anastasia_says, posts by tag: poem - LiveJournal (original) (raw)

| | I am tiredof all your expectations.You say these things,You ask them of me:Do you know what you are even expecting?I am recoil.Taken aback, your words take their own toll.In a whirlwind, you are grabbing at my ankle.Would you pull me down?The irony.My only allure is truly the speed of my flight.Waiting and waiting, in tearsYou call in the night.Because deep at the heart of the asking matterI love you, I love youBut I feel helples to tell you the whole truth.I can not give you what you say you needI am not a replacement Godto tell you of what Jesus sees.I am not your counterpart.I am here, But I am wholeI will not departfrom the plaguing dominion of my Lord.He calls me onand I reply with strangled promises.I will take up my cross followLord where you lead me.Do you understand that at all?Do you understand how much it hurts when you ask me to hold you,to hold you again.To hold you togetherwith only these two hands?I'm sorry,I'm sorry.I will only let you down.I'm sorry for my anger.I'm sorry for my turning shoulders.I'm sorry, I'm sorry.You will only push me further into the wall.I'm sorry, my only answerwill have to be no.Tags:poemMood:busyMusic:sunday bloody sunday :: u2 The Way of Grief,A Road of Suffering.The irony of walking these Jerusalem stepstoward a new Way Of unending life.My Jesus is nothing,if not dignified.If He's coming for a pure bride.Well, that can't be me.But Graceful GraceIt speaks,eloquently.Early morning,unending day.Stations and thirst:My History,My new Beginning.This is the Way we are, we can be.My Jesus is nothing,if He is not who He says He is.Who do You say I am now?Tags:poemMood:awakeMusic:pure bride :: leeland Each week serves out more of the same:Are you listening?I'm barely awake.Every day is a struggle to open my eyes,Roll over, roll over.Walking sleep.He knelt for me, and prayed.He held out His hands for me, and prayed.For me, he was afraid:Your will for me's the opposite way.For me, for me.I am so weak.I look to you just once a day, I turn my head to growing shame.For me, he bore death, afraid.Each of my days may feel the same.Waiting and waiting, dolefully participating.But I know thatBeneath the surface...Something amazing is waiting.I need to wake up.I need to wake up.You did it already, Jesus.Help me to live like you did: Wide Awake.Tags:poemMusic:opposite way :: leeland I've done it again- I always do the same thing.I let my heart fall asleep and follow the aimlessness of heavy feet,directionless directions that infects even my sleep.This running-away syndrome that runs even more deeply than I would care to admiton my best days.Will I ever be free?The way that Benny, Smith and Aimee seem to be?Every now and then I can manage to change the shape of my mouthAnd tell you that All I am is yours& that your name is Glorious, over us.Sometimes, I catch myself saying to the dash of my car, to fellow commuters I will believe even that which I can not see.But I'm not sure that they are listening.Are they the sons and daughtersthat are walking out in darkness, calling out.Am I so full of words that I am closed to the sounds that anyone else would make?Yes.It's my shame, my shameClosed away from all that things I could be, should be.My only freedom is found in truth.And when it spills from me, into you?Truth Words are freedom.We are again,absolute.Tags:poemMood:restlessMusic:oh you bring :: hillsong united It was nighttime, here.And do you remember, daylight? Can you recall green, pretending to be blue?Waiting and waiting, panting at the moon.I've been staring at you in your sleep.On those occasions when you let me in.Airborne.They still, ask me what love is.Even now.Hungry hearts,keening at the stars for more of theirreflected sunlight.The brightness of the daysthe burnt retina, the token foray.Love is waiting on the other side,can you take it?Rail away,at the moon.Love come soon.Tags:poemMood:tiredMusic:one sweet love :: sara bareilles It's been two days since I've seen you and I'vebeen helpless but to run.I buried my head in Sufjan Steven's, nothing butIllinois, historical pin-pricks all the way to Michigan.Coffee, pushed deep into my Winter Skin.Oh, what are you thinking?Wireless connections from your love through to your fingertips.Restless and even more,restlessness, how can I level a score that I can't see?How can I beat the palpitations of my own unkind heart?Come glockenspeil, come violins.I have been to the edge of now and back again.What comes next?Which state is your project?I remain undivided in this here,my country of reprieveA land of grace,a blind kingdom unseen,but for the changed hearts and hands of men.Empty pages, flicked out before me.I have a pen,I see those lines.But if you were me and you were so restless, could you hope to fill them?And I am still afraid of what is not really under my bed.Track #5,Yes, it's all in my head.Sadly, My feet do not listen to that reasoning, and stay firmly planted at matress level, instead.They are unteachable,child-like and flat.Keys beneath my fingers, tomorrow feels so far from this stretching hourthis week fasted, bleeding and unwed.Empty emotion of irrational dread.Are you writing from the heart?I could say yes,or I could tell you the real truth, instead.I shouldn't have researched that song...Track # Five,Haunting me and my restlessness.I'm still uninspired.Flat and weary, all dark tones for too much music.Is there such a thing?Tags:poemMood:boredMusic:Come on feel the illinoise ::: sufjan stevens Are there enough words in the whole wide world?You have So Much of goodness and grace.So Much love, that I can not possiblyface it all all at once.There aren't enough spaces for my eyes to breathe.Is this glory?I've heard of it before...But I do not think that anyone has everadequately described what glory is like.I would remember something like this,if it had ever happened to me before.I am thinking about the way,Oh.O.And this is how we will sing.With all that we are,and something else, a little bit more...of glory.Maybe I could tell someone else about it,Maybe I could find just one person to show.Because they would remember something like this,if they wanted to open their ears to hear it,If they wanted to know.I would tell you about glory, Oh. O.There is a lot of it,So Much of it.Goodness and graceful love...Well, it's all over the place.Tags:poemMusic:how he loves :: david crowder band Deep Congolese weariness,speak to me.Words of Lingalese,stomachs that long ago ceased to moan of Protein.A body of bodies that has forgottenmore than rich poverty.sedimentary layers of subsistence dust in unRelief.I am standing here, my Here.A thousand light years from your anywhere.You could not bribe me enough to aid me. To help me to begin to explain:Unstarving mouths.Unyearning frames.Desire drives us onward, onwardA speeding train into your nowhere.I am here, where Need is a caption to foreign currency.Is it Poisonwood?Just to you.My acid blood is white.It simply runs too deep for me to see.Tags:poemMusic:albertine :: brooke fraser You are lovely.Your words are bright and your skin is rosy withyouthfulness, exuberance.You are careless words and joyful prospect.Your vision is nought but sunlight and mid-morning.I am afternoon.I am scythed at the knee by careless words,with thoughtless insensitivity at the hands of your prospect.I am twisted, moved away from straight and tall.I am bent over from now on.Tags:poem & we were there,with our arms high and voices loudwith high pitched squealing of joy and fervour.What a naive idolatry.faith placed in nervous hands,shaking knees,and an unsteady smile.I would be uncertain, too. With so much adorationthrown wholeheartedly at me....And you are only nineteen,confused by it all.We are younger yet,we are louder still.Tags:poem Previous 10 EntriesTop of Page | | 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