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 Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Vivid Remembrance
It's a slow kind of feeling
a sinking, a falling
While memories are rising
to the top of my mind
Engulfing experience
still with me, returning
In a moment amazing
now feels bittersweet
Close my eyes and open my heart
imagine a dream once true
Smile, breath in, reality, sigh
eyelids open to glassy and dim
Dwelling there changes nothing here
useless thoughts that complicate
Let it go, trying, no
some heartstrings can't be cut
posted by Erik 3:55 PM
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
Hey folks, here's some new stuff that's actually old. Written about a year ago, I guess. By the way, I sleep fine now. On with the poetry!
Insomnia
Come sleep, which hath evaded me
for hours every night this week
Come sleep, and silence senseless thoughts
that rattle in my head
Come sleep, cacoon me in your dreams
sewn together with tattered seams
Come sleep, that comes on little feet
creep in my head and burrow deep
Come sleep, and help me bid my time
till morning when the new day dawns
Come sleep, quickly! I cannot bear
this long insomniacs nightmare
Come sleep, carry me off far
far and far away from here
Come sleep, fill my mind with fog
and settle all my hopes and fears
posted by Erik 9:03 PM
Monday, March 03, 2003
Life Without Limits
I have unreachable goals, you know
At least that's what they tell me
That obstacles I won't see
Will keep me unfulfilled
Though they may scorn my soaring dreams
Wild hearts will not be broken
And this wild heart has spoken
I'll not live unfulfilled
My whole life long I've known this thing:
My own time to shine would come.
My bright moment in the sun
Won't keep my unfulfilled
Today I find my time is now
To rise up high on eagles wings
To take a stand for noble things
No longer unfulfilled
So dream on, my soul, dream high, dream wide
Reach for the impossible
Because I know I'm able
To finally live fulfilled
posted by Erik 10:38 PM
For Valentines day 2003....
My Mother’s Hands
When I was born
It was my mother’s hands that held me
When I couldn’t even crawl
It was my mother’s hands that fed me
When all I did was bawl
When I was a toddler
It was my mother’s hands that picked me up
When I would take a tumble
It was my mother’s hands I’d run to
With my clothes all in a jumble
When I was a young boy
It was my mother’s hands that made my lunch
And wrote “I love you” on a note
It was my mother’s hands that tied my shoes
And made me wear a coat
When I was a boy
It was my mother’s hands that healed me
When I was cut and bruised
It was my mother’s hands that dried my tears
Whenever I felt accused
When I was a teenager
It was my mother’s hands that gripped the seat
While she helped me learn to drive
It was my mother’s hands that held me back
From the crazy plans I’d connive
Now that I’m a young man
It’s my mother’s hands that still hold me close
And remind me I’m always her baby
It’s my mother’s hands I know will be there
For love no matter what my age be
posted by Erik 10:38 PM
Monday, February 10, 2003
Just pondering God one day, and I came up with this. It's a medium paced worship song. Hope you like it!
Mystery
The God of all creation
The one who hung the stars in place
He rules o'er every nation
but He will let me see His face
Chorus:
The mystery of my Lord I will always seek
That though you reign in rightousness, you help me when I'm weak
Oh Lord you're high and mighty
But you're the lover of my soul
And your mystery...is wonderful to me
The Lord, oh He is holy
And He, He cannot be made small
For He, for He is sovereign
But Lord, you hear me when I call
posted by Erik 9:21 PM
Wednesday, November 06, 2002
Writting in class....once again! I could give you a long story about where my inspiration for this poem came from, but I'd rather let you, the reader, try to figure it out. I do have to say this poem says a lot about who I am if you read between the lines. Just one last note, the girl in the story is fictional, I made her up from a combination of several women I've known. Anyways, here goes:
Beautiful
She doubts the gaze that catches her eye
He doesn’t mean that look, she sighs
The pain of past romance brings her a sniffle
And she doesn’t even know she’s beautiful
Oh once upon a far distant time
A little girl danced with eyes that had shine
But that girl got hurt and was played the fool
And she doesn’t even know she’s beautiful
Now she’s a bird looking into the sky
Afraid to step out, step off, and fly
She feels so much as her desires pull
And she doesn’t even know she’s beautiful
Excuse me miss, may I rescue you?
You seem so lost, alone, and confused
Can I make you happy, heal your soul?
