THE RUCKUS JOURNAL

Many beach walks have held me in awe of the control that God has over the sea and it seems to me a metaphor for how our lives can be..a little tossed around like waves and our desire to control the pain and suffering that we might find ourselves in. I want to trust in him that if I jump in His ocean He won’t let me drown.

Out The Door

Seems to be that lately I’ve been
Loosing box cutters, cleaning house
Gutters like the Old Man and The
Sea I’ve been wresting the enormous
Fishes in my tumultuous ocean of
Constant hydrographic notion,
Observing and charting the waves
Of the biased sea, that never curls
Each tip of each wave when I
Want it to,

I have invested in the amateur
Sand castles that get hassles from
Toddlers running with sharp
Swords, stabbing for rewards,
Maybe from parents, maybe
From friends but I learn that
I want to live like them,
Not frightened by the waves,
Not afraid that He saves,
Not hindered by the kedge that
Leaves me rubbing my head,
Wondering if I’ll ever jump
In, out the door I want these
Hesitations to leave, out the
Door these lost box cutters
Once held high slicing my
Skin for some blood to
Awaken the numbness
That’s brought me to this,
Opening boxes hidden in
Secret places, for surely my
Tongue has had its fights
Like each boxing round
Closing eyes slowly with
Each gasping pant, feeling
As tiny as an ant, it’s the
Raging sea, how so familiar
To Me that out the door do
I want the things I don’t
Understand, a world around
Me marked with oppression
That I seem to have no weapon
To fix to transfix eyes not on
What I believe I can do,
Taking the Neptunian waves,
Reuniting in communion,
Bowing knees, pleading to
Thaw this cold heart, for
I have written my feelings
In the sand, covered it
With my best hand,
Out the door the lie
That I’ll never be a better
Man, more boxes piling up
In his house not yet called
He’s home and in and out
Of our lives do we caress
The fathers that tried to
Save us and repentance for
A life filled with selfishness,
When I point at you, I stare
At me, and we are bound
To end up in some kind
Of glory, and swallowing
Me is the abyssal sea,
Buried underneath are the
Transformers rising up to
Destroy my society, I am
In need of protection, I
Am in need of projection,
Like you’ve never told me
How to be a son, I’ve lost
My way, and out the door
Do I ship boxes of fears
And the smallest tears,
I know that God hears
For surely my life needs
Slicing and tearing apart
Like cardboard drying
My hands, in need of
Lotion, in need of the
Notion that I must let
Go, guard the secret place
And what has been done
Has been done, but a new
Tongue do I sing that a
Simple devotion I bring
To watch the sea, to
Compare it to me
And this is who I am today,
An ocean that’s no longer in
The way, box cutters found,
Ready to abound in grace not
My own, ready to open my heart
Again like a brand new home.

You can call this the 76th poem.

