It's dumping rain and I'm writing poetry

We colored outside the lines of every opportunity and drew in a sense of brighter possibility. We read between the lines of what they'd said a thousand times and we broke through all their rhymes to sketch the story of our lives.

December 11th, 2013

I'm not entirely sure, but maybe you can view this big, tangible thing in more than one way. I always saw it with a smooth surface, the same from all angles. Well, my eyes didn't lie; they were just a bit blind. Why did this thing turn on me? I liked it better flat and smooth and predictable. Pretty heavy of a thing it is, and I can't get it off with all it's twists and turns. Sitting with it tangled up in my arms, around my neck, inside my chest, I realize I've realized nothing at all and wish for revelation or temptation or something to stir. Nothing. Rage is hot but I feel very very cold. Pride is big, but I've never felt so small. Love is love but I feel nothing of it at all. 

June 28th, 2014

Come to me and love with me

Break the mold and set in stone

Our hearts among the rolling sea

Breaking, flowing eternally

Whisper softly in the breeze

Watch it float above the trees

To land upon my fingertips 

And trace your shape around my lips

Breathe in the misty melody

Of tattered inconsistency

Swept up along the soil and silt

Of castles they should not have built

Exhale the waning fantasy

To harmonize with reality

Join hands and squint into the sun

Rejoice with me, our love has won

July 2014

Please don't tell me I should have known

When he took my hand he'd never let go

And I was the devil's child as I smiled at him

And I walked with him and it wasn't pretend

Still you look at me with a narrowed eye

Such disgrace to live in the moment

Those moments flew by and affections ran dry

But our two hearts won't try to forget it


East
When the dust flies high and the falcons cry
Run east little child, run east
If the water's low and the grass won't grow
Run east little child, run east
When the doors stay locked and your heart is caught
Run east little child, run east
If you don't belong and your song is gone
Run to me little child, run to me



Sick Love, August 2014
And it's heavy and it's heavy like the
Drip, drip, dripping
Of my tears upon these pages and I'm
Grip, grip, gripping
Tightly to my sweet religion and it's
Stick, stick, sticking
To my fingers on the tips of which I'm
Lick, lick, licking.
Can the sweetness hide the inconsistency piled up in me?
And the ache inside my belly
Will the sweetness bring relief?
For my aching gut stays clenched around my giant emptiness
As I cling to you and worship you despite my loneliness.


August 2014
If you ask me, 'what is art?" then I will ask you, "what is love, what is life, what is beauty?" For these are the indefinable that are not brought to life through definition, but instead shape and define US so that WE become the definition and we are the art, love, life, beauty, in a kaleidoscope of color and variety.

Beautiful Limbo

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” 

-George Bernard Shaw

A beautiful limbo! That's where I find myself these days. Waiting and ripping. I'm being pulled back and forth between what I want and what I want. So do two wants void any want or double the want?
I spent three days in Hannover with some relatives of one of my friends. They were so gracious and opened their home to me so generously. We cooked and baked together and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. Their home is on a hill overlooking the city of Hannover and I sat on the terrace and wondered how I am continuously brought to places and circumstances I could never have foreseen. My heart is thankful. I got to have a tour of a dentist office that's bigger than the house I grew up in and I daresay I enjoyed it. I spent an afternoon motorbiking through little villages and landing in Hannover eventually to stroll around and chill with other bikers and drink cappuccinos and I chilled in the coolness of everyone around me. I was brought back to the month of October in 2011 when I was freshly entering the world of Europe and I happened upon another unforeseen circumstance spending two weeks in Italy in a villa, motorbiking through the mountains and guzzling coffee like water. That was my first time on a motorbike and I remember feeling that rush, that freedom, that danger, that pure bliss of the wind through my clothes and the speed clenching my muscles. I will never forget that first day. So when I came upon another chance to feel all those feelings, I jumped on it. I did! I jumped on that motorbike and let every thought rush out of head and into the wind behind me. Moment by moment I enjoyed every one of them because I wasn't thinking about them. The rich reds and burnt oranges of the stone cottages and the cramped cobblestones underneath me and the beautiful churches and all the tiny details like the shapes of the houses and the curves of the roads, and just everything, everything. I was there. And I love it when each moment, each second hits you and explodes all over you and time is not time for a time. Pure joy.

