nathanael.ink

maybe I’m just flippant. not wise or trusting God,
just an idiot.
it’s an easy out, to lift my hands and watch is all fall apart
praise God for the tragedy and beat myself for the sin

tired of making plans. tired of not making plans.
have I done everything I could do? have I already tried too hard to pursue what He doesn’t want for me?

money is not funny. money is unlike anything human. a curse we let infect our everything. it is absolutely reasonable, while still absolutely absurd. it implies wisdom, but wisdom sees it is vain, but somehow still money wisdom attains..
faint heart never won fair lady
well faint heart never did anything really
I feel like I can handle God throwing up road blocks and yield signs, and I’m okay with bouncing off ’em and moving on trusting that He knows and is guiding me.
Am I set on anything? have I ever felt strongly about anything unusually uncommon? I think I tend to feel strongly about most everything. does that make it less meaningful? to raise the base value?..

we have seen you
under ramparts and tramways

brick by brick, the corners all faded hues,

the workers hands in full design

we have seen you in leafy things

fallen seed without need of us; instead the sun,

the sky, the rain all pour the earth

under city streets and waterways

the flower or weed who worked

its way up our misconstruction

breathed you in from greener things.

the breath which is pure oxygen

met you in a pasture

breath in pure weather, breath under

aged oak’s heavy arms

felt you from a mountain range

where every sense assumes

the stimulus of sight

 

but we saw you without skin
(all ripped from the bone)
and out the vineyard they came
connoisseurs of the blood

now under heaven there remains
testimonies without love
connoisseurs with exquisite tongues
they teach to tell and unteach
each man from his eyes, each heart from its soul
make choices for coin
‘give to me as is mine, as it is written, give to me
that she may all be mine’

you have seen us under the sun…
we can hear you still
I cannot think now
what you could be thinking…

I want to show you my righteousness
I want to boast in it, some sense of pride of what I would phrase as “God’s accomplishment in me”
which would be the most true way to say it, but, my heart would not speak it as vividly.

God has a better design than me.
….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toXlWG6JT6U

I just ordered a Captain Crunch from Starbucks. and I feel cool thereby.
I can’t fathom why.
makes me feel IN.
on the IN crowd.

it’s funny how universal that desire is.
I can’t help but consider my Love, and how He has designed us as such.
I can’t think of a better example of being IN than through Christ, and what He’s done to get us there.
I had a friend that has labored at his job at Starbucks and that paid for me to have this information to feel IN.
how much more then.. has Christ labored for us to walk right up, and feel IN His kingdom.
my analogy is so extremely shy of expressing the entirety of the situation. but. it was the stimulus for the thought

feel good about myself- regard not that I am a financial idiot.

It is not his virginity
Or your extra love sleeping
Not his commitment
Or your ‘caged bird song’
And it truly is not
The swift unconscious theft
Which stole each of our breaths

But that you were an Indian giver
At the end of it
And by contract you
Made him one too

I cannot gain repentance
not the will or goal
not the ability or grace

‘…effectith much’ well, shame to say I don’t see
how one can be righteous to extents
beyond Blood rights inherit

perceived things considered
there is not conscience without lunatic
unprogressive patterns
ten thousand times repeat the whole, in scale, of
being left out and head under removeable emotions
tárry a long while inside
for the plate to heat and houseshells to dismiss your taste

…hermit claim the lower self
tárr’ the way you sit to change
tárr’ the how you tip off your conscience
move like a wildebeest
move like the wind is feet always
racing you across the world in separate a platform
you in landmarks graded unequal(so really why bother)
he in trees and leaves to toss, sand to splash up, ebbs to carry and ride along,
heat to find with unconsideration, all this to say
we both are here in love unequal but

serving Unknowably intimate atmospherical love honey

today is not. it is unlike significant days
I will sleep it through…

or in spreadsheets no rhythm
to sift through unmanaged thought
the thoughts of course are of

well, of course of the sun
when it slips out
slow through the sheets
to unpress itself from legal arms
well no doubt you know
the light thereof
even on the tops of eyelids

it can hardly go unknown, yet creeps
back out window blinds very unlike
car doors to stranger’s eyes
to lay without window frames or houses tall to hold them
bright luminous chimes
trained to free, trained to uncontroll him…

find your lovely. take him like a novelty.
there is love to be found. but not in me. there is a hope in extraordinary. but not here.
find hope if Christ, in love or in cheap romance like sex or redemption.
there is love and I have felt it
there is love but not here. I was right in those days
when I believed you were sore to feel for me
I pitied you who pity me.

for I could never sing you a song. I could never take you on that walk you always wanted
the one where the moon is right and the stars speak for us on the grassy canvas place.

we could make lists and catalog all that you will not have, and if you dared you could let it mean that I could at least know what you want, even I could know what you’d lack, but this is not that case you see
I took all the answers from a shadowy text book places outside of time and without an ending
with this as the case my brain could not contain it, for there is no space for any unending
which makes it well for us
but sore with you

everyday a new conclusion. a new reflection on the time passed.
I wanted start this off by talking of improvements and betterments and time spent encouraging and practicing righteousness and the changes in me. but, nothing is complete, and I may never be, so I may never feel it fair to acknowledge change at all. anything less, is everything less. like
what if I am the same. completely the same. could I handle that? could I handle that I’ve done nothing? is that fair to say, I want to correct myself and say something like “that God has done nothing” but that simply isn’t true, so I can’t correct myself that way, cuz it wouldn’t be correct. I just. I. don’t know how to feel about how I feel about this, or even what I feel “this” is. kinda even more frustrating.

just, that I don’t know if it’s fair to feel progress. for some reason
is all