WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27, 2008

What to Focus On?

 

It's true that every avenue has a majesty. A real true beauty.

How expansive is it?

How much can we see?

How far out? How far in?

Certainly there must be some magnificence still unseen.

 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 09:34 AM |

MONDAY, AUGUST 25, 2008

This Won't Be Comfortable

 

Jesus did a few big faceplants before he left this plane.

Guess that's to be expected, then. Some eating dirt.

Some nice person to wipe your face.

Others to tell you you're nuts.

Takes a lot of walking, a lot of really painful hanging

(wondering if even your own daddy god don't love you no more)

some giving up the ghost

then a stab in the heart, to make that blood run clear.

 

 

I used to be all like, "What would Jesus do?"

Do I really want to know that? Do I really want to know what Jesus would do?

Cause it ain't cozy. No it ain't.

 

 

 

 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 11:25 PM |

SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 2008

Sometimes...

"You're skinny," said me.

"You're fat," said who.

Well what can you do?

Sometimes you're green,

Sometimes you're blue. 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 09:18 PM |

FRIDAY, AUGUST 22, 2008

Asking the Mountains

 

I climbed up a mountain! Yes I did!

And when I came to the big cliff I saw the beautiful majestic mountains over and over again how they rise to the heights and penetrate the depths. My God!

And they were so beautiful I had to cry a little

And then I thought of myself

And I wondered. So I yelled to ask the mountains, "Who am I?"

The mountains paused.

And the mountains answered, "Who am I?"

And that is the best answer, don't you know. 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 12:42 PM |

SATURDAY, AUGUST 16, 2008

Potential

How ballsy is it to tell someone they have potential?

Right now you're...... not so much.

But some other time- oh dream for that!

NIGHTY NIGHT! 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 04:41 PM |

FRIDAY, AUGUST 15, 2008

Fruits off the Tree

 

The man said, "By their fruits shall they be known."

So what about that? Are we fruits? I think we're trees too, but hear me out for a second- what if we're fruits? And if we are fruits, how these folks gonna get a good taste of us? What's your answer to that, huh? is what you might be asking? Well you'd be asking in good timing! We gotta make like ripe fruit and split ourselves open! Let the juices run out! Spill the seeds! Maybe what I can do to help is be like one of those sample oranges at the grocery store. Here I am! Peel me! Nibble on a section of me and get a good taste. Yum Yum Yum in the Tum Tum Tum. Now how's about that tree, huh?

 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 01:01 AM |

THURSDAY, AUGUST 14, 2008

One of the Gives

 

One of the gives is the give without requirement. When even the giver is clueless. The one that goes out a little further to say, “Yep. I love you. I adore you. I am delighted to dance around like an idiot to warm your heart,” and is willing to be spit upon in return. (Adoration is a stiff drink to swig.) Are we willing to look like fools? Can it matter anymore? There is a point of no return on any journey- this being a fool on behalf of hearts. For love? Anything.

What's the distance between mediocre love and beautiful love? Ridicule is the length of it.

But anyways, the fool is the one that dances next to the king.

 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 12:25 PM |

TUESDAY, AUGUST 12, 2008

Hollow

Feeling hollow, ya say?

Good.

A few more holes...

and there'll be music.

 

 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 03:16 PM |

MONDAY, AUGUST 11, 2008

The Contest

 

The King of Pleasing had a contest.
The game was set like so:
The lady with fairest performance
within royal bed
Would win the King's preference-
A Queen's crown for her head

Women came from high and low
(oh so very low)
in a blow by blow
Holy! Oh!
Stroking match within the gilded bed
The King insisted (or rather- gently led)
each fair lady to perform
as heaven in dreams spoke
her own version
with beloved King, note by note

So in they came! (the judging was rather stiff)
You'd never know how hard he worked
The way said King went to and with
There were moans of disappointment
Sighs for the monarch's behavior

Who knew there were so many ladies
Looking for royal favor!

Some ladies got their groove on
Some ladies were grooved upon
Some were creative,
some seemed sedated.
Regardless of the royal chaffing,
a go at the naked contest they were making

Finally it came the time
the winning word to speak
All the competing ladies gathered
and uttered not a peep
The King stood on the tower
and announced alongside his heir,
"This call is for the one not courting underwear!"

No one had got that memo
They were all dressed head to toe

Except the one unclad lady
still passed out in the bungalow.
They found her there
Lying still
Saying her mind was blown

The servants questioned,
You know you've won the throne?

Once she regained her senses
she was delighted to finally know
How was it that so many could stand in finery-
while she had been congratulated- just in her hinery?
She learned in what the King said later
"You seemed at home, no barrier.
Besides, you've a lovely derrière."

Well, the moral is-
if there's a moral-

(I know, it's quite a stretch)
Once one has played naked
One may as well stay undressed.

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 11:29 PM |

MONDAY, AUGUST 11, 2008

Grow/Die

 

I'm tired of all this dying! I don't want to be pruned back anymore! I want to grow and grow and grow!

You mean like kudzu? The most cursed and invasive plant that exists? That smothers every flowering vine in its path and has growing orgies over concrete and through windows? You want to be like that?

Oh... well, no... no, actually, I don't wanna be like that.

Or maybe you'd rather be like a big fat belly that gets bigger and bigger and bigger and never pauses to stop eating?

Erm... no. I don't want to be a big fat belly.

Perhaps, then, you'd prefer to be like a colony of rats that fucks in the cess, swarms and throbs in the infested underground and overtakes abandoned shells of society, gnawing through anything?

Gross! Jesus- I get the point. What if, say, what about a little dying... what will I be like then?

You will be like a phoenix of a thousand colors that burns in order to live, giving light and beauty.

Groovy, very groovy. But you're saying, let me just get what you're saying... I get to be a lot of colors, but I actually have to burn myself alive?

Uh, technically, yes. That's, uh, that's basically what we're saying.

Are there any other options?

Not at the moment.

Crikes.

 

Then I guess....
maybe I...
give up.
Pass the light?

 

POSTED BY SHANNON AT 11:29 AM |