I’ll make you see, you’re beautiful
posted by Erik 12:16 PM
Sunday, September 29, 2002
This is another bit of scribbling I did in class. This time, it was MA 121. Ah calculus, nothing makes me want to pay attention LESS. This is just the chorus for a song I hope to finish soon. I'm adding some lines ( ---- )where the words are sung longer, and insert thingees( ^ ) where the words are short and stacatto. But back to the song. It's about leaving friends and coming to grips with the fact that nothing will ever be the same with my old friends. Here goes:
Drifting
Chorus
And we're drifting-----
In the ocean's tossing waves
And we're drifting-----
Both going seperate ways
Oh the bond that once we had so strong
has broken and we're floating along
different currents of our lives
and I just want to ^say ^my goodbyes------- my friend
posted by Erik 7:32 PM
Friday, September 27, 2002
Wow...it has been a while since I've posted anything! The creative juices have been flowing, though, now that I'm in this experience called "higher education". And I'm also finding that class is the best time to write poems and songs. Like this one right here, I wrote it in my BUS 100 class. Here goes:
One Way Roads
The path before me looks unsure
The same both left and right
This crossroads of my life to come
With roads of joy and fright
Though I can choose which road I may
All roads in life are marked “One Way”
How can I know which way to go?
The way less traveled, Frost?
Or should I stay where I feel safe
With all the other lost?
And no matter how far I stray
All roads in life are marked “One Way”
I’m feeling now that I have found
The wisest path to choose
I’m pressing on, my life ahead
In hopes I will not lose
I’m keeping all my fears at bay
For roads in life are marked “One Way”
In this life we’re on a journey
Traveling without a map
And though the course is long and weary
The Lord is at our back
So let him guide you every day
For roads in life are marked “One Way”
posted by Erik 12:36 PM
Tuesday, February 12, 2002
I have had this song idea for a long time. Well, I'm finally going to put it on paper. Slower, worship song. Here goes:
A Simple Song of Praise
You are worthy to be praised
But I am so unworthy to praise you Lord
So I'll sing this simple love song
Cause' it's all that I can do
To worship you
The skies declare your glory
The seas they shout your name
All nature tells your story
Your love it will proclaim
Chorus
I'll sing to you forever
Your name I will lift up
More precious than gold or silver
is your love that fills my cup
Chorus x2
posted by Erik 1:31 PM
This is a pretty artsy poem, I would say. I wrote it becuase most people just form a shell around themselves and dont let people see what they are really thinking or feeling. Ok, here goes.
Mask of Emotions
She glides through the crowd
with a smile on her face
Her voice is loud
but her soul is crying
She fronts a grin
she's frowning withing
She can fool them
but not me
I know her pain
She's wanting to run
but she looks so sane
In her mask of emotions
posted by Erik 1:09 PM
Ok, this one is out of my archives. I wrote it when I was dating a girl that as way out of my leauge. And so, I always felt like I didn't deserve her. Well, that's the basis of the poem, here goes:
Doubts
Am I everything you hoped for?
You know I try to be
I couldn't offer any more
of the love that is inside of me
I try my best to be the best
to stand out high above the rest
But though I know how hard I try
I feel you deserve a better guy
I've a careful eye on all I do
forever afraid I'll make the wrong move
and in that move I'd lose you
And my shortcomings I will prove
I know it's all going to end someday
and it'll be my fault, someway
But I'll try my best to keep it at bay
because I don't want to lose you no how, no way
posted by Erik 1:06 PM
Thursday, January 03, 2002
Well, here it is! My snow poem. Hope you like it!
What is snow?
Snow is like love
It covers over everything
Snow is like life
It’s here today and gone tomorrow
Snow is like God’s grace
Everyone can enjoy it
Snow is like an old friend
It smoothes out all the rough edges
Snow is like the perfect woman
Fun an beautiful at the same time
Snow is like trust
It takes time to build it up
Snow is like childhood
It’s over way too soon!
posted by Erik 1:05 PM
I love snow. I mean, how can't you? It's fun and beautiful at the same time. I think I'm going to write a poem about snow. I'll post it later today. Right now, I'm going to go get some hot chocolate, sit by the fire, and enjoy my day off.
posted by Erik 9:03 AM
Saturday, December 29, 2001
Ack! I cannot believe how sappy my poems used to be!!! I was just looking through my archives and pulled out my poem folder. These poems are so sickeningly sappy that I can't believe I wrote them to my girlfriend at the time. Wow, love can do strange things to a guy, I guess. In my searching, I did find a few good ones that I wrote inbetween my little love notes. Here they are below. Be glad I didn't include the love poems. Be very glad.
posted by Erik 4:27 PM
This poem is out of my archives. I have no idea when I came up with it. A while ago, anyways. I wrote it because Americans, as a people, are not honest about their feelings. I guilty of it, too. Not sure what I mean? Read on, you'll get it at the end.
How are you?