Ripping up wedding invitations

Writing in the sky hesitations of

Why it might not happen for a

Small blurb of eternity,

Locked in repetitions of why

It seemed so easy to get on

The dance floor to film some

More empty tape for some seconds,

And married lives moving past me,

The electric slide coldly making its

Way past the DJ, more requests from

 Lists of sappiness and perhaps hapless

Fatherlessness unable to walk brides

Down the aisle, left for them to live

Lives empty ripping pillows,

Feathers falling freely in the sky

God beckoning us to hide underneath

Angry feathers that have split our

Sky, why has dad’s calligraphy not

Made its way to me? Only these

Questions cannot be answered

By me, for every wedding has

Its eventually, a rice toss, a

Candle lit up stick to wave

To all the singularity in

Gravity, leaving marks of

Mold like cavities taking

The mouth captive, wedding

Vows made how we wish it

Was us up there spilling

Every department of our heart,

Congrats and a new start from

Crowds, O so Holy and full

Of purity so rare like a blood

Diamond, why are these tears

Happening, the reception by

Invitation only,

Cordially accepted with a

Discount I recount the

Wedding bells clanging in the

Distance, all the couples who

Married swiftly like wind

Slamming shut an open door,

Israel, once a rotten whore,

But there is love, that’s His

Promise to pursue you all

The more, meanwhile

Sweating profusely over which

Girl will maybe dance with me,

Itching side splitting cramps

Tied up in need of bananas

To loosen the nervous grip,

Suit suspenders unable to

Suspend time spent in the

Atmosphere of the wedding

Cheer, the endless toasts of

Boasts of groom and bride

Greatness tilting her backwards

Lifting her dress upwards digging

For flowers to pass on the best

You’ve had, ladies fighting

For the golden bouquet

Making glad the day that will

Soon come for all of us

Walking away from the

Clean cut wedding cake,

For surely as each layer is

Decorated so neatly, so morsels

Of wisdom are chasing me

Like those girls in the corner

Whispering and chatting about

Who might come to their rescue,

I rip another invite, I say good-bye

To trying to imagine the coming day,

Like sudden blindness, I confess,

I like living like this, knowing that

He suspends and spins the earth

On its axes, He paints the scenery

Surrounding the future for me,

And certainly all our fears that

Wedding cheers might blast for

Us, not a slur of infidelities or

A promise of suddenly a new

Reality, a baby, a new life with

A wife, a husband, it will somehow

Land when its time to land,

As if air traffic control was due

To our weather cue, in the end,

God, its all up to you.

The Simplest Lesson

Could it be so that the

Simplest lesson could be

The magnetic strip of a

Mix tape, passed down

Through ages of growing

Into self like watching your

Own movie play in front of

You, each beat of each song

Defines a new long stretch of

Walls and fires started,

Bricks in ledges, you should

Step back my friend, was it

Three eyes blinded and the

God of wine that brought my

Best friend to save his dad,

The music was seemingly all

We had, lyrics and licks,

Guitar picks of strums that

Pounded drums in the eighth

Grade, I just wanted some hair

To braid, someone to play the

Maid and clean my life up,

It was always time to man up

At new years’ eve, when the clock

Struck a quarter to midnight,

I knew I had a fragile heart to

Hold me tight, be my girlfriend,

Lets forget 11^th grade and live

Like newlyweds, put your

Two dollar movie on

My credit card, discard the

Mix tape for some seconds

To pass us bye, your eye on

My dimly lit sky, on top of

L.A. we could someday stay,

The mix tape would always

Be the simplest lesson,

Endless drives around Fort

Collins, teaching us how to

Be comfortable inside of

The skin so easily tantalized

By a world charging with

Hostility as if Iraq has the

Plaque in our rooms, war

Reaching each and every

Safety zone, what I call to

Remember were the songs

That made us know, the

Simple lesson that we’ve

Never been given the option

To grow up, its just impeded

Us, thrown us, torn us and with

It I choose to stay simple,

Remembering the ample anthem

Of new found glory and yellowcards

For staying up too late, late night

Sparta shows, where later we would

Reflect on the afterglow that summer

Was passing and we had nothing but

The wings of the morning, we had a

God who taught us the simplest lesson,

Rest in Him, find yourself outside of

Smoke signals, fires started that none

Of us could control like life was a remote

Control or Tevo or some kind of mold

On the freshness to our adolescence,

His presence, the mix tape reminiscence

Of all we lived through, the blink 182

Was superglue for our attention span,

Perusing around town, blasting never

Down, the simplest lesson: lets just be

Us and ride through this town.

I write in remembrance of all the

Music that moved my soul and

The friends that had been in my

Life since 10, I remember and reflect

I seek to be a better poet, for you,

The reader, to learn and benefit from

These words spoken, this is my token

Of talent to the world around me.

