To April!

After reading April's blog I went on a Bowie kick starting with "The Man Who Sold the World" and from the I went all over the place with my Bowie and people covering Bowie. While some of it made my ears bleed and offended my musician's heart others were fabulous. I know April was sure I would flame her for posting Nirvana's cover of Bowie's "The Man Who Sold the World" but like I told her I actually like it! As a matter of fact I have been known to listen to Nirvana's version just as often as Bowie's. That is not to say I like their version better because I am a die hard Bowie fan and that would be an impossiblity for me. So since I have no idea what poem to post I am posting the lyrics to go with April's video. Song lyrics are after all poetry sent into motion by music. Well, some of it is anyway. Some lyrics are just crap. Case in point... Brittany Spears songs. Okay off of that subject before I go all soap boxy on you. Here are the lyrics which I love. It's a brilliant song from a brilliant, if not extremely strange man.

The Man Who Sold the World

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago

Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World

I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died along, a long long time ago

Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World

See isn't that great! I know a lot of people who've never actually heard Bowie do this. If you haven't go on youtube and check it out!

Sacrifice

I often find myself wondering how Jesus could sacrifice himself for us. I know He loves us and all of that, but can you imagine? Imagine leaving behind a divine home to come to earth as a human baby! I once heard some one say that it would be something like us becoming a slug so that we could save them. Not that we are slugs exactly, but we are just that far away from Christ's divinity and all that He had. Still He did it and isn't that amazing? I hope that I never cease to be amazed at that sacrifice. His resurrection too is quite an awe inspiring thing as well, but the initial sacrifice is what leaves me feeling so humbled. What must it have been like to know you were going to die and why and be willing to do it just because you loved that much? Still, He loves us and how much more humbling is that?
Since I have been in this frame of mind this morning I though I should give you a poem I wrote several years ago that is actually extremely appropriate. I remember writing this very clearly. My dad was actually preaching and this came to me. Most of my good stuff comes to me in church. (I know you are probably thinking I shouldn't be writing in church!) It usually starts with something the preacher says and then wham! I have a line in my head. Of course, I have to write it down and it just kind of goes from there. It only takes a few minutes usually and I can get right back to the sermon. So here is what I wrote a whole 4 years ago.

His Grace

Rain sounds in His place
And I wonder on His face.
What a mighty God is He
That commands the sky and sea.

His hands can calm
Or raise a storm
And yet the cross
He has worn.

And as the torrent comes down
I think of His thorny crown.
How a saviour with such grace
Can bear to look upon my face?
-Constance

A Return

Wow! Two posts in one day! You should all be so proud of me. Earlier today I posted a poem written by Robert Burns because I had nothing of my own that fit the occasion. I did, however, promise that should I write something that did fit I would post it. Well, I've done it! It isn't exactly what I was going for, but I am still fairly pleased with it. Of course, most artist, even amatures like myself, are rarely truely pleased with their work. I think that is mostly because what you have in mind and what comes out rarely match. Still, I managed to write something so I am very pleased about that. I even managed to give it a title, which is also the title of this blog entry! I hope you all like it!

A Return

My heart leaps,
Joy is so immense.
The swell inside myself
Is far beyond intense.

To have you returned,
My love, my heart, my life,
The past weeks with loneliness,
Have been truely rife.

I know that time
Is but a fleeting thing
A small reprieve for us.
It with joy shall ring.

And when time is gone,
When I am left again
Alover lost, alone,
In my soul it will rain.

Tears of sadness will fill it.
Hope will live inside
Waiting for you return.
Hope in myself shall hide.
-Constance

I think that is fairly appropriate and conveys fairly well things I feel. I like that about poetry. You can let the world know how you feel in a nice flowery way and it's okay because poetry is meant to be at least a little flowery. That is it for today I think. At least, I don't plan on posting again until tomorrow.

Jacob is home so read a Scottish poem!

