slow to realizations...easy to pronounce a metaphor

i have noticed how tunnel vision comes out when i'm making lots of blackout poetry.

one external limit is the words given to me, for example, i have lately been going to an old pocket book of art history. hence so many undertones (or overtones) of religion and such.

an internal limitation is simply, myself. while i'm sure there's some study just waiting to be picked up by a overzealous psychologist, i am limited to words that appeal to me. at least in the initial process.
as i work through it, i get rid of particular phrases or words that direct the poetry into the final theme. occasionally i can only "make it work" by getting rid of a word or phrase that i really want to keep. the problem is that it doesn't flow with all the other words.

somehow, i'm sure this can be some sort of metaphoric life application.

in the meantime, it's nice to be back into regularly working on blackouts. expect many more as i go through this old book.

hope for christianity, honesty

original structure can still be unbroken

here one feels the protection of Christ

those remaining
are the only
possible
representations of Christianity

complaint of capitalist church

the end of the recurrent myth
of the "purity" of churches

no reminder should disturb reality
never existed

emphasis on pomp
overshadowed
reason
for the Church to be poor, lowly

everything had to contribute
to church
appearing as a paradise

fundamental legalism

obeys the rules
reached by the faithful
after measured progress...

heaven
represent God's work of salvation progress

to find the right church

the question
encouraged basic differences

share the same overall plan


discussion as to how we find being

comlaints with a political church

communities support acceptance
previously regarded with suspicion

changing social conditions
indicates fundamental turning point
in basic form and spirit

bureaucratic machine of the Church

community, cause. image

community and cause

art of breathing life
into the question.

encourage basic differences
share the same overall plan

discussion
as to how
we find
being.

life

through all the battles

isolation ends.

death is swallowed up in victory.

see what i did! images from the original project ('the journal/the journey")

excluding the last one marked in red, the following images are from my blackout poetry project that started this blog. for the moment, they are not in the correct order, also, i have many more than what you see here...closer to 30 were displayed as one story, closer to 50+ blackouts were made that never got used. but for now, here are images from the original blackout project (apologies for the poor photo quality, i will try to post clearer images in the future):

holding out alone. communication. never happens. at random.

radical solution to long developing problems. drastic change.

breaking point. identity. you are. under the surface.

friendships have. a result. people.

can i judge them? i don't know.

together we decided to show people the beginning.

genuine. heartbreak. personal.

this is a work in progress blackout poetry. i ran out of black marker, but there's no rule to what colors you can use, so it's all good! some people are terribly clever and include pictures in the pages they are blacking out. someday i will be brave and creative enough to try that.

the lyrics of the songs that capture

rickety bridge by cecil otter featuring dessa of doomtree. live at the fitzgerald theatre


well as soon as you got out from the aim of the sniper
you took a rest next to the fangs of a viper


but it’s raining tonight for you
i know you love the rain, I watch you drink it up and strike another flame
and when you came to show your face to the animals, 
who swore it was intangible to orchestrate a radical


i saw your eyes go from lower case to capital
it’s like you had to pull the rug from underneath yourself to feel alive


i’ve seen the size of that painting in your mind 
and I can be the frame when it arrives
we’ll drive until the sun comes up
with a better way to burn us 
and when it does we’ll make our getaway
and surface when the moon is full, 
it’s beautiful
we left the root of all evil rotten in the ground
we’re bound to live another way, like some underpaid runaways.
it’s an understatement. 
turn the page, 
there’s too much to say.
so from the pavement we walk into the faces we haunt 
into the weight of the cross we bear, 
we repair the stitches and beware the witches


the kids are sickly, they’re panicked, and they’re anxious.
they’re lookin’ for a woman with a command of the language
we watch them beat their hands against the cages
from the outside they’re lookin’ to get back in
and as soon as they got out from the aim of their sniper
they took a rest next to the fangs of the viper
but it’s raining tonight for you
i know you love the rain, 
i watch you drink it up and strike another flame
and when you came to show your face to the animals, 
who swore it was intangible to orchestrate this radical
i saw your eyes go from lower case to capital
it’s like you had to pull the rug from underneath yourself to feel alive

so from the pavement we walk into the faces we haunt 
into the weight of the cross we bear,
we repair the stitches and 
beware the witches 


the kids are sickly, they’re panicked, and they’re anxious.
they’re lookin’ for a woman with a command of the language
we watch them beat their hands against the cages
from the outside they’re lookin’ to get back in

and we're looking and we're laughing
we're laughing like little kids

and it's a rickety, rickety, rickety bridge

and i'd love to walk that rickety, rickety, rickety bridge
with you
everyday.


<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ovYYV8ofJak" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

reprieve from struggles

take a breath
to remind himself
he was alive

turned and looked
right at her

quickly disappeared inside
shutting himself away from the world


he'd forgotten to eat
again


had been determined for these weeks or months


depending on the entire process

but at the end of the day
knew he'd given it his best

the triumph is not the story, the journey is the story

http://bostonglobe.com/opinion/editorials/2012/08/05/judo-champ-kayla-harrison-tosses-demons-mat/5ignvoDVQ0whG7m4do2s5L/story.html

living story

they've all got a story to tell.

do you understand that?

wanted

did God want him so much?
he pushed back
"i don't know you."

bitter and mad
always been quiet
he looked down

"you came into my life."

i said you're free.