How are you? I was asked today
and I didn't quite know what to say
I'm feeling vengeful
Somewhat sinful
Life is crazy
I feel hazy
Despite it all I'm being lazy
I feel mad
I feel sad
Got more strife than I ever had
Got no money, got to borrow from Dad
But through it all I still feel glad
I'm a little perturbed
I'm a little disturbed
about some stuff that I have heard
I need a break
For sanity's sake
These thoughts all crash inside my mind
but I just smile and say, "I'm fine."
posted by Erik 4:23 PM
This song is kinda personal. I wrote it about a year ago after some hard times. It's a slower song, more thoughtful. Here goes.
Your Grace is Sufficient
I made you a promise
Said this time I’d be true
This time I’ll be faithful
This time I’ll see it through
But I’m on my knees again
Crying at your feet
My spirit is willing
But my flesh is so weak
Chorus
Lord your grace is sufficient for me
Lord your grace is sufficient for me
I let you down again, but you pick me up out of my sin
Lord your grace is sufficient for me
I wanted to please you
I tried to be strong
But I just went nowhere
Because I tried on my own
Lord please teach me
That though I might fail you
Your beside me
And no matter what I do…
Chorus (x2)
posted by Erik 4:15 PM
Friday, December 28, 2001
Ok, I'm that the beach, and I got inspired. Well, actually, I came up with the chorus to this about 9 months ago, but last night I got inspired to write some verses to go with it. It's and upbeat worship song, but since I can't write musical notes here, just make up your own tune. Anyways, here it is. Hope ya'll like it!
I Praise You Lord
You made the mountains and the sea
And everything that's in-between
You made the stars, you made the sky
And in your power you rule on high
You made the mighty winds to blow
By your creation we all know
That you are God, the Holy One
And that above you there is none
You are my Lord, you are my King
And that is why I sing....
Chorus
I've got to praise you, Lord
Oh I praise you Lord
For everything you are
And everything you do for me
I've got to praise you, Lord
Oh I praise you Lord
For everything you are
And everything you do for me
You made my body, here I stand
I sing the praises of the Lamb
You are Jehovah, you are just
You rein above in righteousness
You are my shelter, your my shield
And the whole world before you kneels
You sent your one and only Son
Because of Him the battle's won
I praise you God with all my being
And that is why i sing...
Chorus x2
posted by Erik 6:53 AM
I wish I was 7 years old again.
I wish my most important reponsibility was to not cross the street.
I wish girls still had cooties so I wouldn't have to deal with my desires to date them.
I wish that I could spend more time climbing trees and less time working and going to school.
I wish I still had 10 years to hang out with my friends before we went our seperate ways, instead of 6 months.
I wish my life was simpler than it is now.
I wish i was 7 years old again.
posted by Erik 6:17 AM
Tuesday, December 18, 2001
Well, after a short hiatus due to exams, I am back in action! Today I was thinking, it's really sad how Christmas gets less exciting for me every year. I mean, when I was a kid, I couldn't sleep well for the whole week before Christmas, much less Christmas Eve. Now, well, I'm just not giddy about Christmas anymore. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy spending time with family and I like the tradition of Christmas, but I want to me giddy about it! I want to have sugar plums dancing in my head. I want to stay up late to see if reindeer really know how to fly. I hate how Christmas has become almost routine to me. Criminy! I want to be a stary-eyed little kid again, getting up at 5am on Christmas morning. Ah, I hate growing up. I'm going to go find my blankey and put on my ninja turtle pajamas (if I can fit into them).
posted by Erik 3:59 PM
Thursday, December 13, 2001
I wrote this short story about a year ago. It has an importent lesson if you read inbetween the lines. Hint: Look for Biblical allusions....and the last line is the kicker.
Growing up Mississippi Style
A diary is a window to someone’s past. A piece of time preserved forever in yellowed pages. The other day, I found my childhood diary. It’s fascinating to look back at who you were, and see what has remained the same, and also what has changed.
August 3, 1851
On the outside looking in, you would think I have a happy life. My father is the owner of the largest cotton plantation in Mississippi. I can have anything I want. I go to the richest school around during the day and sleep on a feather mattress at night. But I’m not happy like my brothers and sisters. I’m miserable.
It’s because I can’t stand to see the slaves working day in and day out under the torturous conditions my father forces them to live in. They live in filthy little shanties, eat meager meals, if any meals at all, and work under the hot sun and a whip all day long. My parents don’t understand why I don’t like to play outside like all their other children. They think that I don’t like the heat, but they’re wrong. I can’t stand to see the mothers toiling away while their babies cry for milk. I can’t stand to see the men whipped within an inch of their life because they were five pounds under their cotton quota of one hundred unattainable pounds.