You’ve Wanted Me To Be

I am remembering to breathe

Walking down halls of mercy

Chasing me, grassy fields forcing

Me to see past me that walks around

The block could maybe last forever,

Do you ever wonder the shape of the

Stars and if Star Trek proved true we

Would swallow new planets with our

Curiosity to fight the adversity, to

Stay up late with creativity in both

Hands, they are my only weapons

And the tainted brown desk has

Its dents and tents camped out in

The emotion of seeing and smelling

The fragrance of a free gift, one

That I could not sift through with

My intellect and the shelves that

I stock and collect memories that

Wine is needed to coax the pain

From divorce so easily expected

In the newspaper obituaries, those

Have been my current sanctuaries,

These are my inquiries, reflecting

On my simple youth where the

Printer rang free and I typed

Out all my poetry for me,

Taped it the book of life,

That is the ruckus journal

That kept me eternal, every

Forsaking the moments that

Led me to speed up, forced to

Grow up I had to leave that

Laboratory, I had to submit

To no authority, I had to

Leave childish ways and

Become the better man

That you’ve wanted me to be,

I want to see that my life has

Not been a waste but rather

A boast that strength is not

Up to me, but weakness in

Sitting in this leather chair,

Wondering why they have

Kept me texting status to

The world that I am scraping

By, that I am showing up,

That I am living and loving the

Steps it takes to be the destiny

Living inside of me.

I want it all and all is loosing my life

And in loosing I win forever dancing

In placid water and endless worship for

This is my spaceship in space, searching

For the farthest galaxies

Freshly loaded with a jolt of energy from some Mr. Pibb I am once again articulating the hype behind the movies. This has been a common theme for me A) because I love going to the movies as well as everyone else and B) I aspire to write and create films that will evoke and impact the hearts of many. This is my heart’s desire. When I prepare for a film I prepare to get educated. Wednesdays have been my day off day and today was full of three films that impacted me. I won’t expound more on  The Soloist but Paul Blart Mall Cop was simple family film laugh. I was neither in awe nor in gut busting laughter, I was in between. Sharing the night with my mom was the best part.

Ripping my ticket stub from Terminator Salvation had me in arrid disappointment once again.Soda and ice cream, my homies from work, all of us anticipating a well conformed film that has take 2o years to come to some kind of conclusion. The awe fading to black was well, tepid and sterile and predictable. No conclusion. The war with machines a neverending fight that will never be won and maybe that is the point. For once in a movie the humans do not win for this the persistent question. Who are we and what keeps us fighting? For even in knowing the future we are at war. I was just expecting victorious triumph from the human race but maybe that’s not the point. Maybe its just another movie that I can’t control. And so unsatisfied to I walk out the door.

I examine my checkbook and I see that I have spent much money searching and seeking for movies to satisfy me. Each time it seems that they come up short. For maybe it is God who is drawing me, who is absorbing  His word inside of me. For ripping this ticket stub, terminating disappointment and knowing that it will probably happen again to the many films that infiltrate the mind.

I am wrestling and think I might always wrestle with what I put before my eyes. Worthless things and everything that quenches the life of God out of me. This seems to be the point of contention.

Up next: The curious case of Benjamin Button; stay tuned.

Just remember that fascination ultimately comes from the God who spoke our world into existence. For understanding this and the fear of His name; this is our great and exceedingly reward.

The Sophomore Sunrise

Inevitable was my fable

Dinner at the table was

Never stable for she flew

In and out of our lives

Because she had to, it

Was her duty but she lived

So free as the air she floated

In, she knew how to be free

And how to pass it on to

You and me, for sophomore

Year was the beginning and the

End of greatness. And humble

Awareness was my hidden choice,

Alyssa and I had the sky to look

To and rooms connected by

Sinks and candles and as real

As our talks were we always

Were careful that we weren’t

Too loud, our fears were real,

But our tears also seriously a

Tale we could tell. For my life

At 16 was as sure as the sunrise.

