“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” – Roy T. Bennet

Posts tagged ‘words’

Language

I can’t help but be drawn to languages. Communication and the fine use of words are beautiful things. It bothers me when people do not care about the language they are speaking. A lot of people only speak half a language; they speak a watered-down version of English, full of crass and mispronounced verbalizations. I understand that upbringing plays a large part in this, but then there is also the world of the Internet in which many people get lazy. From laziness comes a lack of care which becomes a bounty of grammatical errors. I am not perfect in this as I also grow lazy with my words.

My mom read to me and my five brothers when we were younger. She has always had a compelling storyteller voice, and even as we grew older, we would still listen in as she read to the younger kids. This brought a love of books to our family. We would collect series and try to read books before anyone else got to them. Our favourite series was the Redwall series, written by a man named Brian Jacques. We would take his fantastical stories to the backyard and pretend to be talking mice and otters and foxes. Even as an adult I am sure I would still play those games if it were societally acceptable.

I was lucky to have the childhood I did. I can speak and write and I hold a desire to learn inside of me. There are those, however, that never were given the chance. Kids drop out of school, dread homework, can’t even add sums or multiply simple numbers. It’s a hard world for learning, but I must reiterate: the language you speak is important. It is the difference between a high-paying career and minimum wage. It is the difference between forgiveness for a ticket and an instant fine. This is a prejudice but oftentimes a truth. We can use language to our advantage. After all, it is what convinces a nation to vote for a president, to believe what they read, and to take a single comment as complete truth. The moment someone types your instead of you’re, their opinion is instantly disregarded. It matters.

While I intend to complete my knowledge of the Spanish language, I am still learning the English language. There are words that I have never heard or have never dared to utter for fear of mispronunciation. English is complex and brimming with rules and exceptions to these rules. I occasionally bend these rules for the sake of rebellion and/or poeticism. All in all, maybe I simply wish for everyone to have the same draw toward their own language. Perhaps then our communication wouldn’t be so lacking.

 

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Music

i feel limited by the

instruments i try to play

their sounds are not what i wish to hear

my hands do not itch for frets or keys

they wish to be empty, with ease

so that i can dance

i only want to dance

and sing and not worry about

finger placements

musicians, brothers and friends, make me feel

less

as though my singing alone accounts for

nothing

always making comments about

female musicians – as though it is rare

for a woman to be talented

and so i feel less of a woman for not

desiring to be so

i just want to dance with words

be free in movement, in voice

experiment with falsetto and harmony

explore the reaches of the human instrument

-for this makes me live-

but i do not feel alive

when i am obligated to strive

with wood and metal

such pretty objects

but they hold no fire for me.

What Hurts

IMG_1490Pain was necessary to make me who I am. Even though sometimes the thought of what I’ve gone through is crippling, I know for a fact that it was the turning point for my becoming. Without pain, I would never have held a relationship to the wild step of marriage. Without pain, I would never had given it my all to birth a child. I wouldn’t have the determination that I have now to experience life to its fullest. But, oh, how it hurt at the time.
When a fifteen-year-old finds herself at the mercy of two grown men, so many things can happen. I could have died. I could have been abducted, sold, lost. I was violated but so much worse could have occurred in that moment. I survived to have a family and a life of potential. It killed me then, but it drives me now to love beyond reason the harshest of humans.  Somehow I still see the light in this world.
In the year following that moment, I was dark in my soul. My mind shouted and my nails were used to scratch red, bloody words onto my skin. I wrote horrible notes to myself where no one would see them. To me, I was nothing. Ruined. A whore. I kept my dark secrets buried and let them simmer and shape me into a bitter cynic. I felt ugly, inside and out. And to me, every man, both young and old, wanted me as a toy to play with and then leave in the dirt.
What changed this horrible mindset? I had a mental disease that was eating away at my core. Whatever could possibly heal me of it?
There is a love that reaches deep into your heart and strengthens it and fills it where it once was empty. I may yet be cynical but I believe wholeheartedly that there is a God that mends the broken mind and drives us to live again. He let me realize that the darkness in me was my soul crying to be whole. I was not abandoned or ruined or the putrid heap I thought I was. I was loved. I was beautiful.
I hope that in my sharing of this there will be someone that will understand. Do not allow those that hurt you to win. You can still stand strong and tall and live life wonderfully. I hope you find the healing that I did. I hope you have better days. I hope you grow old with your family and can look back to see that pain only made you tougher and didn’t cripple you. You may still cry or flinch at little things but it will get better over time. Survive. Do not dwell on the past, as it cannot change, but it can change you for the better if you’ll allow it.