There is a brewery nearby their home and I went to get beer for our dinner with the dad in the family. We walked in and talked with the bartender for a while and then he bought me a beer that was only brewed there and could only be drunk there. It didn't come in a bottle or a cask. And it was divine. It looked like Guinness, but tasted lighter and almost fruity, but not, because I don't like fruity beer. And it had a strength and a smoothness that words cannot describe. Once again, pure joy, every sip!

There are so many small things, small joys that I do not write down. Some moments are best left where you lived them.

I was in a small village called Springe last week and I found a new writing book. Although my current writing book is not filled, I couldn't help but to come straight home and write in it!!! It's one of the fanciest ones I've ever had and therefore I decided it only deserved fancy words. Here are my first pages worth.

You and me in a muddled mystery. The world you see is not for me and what I cling to sets you free, so let us wander in our messy, tangled mystery.

You matter to me
I matter to him
She matters to you
But where does this leave us but black and blue?


'I don't like words and I do like words'

You. Too personal and too broad at the same time.
You. Means too little and then too much.
You. Are too many to count and too few to matter.
I miss.
You.
Who?

Is love free? Does love make us free? Can love keep us free? If you love me and I love you, who began this love and who will carry it through? Always, there is a stronger lover.

My fingernails scratch off the layers of security that wrap me entirely and coil up around me; Don't you wish you could know me and live here beside me to haunt and to guide me, but your love will not find me. The skin that won't shed has turned red and gone raw and I still cannot find me inside of it all, so I frantically rip and I tear and I slip into permanent nothingness, all is irrelevant, you have no residence, no one is free.

Never

Never ever ever is anything the way I expect it! That sentence will bother my mom because it's so dramatic and leaves no room for change. But I do love a tidbit of exaggeration every once in a blue moon. Great, now I want a beer. Which actually would be no problem since I'm back in the land where beer is drunk like water! I am daily torn between missing Alaska and wanting to never again be away from my family and wanting to stay and explore here more and more and see every inch of Europe and settle here and make a life for at least a few years. The good thing is, I could very well fail in my efforts to stay here anyways, in which case my decision would be made for me! So I'm going to lay it all out nice and clearly for those who aren't aware of my current life situation:

Last year while I was still in Germany, I happened to chance upon a job opportunity in Cologne and went in for an interview at a company where I would teach Business English. I got the job and the plan has been for me to move back to Germany in May and work there. But I also had in my head to apply at universities here so I could study. So when I arrived a few weeks ago, I applied to a school and took a math test. My hopes are not exponentially high to be completely honest, because this math test involved calculus, everything was in German, and in the middle of the test, my calculator died… soooo that wasn't the best of luck. BUT I tried and I think that is the most important part of anything I do in my life. So I'm waiting to see if I get into the school so that I can decide if I'm taking the job or not and I'm also putting out my feelers for other possibilities in the case that both of my plans fail me. I love having numerous back up plans. Through all the wonderful people I know here, I've been blessed to always have a good roof over my head, a bed, food, and love and encouragement while I try to begin something in a foreign country. I couldn't ask for more and I didn't expect even half of what I've had. It's really so much more than I ever thought. The Heinens are of course the most loving family I could ever dream of having and I couldn't have accomplished all that I have in the past years without them pushing me to achieve more and always having an open door. I am so thankful for them. My dear friend Julia also opened up her living room for me and then told her parents about me, so through a series of events, I now am staying in her old room at her parents house in a small city 15 minutes by train from Cologne. From there, I am more easily able to pursue all my possibilities here in Germany. And let me tell you, they are SO generous! I felt immediately welcomed and comfortable and they showered me with hospitality. I arrived yesterday afternoon and her dad rode his bike so I could ride mine back to the house with them and learn the trail from the train station. Then he made sure I got a new bike lock, fixed my brakes, and is buying a new bed tomorrow for my room. We grilled outside in the garden and ate delicious food together and drank beer and wine and apfelschorle and it was glorious. This morning I helped prepare breakfast and it was of course, simply divine. They've given me a phone and offered to always come pick me up if I'm out late and can't catch a train, and I'm not paying for a thing… the small things matter to me right now, so having free shampoo and towels and lotion, not to mention food and everything all for free.. it's more than I ever imagined and I'm able to look through my options here without giving out all the money I worked for during my time in Alaska. I can't even express how thankful I am. So that's where I'm at right now. Tomorrow I should know if I got into the school, and I'll be speaking with many other people this week about other ideas of what I could do here, so it's going to be an exciting week! It's insanely hot here and I am taking showers daily. (Katie will be happy to hear that!) And I spent a lovely weekend with friends on the sea and barbecuing and other marvelous things. My head is pounding a little since I'm no longer used to drinking beer more than a few times a day, but other than that I'm so so happy! So for now, every day is an adventure to see what happens and what results will come. I'm loving and hating it. But mostly loving it.