I want to help them so badly, but if I even give a sympathetic sigh my
father will yell and get so furious at me I don’t even want to think about it. He says that blacks are weak and stupid animals to labor under the white man’s superior hand. How can he call himself superior when he can’t even do anything on his own? He can’t grow the cotton himself, he can’t cook for himself, and he can’t even drive his buggy himself. He has to have slaves to do it all for him. That’s what I call weak. And stupidity…he doesn’t even realize, or he realizes and doesn’t care, that if he gave his slaves a little more food and shelter they would be healthier and work better. Personally, I think he just likes to see them suffer. I know I shouldn’t be so critical of my own father, but it doesn’t take long to grow to hate a “man” like him.
The above diary entry brought me immediately back to one of the scariest, as well as most exhilarating, moments of my life. It was a simmering summer day on my father’s plantation. I had just finished taking a nap and as I walked down the hall I heard murmuring from my parents room. As I crept closer, I could hear what they were saying.
“Ruth, I simply can not allow this sort of thing to continue. I can’t. It’s just not safe.” Papa cried.
“Judas how can you be sure that he’s really doing what you say he is? What if he’s innocent? Shouldn’t you just wait and see what happens?” Mama said.
“Are you saying that I didn’t hear what I know I heard?” He roared, “I know that boy is trying to turn the whole plantation against me and I won’t stand for it!
I’m going to make an example out of that boy and teach the whole lot of them a lesson they’ll never forget!”
I had seen papa teach our slaves once before, and the result was another gravestone out back. It was not something I wanted to see again. Especially not to the “boy” he was referring to, Luke.
That night at diner it was obvious that my thoughts were elsewhere.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Papa inquired?
“Nothing, sir.”
“Do I need to call the doctor for you?”
“No, Sir. I’m fine”
Actually, I would have liked for him to call the doctor. And the police, and the sheriff, and the President of the United States while he’s at it. Call anyone that would stop him from murdering Luke at sunrise the next day.
That evening I decided with resolve to do disobey my father, and to do two things he told me never to do. He said never go out at night and never, under any circumstances, should I talk to the slaves unless giving them orders. My plan was to sneak out under the cover of night and tell Luke that he should run away, and I would make sure that my father didn’t find him.
As the household retired for the evening, my plan was taking shape. I went to bed and pretended to go to sleep, but how could I? If I got caught, I
would rather be dead that suffer the consequences of my father’s wrath. What if I knock something over in the house and woke everyone up? What if the dogs bark? What if everyone’s not really asleep and they hear me go out? These thoughts rattled in my mind as I lie in wait for my scheme to commence.
One hour after the last evening sound was heard in the house, and I could hear my parents and sister breathing evenly in their sleep, I finally decided it was time. My knees became weak. I was so nervous I was in a daze, and I felt like I
was not really doing this. As I crept down the spinning hallway my heart tried to burst through my throat and my temples were pounding with adrenaline. Even though I was moving slower than a snail, I was breathing hard as if had just finished a marathon. Suddenly, the floorboard beneath my right foot gave out a tremendous creak. I froze. The silence was heavy and deafening. I waited for my parent’s door to open. But it didn’t. I ever so slowly continued on.
I made it to the kitchen and out the back door. Moving stealthily towards the slave huts, I passed the dogs without even crackling a leaf. As I made it to Luke’s hut, I bolted inside. Luke heard me, and his eyes shot open. He said,
“Oh no, I ain’t never done nothin’ to hurt no haunts. I ain’t done nothin’. Oooooo Lordy…don’t hurt me…”
“Luke,’ I said, “Luke, it’s me, Gabriel.”
“Oh, Gabriel, don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me. I ain’t done nothin’, please don’t hurt me…”
“Luke, I’m not going to hurt you. I came to help you. Look, Papa thinks your plotting rebellion and he means to make a lesson out of you. I think he plans on hanging you.”
“Hangin’ me!? But I ain’t done nothin’, don’t he see?”
“It doesn’t matter if you did or didn’t do something, he thinks you did so you did. Now listen, if you leave now, you can get a six-hour start. I’ll delay my father. You just go. Now.”
Luke looked longingly at his wife
“Gabriel, please, tell her I love her, and I’ll see her again, if not on this earth than in heaven.”
“I will, Luke, I will. Now go.” I said.
A resolute look came over Luke’s eyes as he walked out the door and then broke into a run as he reached the fields. I watched his figure move swiftly in the moonlight until he hit the woods. He would be safe now, I knew it.
I stole back into my bedroom, and realizing that I had been undetected, a wave of calmness swept over me, and I drifted off to sleep.
Indeed, it certainly is fascinating to look back at the fiery passion of my youth. I chuckled to myself. Yes, I was such a fool. To look at me now, with all of my slaves and my own plantation, you never would have thought that I had been such a rebellious lad. But now I know better. I grew up and gave up my childish ways. You know, we all have to become adults some day, don’t we?
posted by Erik 1:39 PM
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