Peaking and sneaking over mountains

Flipping coins into fountains wishing

That maybe our world could change,

We fought for Oscars, we compared

Our lives to the stars, we strutted our

Best suits and dresses for the public

Messes of learning how to drive,

That Honda accord struck a chord

In both of us, for that’s all we had

To keep up with the yellow school

Bus that was already quickly behind

Us, the youth group that changed us

Sewed its seeds in us, your lifeguard

Charades, my hockey fighting days

Of chins splitting and late night

Collisions with a world I was so

Certain I was ready for, but that’s

Why I was just a sophomore and

Nothing less, nothing more, resisting

The future plans that women in my

Life would run in and out me,

Careful was I to pick the cutest

Ones but wondering if the God of

Wine would sweep away my best

Friends. As sure as the sun would

Rise I was aware of the great things

That made me who I was, the simplicity

Of worship on Sunday nights, the brawls

And the nights of skating my fastest,

Outrunning the sunset that so assuredly

Was in my life as it was certain, so was

I that someday sophomore year would

Be a big good-bye as well as Alyssa, as

Well as my mom and as well as the future

Prom, yes, that too, would also be gone.

I raise my glass. I remember my past.

I am reminded each day of how great

It was to be alive just by the fact that

The sun would and will rise.

With brevity, The Soloist is about a beat down writer who encounters a down trodden homeless man with a serious talent to play the cello. In his attempts to keep his column fresh he chooses t help this man. What he learns is that medication and food and more stuff to make things better are not the remedy for this man’s problem, rather friendship is necessary.

For the average homeless person goes days upon end without talking to a single soul. For tepid waters have we basked in thinking that maybe more money and more materialism will save the oppressed. I am not saying that we shouldn’t give money or clothes or food but that is not going to solve the problem.

2 main thoughts are going through my head. One, The Gospel must be the apex of our solution. And I mean the non-self-help-be-a-better-person Gospel but the words in red, the words of Christ. For Jesus came to the earth to save, to restore the sick, to cause the blind to see, to raise the dead and for the poor(the homeless, those on the streets) to have to gospel preached to them. Jesus declared justice by showing us that in Him is the only way for salvation. The poor and down trodden need a serious power encounter with God. They need the power of God to deliver them from layers and layers of darkness.

Two, we need to listen and be friends to those who have no one to talk to. Our greatest weapon is not necessarily what we have to say, but what we don’t say in order to cause solace toward the speaker. And the speakers are the thousands that wander the streets without a friend, in fear of someone stealing from them, drugged out and strung out. We respond to these things in love and listening, the key.

I have more to say about this subject. I think along with a proper understanding of the fear of the Lord we also need to understand what God says about justice. And what it means for us to walk that out in this age. And ultimately looking with the ‘blessed hope’ to the day when vindication will come. When Jesus will physically set foot on His earth and with tenacious fire in His eyes He will make wrong things right. He will destroy all who stand in His way.

After watching The Soloist I am reminded deep within of the call to love the unlovely. To be like Christ in all that we do. I feel selfish unawareness is our greatest disease. I choose to ruckus about this all of my days. I pray for the man at Del Taco that I prayed for a week ago. I wish I could rub shoulders with those sleeping under bridges. I pray that my weak words would transform and set the oppressed free. For just showing up is the first step.