We all have questions.

I'm confused about the nature of the modern world and how we live in it. We either have no drive or passion to really live and explore and do things with our lives, or we're driven for all the wrong reasons and don't even know why we're intent on being what we're trying to become and we feel void of happiness because we're not really living the way people should be, which is from the heart. Why do we work a job we hate just to save up money for no reason and put value on what we're told to put value on and go through each day being successful from the world's perspective but rotting on the inside, because sometimes a moment comes and hits us and we see what we're doing and what we're becoming and we hurt because it's not what our heart wants, we just were too weak to follow it and instead followed our idea of what the world wants from us. And that leaves us dry inside and wasted outside. We can't do that and we can't waste time, because we don't know how much of it we have and the world is a treasure chest brimming over with opportunity and we can pick and choose them and win and lose them and every jewel is a promise, not for worldly success, but for a chance to flourish and feel alive. The world says we fail? Then we take a different gem. We cannot fail. We can stop trying and we can reject opportunity. But life is not a win or lose game. It's a sit or run game. Either sit stagnantly and hopelessly or run with wide arms to catch what the air has for you and breathe it into your lungs and capture it there inside you until you must burst it out and take another gulp. Why don't we all live like this? Are we followers at heart or leaders? Are we scared of the world or overwhelmed by it? Do we listen to our insides churning and showing the truth of ourselves or do we swallow the words read and voices heard and take in all that is outside, becoming then something outside of ourself instead of pouring ourselves out into the world to evoke change? We have it all backwards. Who would each of us be without any influence but ourselves? We build ourselves out of others. Is that necessarily wrong? I don't think so. But it's sometimes sad, because in the midst of that we lose our heart and how to recognize it's pulse and we become very, very lost.

I write to lose, and in that, I gain.

This poem, or short story if the background is understood, portrays a distant but constant force inside me. In these few lines, I tell a story that's tread mile upon mile across my heart. Not every story needs an ending, but this story wants one. I end it with these words and therein mark the finish line inside my heart. A race not won; merely run.
These words are like a sticker on my soul. As I peel it off and place them on the page, it's a similar sensation to peeling away a scab. You must not be too early or the pain will be strong, and not be too late or the fun is all gone. Right in between is where it belongs. Strip it off quickly; it hurts, then it's gone.

May 26th, 2014
Eschar

Open mouth, listless stare
turn away, never care
point at her, save your face
piercing eyes.
But you didn't even look.
And I don't want you to.
Fist flies at empty air
bruises are everywhere
neck strains with stubborn pride
salt licked words.
But you didn't even hear.
And I don't want you to.
Pinch the scar, trace the line
bodies all ache with time
burns are just burns are just
burns. Mine.
But you didn't even care.
And I don't need you to.

Don't dress for success or even at all.

Fake is fake and fake is bad.

