Hands

If you've ever been tempted my pictures on pages, raise your hand

If you've ever been isolated so badly that you thought there was never a light, raise your hand

If you've ever allowed a complex that says you aren't good enough to exist infect your mind, raise your hand

If you've ever even thought about ridding the world of the body you take up space with, raise your hand.

If you've ever doubted the existence of something greater watching over you, raise your hand.

If you still doubt, raise your hand.

If you've ever imagined that love doesn't exist and that this world is full of evil people, sans a few, raise your hand

If you believe that money and violence will never bring peace raise your hand

If you believe that money and violence are the only way raise your hand.

If you've ever thought that your friends are before anything else raise your hand.

If you are alive because of someone else raise your hand.

If you stand here, in this room, and you don't have a hand raised let me ask you something. Are you alive at all?

Today

My ability to write good things has been decreasing.

I've noticed that it's been failing every since you left my proximity.

You were supposed to be my inspiration and you were such a good one while you were.

Now you are four hundred and forty-nine miles separated by the earth we stand on

and I am left wondering if there is any hope for my cause.

I can hear the voices talking in my ear telling me that I'm up to no good again.

But I can read the messages telling me that I am making a difference in a life.

One voice has this constant clarity that allows it to ring and resonate in my ear.

The speech feels soothing and the words are tangible and concrete.

The other only works when I sign on, log in and once I'm off the mouth is closed.

Silence.

I've always wondered if I was the only human to ever hear my own voice inside of my head,

but I'm afraid to bring it up to anyone because I don't want to be sent to a place where I am forced to take any form of medication.

I refused to be made a victim of something that can be quite helpful when I need it.

These voices tell me about my fashion and what I'm supposed to wear.

They tell me what people are thinking on the inside and what true colors radiate from beyond their own skin.

and the voices assure me that I should "solemnly swear I am up to no good."

because only then will I create the fan base that I so deeply desire.

Then my heart begins to scream, "Hold up. Stop the presses! When did this talent and gift become a thing for media-driven hearts and kids with agendas to receive. Is this not the thing that you wish to bring peace to the hearts of all who can listen?"

and Indeed, I did want this to be for all to find a sense of home.

For them to be reminded that they are not alone and are surrounded by a world of people who feel their pain.

but then I got that lawyer involved and all of my plans were placed away.

Those damn voices got inside my heart and tied it down.

Gagged and bounded it wouldn't speak for a long while.

I was then free to control my own destiny with out any emotion getting in the way.

And now I present to you the man I am today

Right Now

"Because tonight, the world turned in me.

Because right now, I don't dare to breathe."

because for the first time in my life I'm starting to get it

because community is so much more that what I though it was

because what I thought was a skeleton is actually retaining flesh and blood

because my friends are the greatest community I will ever find

because my God is redeeming me daily

because I am capable of things larger than what my mind can contain or process

That is why I write.

I'm getting it. Slowly, but I am starting to understand that I have gifts that are to be used for more than my satisfaction

Quicksand

Place another notch in that door post for the next age that I’ve survived.

I think the total is up to nineteen now even though i should have died a few years ago.

People always tell me that I’m so negative because i don’t have these big birthday bashes

The ones where everyone shows up and leaves completely spent and wasted.

What is the point of celebrating the fact that i am one year closer to death?

In celebrating the fact that i am still failing my mission as declared by my God?

Drowning is so much fun isnt it?

If anything i would prefer a jubilee over the fact that I’m still alive.

the devil’s been inside me and established an outpost somewhere in here.

And so i will wait two years necessary until i can drink myself into a stupor

and it would be called legal.

but for now im going to fill these hurting lungs with smoke out back

and think about the fact that everything i knew about my life is proven false every day i exist. Here’s to another day of pain and tears

and as I swallow the last drop of this bottle I can feel it wallowing in my throat

with the last intake of a cigarette it waits for me to exhale so it can escape

I’m so used to letting them win that I expect loss but not this time

God, if you could be of some sort of assistance.

I’m going to try and hold these demons in this body as long as I can

But the room is getting smaller as the oxygen ceases to flow to my brain

Can you turn the lights back on? I seem to have lost my path

Everything has begun to spin and I believe I have achieve total numbness

This must be the reason why so many people drink the toxins that they do

I can’t feel anything anymore and I’m ok with that, are you?

Isn’t it so much easier to run from it all than to turn the other cheek and stare it in the face?