I don't have a poem that is appropriate for the occasion. I have looked and come up empty handed. Nothing I have written speaks to me in the appropriate way. Maybe I will write something later and post it. I am feeling rather inspired today, probably due to having my sweetheart back, even if for just a short while. So since I couldn't find anything of my own to share I went in search of something relatively appropriate to share that some one else had written. After searching I came up with a poem by the Scottish poet Robert Burns. It's always fun to read his work because you have to get through all of the oddly spelled words. Being Scottish he spells some of his words differently than we as Americans would. If you ever get the chance you should read more of his works. He wrote some remarkable poems. I love to read his work! While this isn't really the perfect poem and maybe I should have stuck with one about love returning I just really felt like this is the one for today.

O, My Luve is Like a Red Red Rose

O, my luve is like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my luve is like a melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi the sun!
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho it were ten thousand mile!
-Robert Burns

Random Selection

I had no rhyme or reason for picking this particular poem today. I just went trough and decided that I like this one. It deals with truth and human nature and a little bit with sin. There are actually several things a person could read into this poem. Sin, Satan, truth, human nature, fear, denial or emotional avoidance. It just depends on the reader. I hope you like it. This one, like many of my poems, doesn't have a title. I have a hard time with those. I don't know why, but I can write a poem, no problem, but ask me to give it a title and my brain goes on vacation to la-la land.


Blazing tounges
Engulf humanity.
Passion red berries
Steal our sanity.

Cold snow
Freezes lost souls.
He pretends knowledge
To those who don't know.

And away in corner
Truth hides,
In a human shaped
Desolate bottle.

Alone, scared
Because he is
Not welcome.
Not what you wish to hear.

He may remind you,
Of your own scars.
That...
You most fear.
-Constance

My weirdness... or craziness maybe?

This is another poem of mine that like the last one is just strange. Unlike the last one this one I can't make any sense of and I wrote it! The writing of this poem was a little odd too. Usually I write because I have something to say about something or to give myself an emotional outlet. This was not the case at all with the writing of this one. I was actually in a poem writing mood and had written several poems over the course of a few days and I was just sitting around reading them over when suddenly I felt the need to write. This is what came out. I have read it over and over and I still have no clue where it came from or what it's about, other than there is a somewhat creepy woman and my ever present theme of night. (I like night in case you haven't noticed.) If anybody deciphers the surreal weirdness of this poem let me know. It would be nice to understand my own freaking poem!



She wandered out
Into the obsidian night
Illuminated only by stars,
By the burning moonbeams of light.

Casting mad hazy shadows
Round and round on the ground
Arms flung abover her head
reaching wildly for the sky.

A silvery dark goddess
In the untamed beauty of
The mysterious nocturnal world,
Drawing you unerringly in.

And how can a mere man,
One such as yourself,
Be expected to resist such?
Her otherworldly grace?

Her silvery grey eyes,
Looking so much like
Her night time dance partner,
The grey moonlight?

She is the night siren
Inspiring the world
And the stories men write
And their dreams at night.

Beauty, grace, passion,
Light and dark, untamed heart,
A dream of the most ethereal
She embodies the night you feel.
-Constance

You got the creepy woman and night right?

Mystery

I wrote this poem about a dream I had. Ever since I wrote it I wondered what it meant. At first it seemed kind of strange. If you didn't know better you might think I had consumed a hallucinogenic drug. I was kind of hesitant to share it because it is a little strange and I wasn't sure of how it would be recieved. While I was talking to April a little while ago I told her about it and she said she would like to read it and I figured since she wanted to read it and my weirdness is bound to come out sooner or later I might as well go ahead and share it.
I really did dream this though and I have come to the conclusion that this is my subconscious' image of God. He holds the whole universe and He is the universe. He has everything and is everything. That is what I have come up with, but you are free to form your own opinion.

Dream visions

I drempt of a man
When I was young.
He carried the world
In His shirt pocket.

The stars lived
In His shining eyes
And the moon was
His glowing smile.

The universe sat
Upon His strong brow
And the sun shone
From all about Him.

I fell from
The sky
Into those eyes
And into His face.
-Constance

There you go, my dream's God. It's full of imagery and it is a little strange. Let me know what you think it is... or if you just agree.