ThoughtShades FrameWork

ThoughtSculpting:
Essays, Themes, Opinions

PrimaryColors:
Constructs, Practical Ideas, Applications

VersePainting:
Poetry, Impression Writing

WordShaping:
Sermons, Devotions

LifeSketching:
Personal Revelations, Illustrations

Viewpoint: Politics, Contemporary Issues, Editorials

GuestGalleries:

Choice Offerings by Others

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VersePainting

Poetry, impression writing, allegories, and anything else too unusual to categorize.

Monday
May282007

Expensive Love

Expensive Love

You have to bleed.
It’s worth nothing, unless you bleed.
Without a wound, you cannot bleed.
Without a cut, there is no wound.
Without the sword, there is no cut.
Without a risk, no sword can reach you.
You have to bleed. Scars rule.

Smooth gets admired,
But love flows to the scarred.
It’s because those who love, bleed.
And love will always find her own.

You have to bleed,
But you may not.
You may choose to avoid the pain.
You may keep yourself safely distant from the sword.
Cleverness may outmaneuver all risks, preserving itself.
In so doing, it foregoes love.

So, when you find something you love,
When you get something you will not do without,
Bleed for it.
Face the sword.
Stand out there and risk it all.
Bleed. It’s the price love places upon itself.

Monday
May282007

God Did

God Did

I rehashed a tragedy today.
It was messy, shameful, crushing.
They asked why…again and again.
If God…Why did God…How could God…
I don’t understand God…

God didn’t.
The resident forces of darkness
Violently oppose all that is good.
Understood?
The corrupt and corruptible nature of Adam,
Complicit in wrongdoing, fell again.
These powers define the world we inhabit.

I rehashed a tragedy today.
It was messy, shameful, crushing.
I asked why…again and again.
How could God…?
How could I understand God…?

God did.
The superior forces of good,
With greater violence, overcame all that was evil.
I understand.
He did not enter a virtual world with make believe enemies.
He did not shed pretend blood or die a painless death
That was no death at all.

I rejoice in a victory today.
It was messy, shameful and crushing.
Wounding and healing, defeat and victory
God waved no wand; he did not snap his fingers.
Eyes wide open, body braced, he threw himself into the fray.
Real blow by real blow,
The outcome was never in doubt.
But you couldn’t tell it in the process.

Monday
May282007

I

I

I cannot do this thing.
I cannot do this.
I cannot do.
I cannot.
I.

I?
I!
I.
.
No I?

No.

Period.
I am the subject.
Can I start over?
Start over.

.
I.
I?
I!
I can.
I can do.
I can do…
I can do…
I cannot…
I can…
I cannot…
I can do this!
I can …

I can do this thing.
I can do this thing!
I can do this thing!
I can do this thing!
I can do this thing!
I can do this thing!
I can do this thing!
I can do this…
I can do…
I can…
I.

If I start with I…
I…
I can…
I can add…
I can add anything…
I can keep adding anything… if I start with I.

Friday
Jun082007

If I Were

Verse by J. Ryan Jordan at age seven.

If I were a dog, I’d bark and bark.
If I were a cat, I’d meow and meow.
If I were a dad, I’d yell and yell.
If I were a mom, I’d cook and cook.
If I were an ant, I’d work and work.
If I were a bat, I’d fly and fly.
If I were a butterfly, I’d flap and flap.
If I were a book, I’d turn and turn.
If I were a light, I’d flash and flash.
If I were a lion, I’d roar and roar.
If I were a tiger, I’d growl and growl.
If I were a monkey, I’d laugh and laugh.
If I were a pig, I’d stink and stink.
If I were a horse, I’d run and run.
If I were a grandpa, I’d write and write.

Monday
May282007

Late Awakening

Late Awakening

If I knew when it happened, I would tell you
Because it’s something you would want to know.
I think it was when my sandy brown
Whitened to its unruly crop,
And my cheek crevices deepened
And grew coarse.


Maybe I was too preoccupied
Watching clocks and calendars,
Slumping through conferences
And grinning for group photos.
Where was I when you listened
And started taking me seriously?
I thought I had to be much older to matter.

I don’t remember when my words got heavy.
I wasn’t paying attention
When my opinions made a difference.
I was so used to wading into the fray
Firing my word rounds,
The bigger, the better;
The more inflammatory, the more I liked it.

Now you tell me that I am a mentor, a nurturer.

I wish I had known.

I didn’t realize our conversations

Were much more than they had always been.

It alarms me to think that my private musings

Were actually changing lives.

That arrogant teenager was just here
A moment ago.
Now, he’s gone
He must have taken
His fun and games with him.
He left me this heavy furniture.
I have no idea what to do with it.
Too bad my dad’s not here.
He would know.