Define your terms before you lose all hope in me because I can only try so hard before I lose all sense of energy

And you’re lack of effort to save me from myself only allows their words to continue to infiltrate

I’ve spent 19 years trying to hold this all in and it’s time that my doubts become known

Where have we been and why did we go from everything that was ours?

Hopefully I can get this cleaned up in time for my parents to never know that inside I’m another tormented soul.

If you’ll excuse me though it’s time for me to take my pills and fix myself

I do pray that you have another day surviving in the quicksand

Angles.

You are the apple of my eye, the object of my affection.

I could toss around a million different cliches that all say the same thing:

You have my attention.

Forgive me miss, if I use cheesy lines, that is not my intention

It is only my attempt to look at you through God's eyes.

And now you've probably heard it all before, but never like this, I don't think.

I don't say these things for any other reason that to make you feel beautiful like you should.

This is not an attempt to get in those pants, or for any time of selfish desire.

For you are God's creation, and to do any of that would be to stamp the word "object" all over your portrait.

I am trying my hardest to understand the way that you function,

for when I told you I loved you i meant it with all that was in me.

You aren't some piece of me for me to fantasize about.

You are and individual with a heart and soul.

Your blood runs through veins that are similar to mine.

Your heart beats like mine but in a different time

and I never want to break that fragile heart of yours, no matter how much you doubt the truth of my words.

This is my honest attempt to love you. This won't be my last attempt to love you.

I know it sounds a little creepy, but I will never stop loving you

and you can take that as it is or try and love me too.

I wish to speak your language of love so I could better show you.

Your language of love is my love language too.

This is agape at its finest, second only to Jesus in the Gospels.

It still hurts when you don't see it, don't lean in ant try to feel if it is real,

but I love you still, despite the hurt, and so I will say again:

There is nothing you can do to look any less beautiful or be any less loved.

There is nothing you can do to look any less beautiful or be any less loved.

I'm only trying to see you from the angle that my Father does

Remember

I took this from the To Write Love On Her Arms Myspace blog. It is a reminder that this three day weekend is more than fun, more than a break. It is a reminder to remember that there are things we cannot perceive until we've been there, and that people see these sights everyday. Remember our soldiers, our family, our friends, our neighbors.

Take some time this weekend to remember.

War is a very real thing.

If you feel free or safe tonight, know that it has come and continues to come at the highest cost.

Soldiers are people - they are us - and many have given their lives for our freedom and security.

This is not about politics. This is about people.

The ones that live, can we even imagine what they've experienced, what they've seen and felt and lost?

What does it mean to "go back to normal"?

How do they recover? How do they "let it go"?

This weekend, let's do better than "i don't have to go to work on Monday". Let's look beyond "Oh cool, a three-day weekend."

Take some time to consider the soldiers. The people.

Sons and daughters, brothers and husbands and wives. Someone's father or mother. Someone's uncle. Cousin. Neighbor. Friend.

They are the fallen and the fighting and the ones forever trying to make sense of "home". They are missed by millions.

Have a conversation. Say "thank you". Ask a question.

The day is meant for remembering. Not just the deaths but the lives and the living.

We live in a day with more distractions than ever before. More excuses. We make an enormous mistake if we fail to honor these people, if we fail to pause to consider and be grateful and be kind.

Take some time this weekend to remember. Remember someone you've lost. Remember all the different soldiers. Remember the things that matter and the things that are true.

Peace to you.
jamie"

Levi The Poet

"in

fact I'm a little scared sometimes that this is all in vain,

with a million little

mes running all over eternity it's no wonder my hope has such a bad name!

But I know, no matter how large a hypocrite, or how small my faith,

When you began to talk about perfection the way you talk about my pain

You became the seed inside that gave root to change!

And I pray every day that there is power in prayer,

And I hope with all my heart that my heart will find you there,

And if you're really bigger than my skepticism

Then how dare I compare the high I prescribe with the beauty you prepare?

I am a skeleton in a little fragile skin

But one soul could raise me up from this grave!

I am a

skeleton in a little fragile skin, oh, the end is heaven

and I want to be saved!

I am a skeleton in a little fragile skin,

It's so simple to give in

again and again,

I am a skeleton in a little fragile skin,

If you're really up there in those clouds then

Could you set me free from my…

SIN?"

-Oh Captain, My Captain

Levi The Poet

www.myspace.com/levithepoet