prosperity

"to be prosperous would not require much of me, contentment is all that it entails"
- relient k

an ode to my toenail

many weeks he has walked with me
detached and damaged
held in place with plaster
his roots no longer able

more dead everyday
my body has been saying goodbye
the bed has been made for another
the replacement is young but he's alive

he served me well
but when the going got tough he failed
blue to yellow to gone
he's no longer attached

and neither am i

sexual offenses

so i was listening to the radio this morning and heard some amazingly disturbing news that sex incidences were on the rise at an alarming rate. im petrified by what this means. it is no longer safe for a lady to walk around by herself at any time of the day. that's shocking. that's a rubbish way to live.

but im not surprised. the amount of stimulating mediums around us are ridiculous. no longer subtle, sex shouts from the rooftops: "im cheap. im easy. you can have me. you can have me now." it's moral onslaught. how did it get like this?

because we wanted freedom so badly we threw off the chains of morality thinking that morality was freedom's obstacle. now we sit with bigger chains. stuck in a world where sexual freedom has made us all slaves of the consequences.

freedom has brought with it a new set of chains
we will always be slaves
we will always have a master
do i serve me
or do i serve You

wallet

i find that my fondness of my wallet is directly proportional to how much money is inside it

forgetfulness

this is my world
this is my opinion
set in my ways
my thoughts criticise
destroying with opinion

then someone disagrees
and then someone has another idea
i can't agree
but i also can't convince them that they're wrong

and i'm left to wonder if it really matters
what is principle?
what is just preference?
what is non-negotiable?
what is not?

and where the blurriness ends the clarity doesn't begin,
and when the clock strikes 12 the hour is still not here,
and when my heart is in chains i realise it's freedom:
to love without faulting
to love the revolting

i am revolting
going against the system
forgetting preferences
remembering acceptance

preferences have killed more than acceptance has protected
love's shield has been tossed and we stand affronted

correction is beautiful
but how much more so is forgetting?

comparing words

the fleeting flurry of words
i type hurriedly
conversation is hasty
but the company fills the gap

i'm at my desk again and loving the fact that i am a part of an online community. but i can't help comparing. i have to compare. my words versus the word.

i was astounded to discover that my chat program (adium) records all my instant messenger chats. i noticed a small icon that looked like a clock and clicked on it only to be led to a new window with so so many recorded past conversations. there were too many to count! and i couldn't remember them. as i read over a few of them i could hardly remember having had those chats. they were forgotten. at the time those words served their purpose. i'd like to think that they helped people or entertained them. or more likely that i was entertained by them, and therefore im not suggesting that they were worthless words. only forgotten.

and then came the comparison... in 6000 years of history one book has stood. A book with no contradictions and no flaws. A book that is unsurpassed in its understanding of human nature and relationships. A book that became flesh and that will never die. It's words cannot be forgotten. It's words have defined truth for millenia. And my heart hungers for it's words far more than the hurried exchanges of preoccupied humans. I reach for the rich fullness of scripture. I can trade text another time....

The word that is alive... my words that are forgotten. Speak God, and I will listen.

my words

you've said enough
hold the tongue and be quiet
but there's a joke to be told
so the thinks he should try it

taking the risk he soon realises
that humour involves compromises
they laughed at the joke but the damage was clear
the chuckle rings louder than the inevitable sear

another casualty
another sore
and though it you i terror
im the prisoner of war

the mouth that builds is the mouth that destroys
the tongue that helps is the tongue that enjoys
tearing and dealing, arguing, demeaning
i know you're hurting but it's me that needs healing

you've said enough
hold the tongue and be quiet
but there's a joke to be told
so the thinks he should try it