…Words of wisdom from Johanna while we sauntered through Wegberg eating our ice creams in the sunshine, racing to finish them before the sun did. How I've missed the refreshing ice cream and HOW I've missed my dear Johanna. Last night we snuggled up in her bed and I tickled her back while we listened to Greg's Tagebuch and she fell asleep tucked into my arms just as if I hadn't been gone a single day. My emotions have been swimming in the murkiest of places since being back in Germany and I'd try to explain it, but it's putting me in a muddle just thinking about explaining it. I've barely jotted down more than a few paragraphs in my journal since I've been here and for anyone who knows me, they know that's not at all very much. The outer layers of my emotions tell me not to write and not to think about any part of my journey and the residing emotions from May 20th, because they are saving me from all the tears for a time when I am stronger. The point where my mind allows me to begin from is when I lugged myself and my two suitcases, with the help of the train conductor, from the Erkelenz train station and heard Jojo scream my name. I looked up and saw her running through all the people with her arms open wide, wearing her new blue dress and a huge smile across her face. Then came Pia and Gereon and Britta. After that, I slept. And slept and slept. On Friday, I woke up in the morning and never got out of bed. I half slept all day until 6, had some dinner and took a walk and then slept all night too with the help of my old friend Nyquil. Although I was very tired, I think part of me was uninspired to get out of bed and live in my day. I just kept rolling over and shutting the day out. Depression always hits me when I first move. It doesn't necessarily mean that I've made the wrong choice, but it always happens, that heaviness that you try and pray away. Saturday was my first day feeling remotely like myself and I enjoyed it fully. I drove with the Heinens to the Eifel in the mountains to get their new puppy! 

Most mornings, the coffee cup I choose to drink from determines a lot for my day. It seems silly, but for coffee lovers, perhaps it makes sense. This morning I reached for a blue cup with seagulls on it, but the blue suddenly seemed too blue and too dark and my eyes lit instead upon a powder blue cup with a big daisy painted across it that seconded as a smile and I just knew I needed a smiling daisy to start my day. Today has been partly work, partly play, and now I need to get to some more work… that's why I'm writing a blog instead. I love procrastination. This is almost like double procrastination too, because I went and got ice cream with Jojo instead of doing my work. But now it's really time. I have to finish my application so I can hand it in this week. Tomorrow starts a scary/relieving week. Scary, because I'm going to find out if I can go to school and when I need to take the math test I've been dreading, and relieving because I'll know results and therefore, what to do from there. This week I'm also meeting with my future boss about the business English job. There are a lot of open ends and a few might get closed this week, so I'm a little on edge! 

It might not seem like it, but I'm happy to be back in Germany. I cleaned my bike today and just gazed lovingly at it for a while. Sadly, I'm no longer the outspoken one you've come to know and maybe love, but instead I'm back to the trying to get out the right words in the right order in this ridiculous language I decided to learn one. It's great fun.

I miss Alaska. More than a crazy amount. But I know I'll come back and I'm taking in where I am in the moment I'm given and learning and growing and enjoying. That's the only way for me to live. 

And look! I've got some new poems! 

Clothed in your love, untamed, no shame
I bore your weight, I wore your name
Proud on my skin I let you in.
Skipping beats and missing breaths
You watched me love you, now watch me press
My cheek onto your chest 
And memorize your face
Oh I knew every corner and line; you were my favorite place.

When you take each mystery you meet and tie them about you just tight enough to breathe, their cords will wind around and twist across and entwine throughout the shackles on your skin to break the bolts that hold you low and lift the corners of your soul that slacken from the weight of all you know and know and know you have to stop, unlock your cage and fly away in mystery.


Nothing else comes from my heart to my brain to my fingers to the pen to the paper like you do. But I don't want to write about you and your eyes and your sighs and the color of your skin with your whispers on my cheek that slip into my ears and wake me from my sleep. 
You and your kaleidoscope of glances, how they caught me and enchanted all the dull necessities of life so I could gaze forever and always and only see you.
Trying to leave you has led me astray; pushed my colored world into a dull, relentless gray, and so I grip on firmly to the precious ideal that our time could be endless and our love could be real.

