's nice to *see* you too


thanks, too, btw ~ i like things that read fast...

john girl

so much~

FinsburyParkCarrots

Good to see you!

lifeisworth

~Not Buying It~

Why are people so afraid to tell the truth? Why, generally speaking, when hurt shines through dead iced eyes like neon lights on Saturday nights, do people try to outshine it with smiles or silence? (Or a bad attitude? Tinkering fear like pink ribbons and lavendar tea at Rennaisance.)

His insults fall on my ears like happy rain because when I am supposed to be afraid, I know there is nothing to fear. I know the sin haunts him. I know growth and compassion have left the building like Elvis did so long ago. "Don't be cruel" on his snipped lips, Last Exits on his shaky hips. "Uh that's one for the Money" two for the go, three to get heady and four to ahhh... get the fuck out of here.

I'm leaving, I'm leaving.

I am going to die someday. My biggest delight in faith is that in heaven, which is actually just like earth without the fear, people will tell the truth. People wont need to own each other and people will stolidly understand they are forgiven.... HA! Forgiven. All the shame your mothers taught you will be given wings to fly out the window and finally... you wont lack love and you wont have to lie to get it. And I wont have to hide my light anymore. I wont have to wear my forgiveness like an albatross or a cross and get whipped for it.


There is nobody out there quite like me, but we'll see, wont we?

(Please God, if you can hear me... I need and elbow to lock in mine... a commrade, if you will, so that I can stay unjaded and continue these insane beliefs about love.)

Being Enlightened

Originally posted by lifeisworth
~Not Buying It~

Why are people so afraid to tell the truth? Why, generally speaking, when hurt shines through dead iced eyes like neon lights on Saturday nights, do people try to outshine it with smiles or silence? (Or a bad attitude? Tinkering fear like pink ribbons and lavendar tea at Rennaisance.)

His insults fall on my ears like happy rain because when I am supposed to be afraid, I know there is nothing to fear. I know the sin haunts him. I know growth and compassion have left the building like Elvis did so long ago. "Don't be cruel" on his snipped lips, Last Exits on his shaky hips. "Uh that's one for the Money" two for the go, three to get heady and four to ahhh... get the fuck out of here.

I'm leaving, I'm leaving.

I am going to die someday. My biggest delight in faith is that in heaven, which is actually just like earth without the fear, people will tell the truth. People wont need to own each other and people will stolidly understand they are forgiven.... HA! Forgiven. All the shame your mothers taught you will be given wings to fly out the window and finally... you wont lack love and you wont have to lie to get it. And I wont have to hide my light anymore. I wont have to wear my forgiveness like an albatross or a cross and get whipped for it.


There is nobody out there quite like me, but we'll see, wont we?

(Please God, if you can hear me... I need and elbow to lock in mine... a commrade, if you will, so that I can stay unjaded and continue these insane beliefs about love.)

Babe! I so feel for ya! And I wonder the same about people. Why are they afraid to tell the truth? Why are they afraid to be good to eachother? Does wearing a mask of indifference or cruelty or those back-stabbing false smiles make one feel good?
I don't see how it can.

And lifeisworth!!!! LET YOUR LOVE LIGHT SHINE LIKE A BEACON IN THE DEEP DARK NIGHT!! LET IT SHINE ON AND ON AND ON AND OH SO BRIGHT!!!!! LOVE WILL FIND IT'S WAY INTO YOUR ARMS, INTO YOUR HEART!!!!!!! (It's the waiting that is the hardest part!!!!!)

Good luck and lots of love to you!

Yer Palli

ps. You are a little piece of heaven on earth, my friend! Please don't let your light grow dim!!!!!

lifeisworth

my light has nothing to do with me
it shines whether i care or not

so get your sunglasses
turn and join the fleshy masses

setaside2

we never listen to the voice inside eh?

I try i try...

well well if lifeisworth isn't raining down with a porridge of wondrous prose.

I loved not buying it. loved it. and I stand, I think, at times, in that selfsame desert of your prose. Although there are many times when I am the individual who is alone and wants to remain so, no matter how badly I need other people.

the poems of anger and of betrayal and of bitterness... there is a strength to write them and a voice to scream them aloud.

may your voice grow in strength and your hands not tremble as the winds grow and the sandstorm approaches.

the rains will follow. and a season of unheralded growth is nigh.

stand your ground for as long as you can for when you are ready to leave you will always have your footprints to look at, and remember that THIS was where you stood and wept over yourself and your love and your faith and that it was really to the upper left that the view was so much better...

funny how the tears dry up when you have to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

much love to you lifeisworth. and much luck. the vibes are sent and they are in the key of E like any good blues song... but funny how so many rock and rollers use it too.

:(

be well my dear

seta

lifeisworth

¿Soy terminado no exactamente yo chillar, yo soy?


muchas gracias senior
con mucho mehor


i feel like arwyn somedays...

lifeisworth

this is an old one...

He likes all the pretty things
the shiny things up in the sky
not the spaces in between
some ninety-nine percent of me
sometimes not often
still uglier than sin
he wins
to set me out in it
the doghouse now
my every friend
forget sweet nothingness remembered
promises upon my ear
promises once held me fast
but, little girl, now
nothing lasts
so wash your face
save the sores
that stupid lipstick
you once wore
wash the face
again once more
go change the dress
that i once tore
make yourself presentable
change the sheets
bitch, lay down

FinsburyParkCarrots

Not sure why, but I hear in this a trace of this song I wrote..oh...back in 1993

How many times might I ask you to save me, here?
I'm left all alone to go traipsing 'round Eldon Square,
Down Grainger Street, passing the pidgeons (that group and call out
from the ledges of buildings; shitting right down on my feet).
I've been here forever, sitting alone at the bar
In Nelly's, each night-after-night with my Kilkenny beer:
I know it's far,
I know it's far:
But could you make it one day, my dear?

I could not really expect you to make it here
for Holmeside and Hendon, the stares and the fists and the fear
But I can't keep forever, boarding the Newcastle train
from Wearside each day, in hope of relieving the brain
of a bloodred night sky with no stars, and a 10x8 room
with a window that's jammed. God, I hate to pull anyone's arm -
I know it's far,
I KNOW it's far
But could you make it one day, my dear?

I know it's far
I know it's far:
But could you make it one day, my dear?

lifeisworth

i can see that, finsbury... a need not felt deserved, an asking for something? a bit of blame, maybe? mine is just that essence of why i have to be perfect, and when i am, will i be used anyway...

i'm glad i'm not there anymore

lifeisworth

~Where are You~

Save what's written for what's spoken
My composed ability broken
Repairable, yet put away
Boxed up, stacked amongst the fray
War heads only disconnected
All their power ne'er affected

Sweet Jesus, come and lay with me
for one day of eternity
wash my feet, dry the years
whisper something in my ear

Unto thee
I give
I give