My Pen Broke

walk slowly

take your time

because there will always be time to take

no matter what your circumstance

no matter who you are

whether you enjoy the dark

or you run from it

whether snow seems harsh and cruel

or the warmth of summer too demanding

there is a life to be lived

you choose

there is a life to be lived and you know what to do to live it

you take a step and then another

and those are just the basics

you can always take another if you want to

there are no backward steps

there are different steps to similar paths

but there is no going back to what already was

that is life

life is future and confusion molded into one

but what is the worth of confusion

when you act upon it, confused?

time doesn’t waste

it cannot be wasted

it spaces itself and yields nothing

so take life

and live it well

take time

and use it well

walk slowly

because there will always be time to take

Take Oceans With You

take oceans with you

so you don’t run dry

paper all around you

fold and fly

don’t waste the world

don’t change the sky

 

brother wake life has begun

and go to sleep with one eye shut

you don’t want to miss a

single thing

 

take pictures with you

so you don’t lose touch

daydreams are better

but that’s enough

don’t waste the sights

don’t change the lights

 

brother wake life has begun

don’t you want to see it all?

you’ve never walked upon this earth

you shouldn’t waste a

second more

That Broken Harmony

People.
Have you ever noticed how different we all are? Even people that are similar have differences. We dress different, give our bodies our own flair. Celebrities try to be each other, we try to be them, and yet we cannot. Do you know why? Because we can never be the same as someone else. We are not clones cut from the same mold or the same exact ingredients. Even children are different from those who made them. There are changes in personality, changes in the way they walk, differences in what they prefer to eat. Twins, the people who are the closest to each other, are different. None of us is like another.

Still we try.
We shape our bodies and our faces to be like people we know. Mass groups are changing themselves, compromising their images to be false. Why do we do it? What have we to gain? We have so much to gain from being unique. From each person we can learn. We all have thoughts and words ready to break forth out of our lips. Our ways are our signatures, the signatures that we leave behind when we walk out of a building. They leave people wondering, wanting to know more about us. Our differences hold the interest of those we meet. They are what make friends and enemies and rumors and job offers. Without these, life is lifeless, colorless.

Can you see the sparks?
Leaping off our faces and out our eyes, surrounding our sighs with light and laughter.  Those are our desires and feelings. Those are me, drinking  my coffee without any sugar. Those are you, drinking your coffee with several spoonfuls. Those are the world, preferring one movie over another, one fabric over another, one topping over another.  Those are also the pain that each of us feels. The reason a father hurts his family and the reason a friend betrays a brother.

Without.
Without.  We are purposeless, gray matter amidst rainbows. Nothing we do can change that we are not alike. Hello, you. It’s me, a person. I am not you. You are not me. Now let us be friends in that broken harmony. 

Untitled

with your eyes shut tight

and the book held close

you walk the halls

and appear to most

a religious fool

an overzealous man

but you keep on walking

and you let them stare

your lips may move

but no words come out

and they all wonder

what you pray about

and they hope the God

they don’t believe in

will listen if you’re

praying for them

you sit outside

and watch them leaving

and listen to their

silent suffering

and they laugh at you

to hide the trembling

and they whisper

so you cannot hear them

your lips may move

but no words come out

and they all wonder

what you pray about

and they hope the God

they don’t believe in

will listen if you’re

praying for them

© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

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