"i'm not free to go. i can walk away.
but then i'll still be thinking of you."

so just go.

but he didn't go.
that thought didn't scare him nearly enough to make him walk away.

pyromania

trying to start a campfire.
all those little hooligans

doused the wood
light fluid
match to the wood

fire seemed to spurt and fizzle
fascinated
get this fire started

"we'll figure this out"

"we learned how to make fire.
want me to show you?"

"no."

learning friendship

"do i scare you that much?"
"you don't scare me one bit."

"play with us."
"i don't know."
funny little shiver

he couldn't resist it
she seemed shocked

she had him
he wanted to be left alone
she smiled

"now you are six years old"

now giving you your life
it's a fair question
why i waited so long

i couldn't share with anyone
wonder if i have the right
express such anguish and joy

i moved where you would come and color
you learned to walk
you have that gift of bouncing back

you weren't a great walker
comfortable with falling

you thought falling was normal
almost never cried

"i'd like to see you run"
you really ran
fell over backwards

"you've got to learn to stop"
"but i'm learning to run!"

a reminder

it took a while to scrape over the cut

stinging

where was her release from?

a crumpled paper

read it again

searched

she found the letter

written for him

his writing was beautiful

he loved her

made her think being born wasn't so bad

"don't forget"

a clear head and heart

hope.

march 30 2012. a day of hope.

30 march 2012 will be the 6th year anniversary from when the first shirt of To Write Love On Her Arms was worn by jon foreman, lead singer of the band switchfoot.

the shirts had been made to help out a friend in need. because the story was one that many shared, it grew into a movement. it started out simply as a way to raise money for the help someone needed and to give hope to someone who'd forgotten hope was real.

now that same hope is shared all over the country and the world. people are finding out that they are not alone in their pain and others are learning that they aren't helpless when their loved ones feel like they're fighting a losing battle.

someone close to me wears TWLOHA shirts very often. he believes the things they say, but he believes them for himself and for others. against all odds. at risk of sounding naive or foolish. he chooses that risk over giving up on anyone. this passionate hope in the form of a t-shirt...it sounds silly but helped me talk about things for the first time.

for the first time i felt safe enough to open up to someone.

and he's still here.

why do you wear TWLOHA?

i have a TWLOHA that dogtag that i never take off. one side has lost almost all it graphic; i am onto my third chain for it. my boyfriend gave it to me a little less than two years. i was about to leave for a long hard summer and had already had a lot of problems in the months of school. he gave it to me to remember him, to remember to keep fighting and hoping. because we both knew what the message of TWLOHA meant to us individually and together.

since then the dogtag has been through almost as much pain and struggle as i have. i've spent many nights holding it and rubbing my thumb across it. remembering hope, remembering my boyfriend who's been walking through hell with me, and everyone else loving me.

the paint has chipped, i feel bumps in the necklace.

but now i just think it fits me even better now.

a lot of sleepless nights, desperate for comfort and begging God for some relief.

terrified of losing another battle with myself.

and then the morning comes, and i wake up.

my TWLOHA necklace hangs from my neck.

i'm alive.

i'm not alone.

i'm still moving.

i have a new day to live.

why do i wear TWLOHA? my best answer would be to show you my dogtag necklace. full of story. full of hope. full of love.

rescue is possible.

hope is not a myth.

you are not alone.

vigilance

gunshot wound to his leg

show of force

jagged scar from his lip

there's a gun in the building

he stood in front

like a human shield

his black eye becoming darker

they were out of range

part of the conspiracy

the man would not let violence erupt

his mind raced

it might be the gun

silent alarm

forgiveness

lost and blaming each other

introduced conflict

blame

become angry

the guilt breaks apart community

make peace with the blame

break the cycle of blame

instead of blaming

accept forgiveness

make peace with others

give and receive

Anthony Omari

this is an article from another blog. the blog itself is fairly accurate in the baseline information it provides on the featured person or character. the author adds insane exaggerations as a creative writing tool.

one other warning, there is some "colorful", "offensive", whatever label you prefer, he cusses throughout the article. the story is still amazing.

if you would prefer to skip the language, here's is the basic story. below are some links you can follow to learn more.

the story is about Anthony Omari, who lives in Kenya with his mothers. together they run an orphanage, the Faraja Children's Home in Ngong, Kenya. sadly it has frequently been broken into by thieves and other unsavory people. one particular night, the 4th break-in of the month, Omari took on 3 men with machetes, Omari bravely protected the orphans with a hammer, the only weapon he could manage. his face was cut but a blade and he was given stitches.

he survived and is still helping the orphans. word has gotten out and donations have been given from many different countries to help the orphaned and abandoned children. they now have adequate security and also been able to purchase beds for the children.

here are some other links to learn about Omari, the orphanage and donations.

maybe a soul lives off of hope

we emphasize hope.

HOPE.

a living hope.

we will love life

and see salvation of our souls.

love

with a pure heart

we can live with hope.

hope we have in our hearts

we know love.

the risk of a relationship

something was about to happen

no one watching could know

may not be that bad

keep their eyes locked

her motion to dismiss

his vow not to be caught again

as soon as she drew a breath, he would.

recent warning:

you'll be burned.

learn to be safe

years we spent

now overflow into our writing

recognize

the pursuit of justice

you remain protected

understand the deeply felt emotions

you have to heal the sick

continual encouragement

graciously understand

we love you.

battle of memories

emotions are sealed

i could not speak my words

so to realize

what had happened in the past

talking

to the point where i could not continue

let me explain:

pain and then numbness

if you know me

you will see the evidence.