Oh what I would give

To push out all the lead that's been building in my bones and dragging me along as each day brings me closer to leaving from one home to the other. I battle it every day although I know it's a battle that can't be won. Two completely different worlds it seems. And being in one strips me of my vision for the other. I can't help but adapt. The first few months being in Alaska again were so difficult. I fought through some days, and others I just cried or laid glued to my bed, aching for home, for Germany. I remember similar months back in 2011 when I moved to Germany. Well, that ache began to ease up as I found work, got into a musical, met new people, etc etc. It was beyond what I'd expected and as March rolled around, I realized I was more content then I'd planned on and this was amazing but also not part of the plan I'd organized inside my heart. Now it's going to hurt me to leave and I'd made sure I planned on it not hurting at all. That's what I get for trying to plan and organize my future so precisely. I'm sitting here now, with a swollen mouth, no more wisdom teeth and nothing to do except sleep, so I'm pushing past the exhaustion the pain meds bring on and I'm finally letting myself write out the thoughts that I've held for the past months. I haven't let myself write at all during my time here. I won't let myself because I know that when I begin to write, it all comes out. It's actually quite similar to when I'm speaking and I can't contain any small detail to anyone. But writing accesses a different part of my brain, a more intimate section and I am sometimes scared at what will come out, because I don't always like the truth. I think what hurts me the most is that I know I will get used to missing them all over again. The ones I hold so dear in my heart. I'll stop being sad at the end of my day that I can't tell Boogie about all the little things that made me laugh or smile or cry or anything really. Just being able to be involved in the lives of those I love. It hurts me that the pain will fade. And I'm scared. I'm so scared that I won't succeed. And saying that is so ridiculous, because I know so fully that success is not measured the way the world measures it. And I know that no matter what happens, I can flourish in it and learn from it. So I should not be afraid, yet I am. And I tell myself I will power through and keep going, because I believe in my dreams and the reality of working towards them is always worth it. I'm in the middle of my dreams right now and I believe that is the hardest place. This is the time where I have to work my hardest, give every inch of myself over to doing whatever I need to in order to accomplish my dreams. I'm going to do it. And that's what I convince myself of every time the shadows come and try to erase my passion and my courage. What is life for, if not to live it exactly so? Life can only truly be considered life to me if I feel alive and that comes through pursuing my passion with courage. Okay, my pep talk to myself is finished and now I'm back to reality and my mouth is aching again. Honestly, I'm more sad to leave Alaska than I ever have been. But I can flourish. I have so many joys and adventures awaiting me, and difficulties too. But I accept that and am going to let it come and embrace it all and this will strengthen my vision and fill me with life and I'm not ready for May 20th to come, but it will. And I will step onto that plane with tears pouring down my face and I'll hate myself for leaving again and love myself for going after my dreams. And yes, it's a very confusing feeling to have! But as Howard Therman put it, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." 
And some poetry, as with every post!

March 3rd, 2014
You gouge me out in tiny bits to feast upon my love
Flesh wrapped around your fingertips, you wear me like a glove
The softness of your breath slips out and swallows up my soul
It slowly burns across my chest, raw heat out of control
No definition in the lines criss-crossed throughout my mind
I've prayed to God so many times 
For sight, but I am blind
You scrape across me seamlessly, I'm collecting under your nails
And as you stop to look at me the voice inside me fails
I whisper up into your eyes, "sweet, sweet love where did you go?"
Your lips are silencing my cries; the man I love I do not know

One Side
I came from oceans and miles away
To this strange land of green and grey
My feet took me in a rhythmic glide
And laughter was stitched into my side

A traveler's heart beats wild and free
There is no place where it should be
Yet certain lands retain their mark
And leave inside a lingering spark

I walked upon a crevassed meadow
It deepened my step and darkened my shadow
Breathing the scent of grass and tree
The soil appeared as one with me

But as seasons were swept away in the air
No buds pinched the soil to hear my prayer
My heart flowed with water to quench the land
Returning with failure cupped in my hand

I came home with bruises crushed into my skin
Swollen with lies and colored with sin
Tears stain the corners of crumbling walls
Softening the stones of hope and resolve

These aren't mistakes, the choices I  make
Leading me down a path of disgrace
With dust on my face; pain all over the place
I swallow the grit of the truth I displaced