Our Greatest Disease

Locked in like some kind of animal

In a cage, I hear a subtle rage rip

Roaring from within the human

Bin, locked up and bolted tightly

Slightly covered in dark colors and

Strange odors, random strangers

His reservoirs, drinking and eating

Like carnivores is Jerry Adams,

A man like you and me, a man once

Full of dreams, a man with talents

In his forefronts, confronts the

Vagrants, stays stagnant in the moat

Surrounding his castle high of ambition

To guard his talents as ammunition,

Firing and aiming so carefully as

Holding a fresh egg watching for

The yoke to bleed through, then

Redo, he can’t seem to finagle

His way out of the handcuffs

So easily does the world forsake

Trust for the homeless as if Jerry

Could just be cured by some

Notebooks of diagnosis and pills

For hypnosis, addition of sedatives,

Adjectives of paranoia, symptoms

Of bipolarity, pressed down as

The minority Jerry Adams why

Are you peddling in the ocean surf,

You can’t breath in the salt, you can’t

Coast on what’s not yours, and in

Loosing control you realize you’ve

Lost everything and no one walking

The same streets as you can’t find

A way to simply just love you, to

Be a friend to the one who doesn’t

Have a friend, we’ve learned this

At recess time as toddlers and tykes,

In learning how to ride bikes, that

On our own is the greatest disease

In our humanity, impervious to

The lepers, ignorant to lamb suppers,

Free offerings of grace and mercy,

Yet for a guy like Jerry Adams there

Is no need for more apple pie or

Bread lines, there is only the hope

That someone in the world would

Just figure it out that our capitalism

Doesn’t cover the homeless, that our

Consumerism steals from them, that

90,000 just in L.A. are waiting for

A friend, just to show up, just to

Man up, just to wipe some tears

Out of eyes so rarely looked into,

So easily skipped through, this

Is the glue to put the oppressed

Back together, not our speeches

On feeding thousands, not our

Bread carts and vegetable bins,

Rather I purpose that Jerry Adams

And all his friends leave the empty

Streets and come over for dinner

Tonight, for his story to be heard

And a reread for us to see that

Somehow he’s come this far, and

That’s enough for us to see mercy.

I purpose altruism beyond sympathy,

I purpose a heavenly symphony that

Welcomes just one oppressed soul

At a time, one trodden no longer

Forgotten but accepted forever,

All because we chose to show up

And listen

Yesterday, May 19th, was my five month mark at TJ’s. It has been worth every minute. I love the people that I get to work with each day. I am so grateful to have a job that is so worhwhile. I am also grateful for all the discounts and hook ups at coffee shops near TJ’sl; that’s always fun. I have also become a fan of Rise Against, Paramore and a bunch of weird party techno while stocking the shelves. And for my one manager who plays the final countdown when there is 10 minutes left before the store closes. And as I am writing this I am realizing that other posts I want to blog I don’t really want to say anything right now. God is still teaching me how to just wait and stay silent.

So, I am grateful and I am looking forward to the world ending and the humans winning in Terminator. I am also going to see the Soloist today. So, look for some reviews on both movies. Also, the fear of the Lord; more on that.

Surrendering Innocence

Leaving kids locked up in the car,

Mom’s shopping ignorant to the

Horn screeching for the world to

Hear each whisper and gasp, a

Baby honking the horn just to

Get us to listen that our lives

Have become like thunderstorms,

No rest for the sky to split,

No time for sun to set,

No rhyme to change the

Scheme to exchange innocence

For beach breezes where little

Toddlers running naked on the

Beach isn’t deemed as cute anymore

But an injustice, for us

Who can speak for the unborn

As if someone has drowned them

Out with convenience as if

Responsibility doesn’t apply

To me, has this become our

Geography, our terrain in our

Brain, thinking and meddling

Over how much money we’re

Willing to pay to get a three year

Old a businessman’s pleasure

A locked up cage, a robot

Mechanism twisting bolts

And washers, petting and

Surrendering innocence

As the lavender soap has

Absorbed dirt under each

Clear fingernail, no longer

Pure white after the dirt has

Sunk in, and isn’t this just

The beginning, mud soaking

Puddles, a surrendering of

Innocence, no more children

With free spirits just toddlers

Who have lost goggles in the

Deep end, can’t search the ocean

Floor anymore, can’t splash in

The rain anymore, you must

Be swept away with a world

That will use you for their

Selfish pleasure and how

Long have we had the

Upper hand, how long

We’ve had to understand

That making things right

Should keep us at night,

That trafficking needs

Some red lights and those

Districts need sunset splits

And angels emptying heaven

For hoping in him is a surrender

To destroy all in the way of

Innocence, true repentance and

True punishment for those

That ignore his presence,

And this is the essence of

The problem, embracing

The surrender to innocence,

Keeping it pure, keeping the

Little sister spoken for

Before its too late, before

Corrupt men still hate what is

Light, consumed by flames

Of fire and fire in his eyes,

Endless sulfur, endless burn,

Is your little perversity worth

Eternity, is staying silent worth

Serenity, or will you raise your

Voice, will you and I make the

Right choice.