Oh, how He grows us!

It is such a joy to be able to look back on things I had written just over a year ago - all the hopes, dreams, and fears - and to see how God gloriously answers our prayers and speaks to our hearts. My last post on this blog, written just after we found we were expecting our first child, speaks totally into exactly what the last year and a half of my life has become.

First things first, that sweet baby we were expecting was a little GIRL! Her name is Loyce Kelly, and she just turned 10 months old last week. She came into the world two weeks past her due date, but in her own time. She had a fiery spirit, an inquisitive mind, and has brought more joy to Adam and I than I ever knew this world had to offer. Along with that, we made the decision that the best thing for our girl and our family was for me to stay at home. Funny, how even with working before when I posted about how different my life had become than what I expected, it has changed even more so since then!

Being a stay-at-home mom (with some babysitting of my good friends little boy and some geometry tutoring mixed in there) is a job I NEVER thought I wanted to have! I thought it would be so boring, such a wast. However, as so many of us learn when a little person comes along, I have never been busier in my life. Hands down the BEST job I have even had. Occasionally (ok, lets be honest, a lot of the time) I feel like I am going to go crazy spending my day wiping noses, changing diapers, making bottles, and pushing buttons so little toys can play the same song on what feels like eternal repeat, I have never been more satisfied. My soul is so happy when I think of all the moms who are at work, wishing they could be home. I have serious respect for working moms, because it is so much work to mold a tiny heart, it is so incredible to me that anyone has any energy for more!

In my last post I had written about how I longed to become a more loving, respectful wife. I feel like I have grown a lot in that area of the past year (of course I still have a looong way to go, but who doesnt?) and Adam and I are so happy in our marriage. We recently went to a marriage class through our church, which followed a book called "Sacred Marriage", written by Gary Thomas. The whole premise of the class is what I was barely beginning to understand last year, that our marriages are not designed by God to bring us happiness (though that is certainly and added benefit of sharing your life with someone), but rather to make us more holy. He talked about how our marriages shine a bright light on the darkness in our hearts and our souls, and help us grow to love more like Christ, to be closer to our Lord, and to really give of ourselves in the way the Father calls us to. SUCH a good class.

I think I have probably rambled enough for the time being, it feels good to put words down on virtual paper again. I make no promises to be a regular poster (remember those snotty noses and diapers?), but I do hope to at least occasionally come up with something worthy of writing, that hopefully speaks to someone else out there. :)

I seemed to have stopped writing in the recent years. I feel like writing is a window into our heart, and I have been unwilling to open that window and let anyone see in. I think I have felt disappointed in myself, or maybe that other people have been disappointed in me. I'm not totally sure why. I have a wonderful life, it is just so different than what I had expected my life to amount to. It's funny though, in an ironic sort of way, because I don't think that I would be happy in the sort of life I had imagined. I would feel alone.

I may feel many things about my career, my bank account, my life - but I am not alone. In fact I am the most together I have ever been. I cannot explain the blessing it is to be married and have someone fully know you. It is possible to hide your heart I suppose, but there is such a vulnerability in marriage like nothing else I have ever experienced. Literally every single decision you make affects another person. Whether it be what you make for dinner (if you even make it?), what time you get off work, if you pick up your clothes. You are required to be a lot less selfish. Let me tell you, it isn't easy. So many of the things I most get annoyed about around the house are really things I have been to lazy to keep up on, and I act in anger because I am angry. Angry that I can't be more perfect. As infuriating as that is at times, it is the most humbling experience. I thank God for putting Adam and I together in this marriage not just for all the wonderful things he brings into my life but also for the honest introspection is has required of myself.

With how much my marriage has changed the essence of who I am, I can only begin to fathom how much change this child (Due May 14th 2013) will bring. I pray that the Lord will prepare my heart for it. That I will be able to become a more gracious, loving, giving person than I am. That I might be humbled into a more honoring and respectful wife. These are areas that I struggle in daily and I hope to grow. Now I will not only be living for my Father, my husband, and myself, I will be living for my Father, my husband, my child, and myself. I have to remember who comes first and who comes last on that list. I have to remember that without my Father and my husband I would have no child. I will have to consider all of us before I make a decision because more and more there will be no "just me". I look forward to it with both fear and excitement. I can't wait to meet my child, and even more, to become a person they can respect and look up too.

I am not sure if any of this wordiness really has merit or interest to any others, but I felt like sharing my heart. I want to begin to open the window and to remember that happiness is not having what you thought you wanted, it is realizing how blessed you are by the things you never could have dreamed for yourself...

Challenges

Here it is, my first post from my brand new MacBook Pro. There is just something so freeing to me about typing on a laptop. I'm not 100% sure what makes it feel "special" or "different", there is just something about laptops that feels personal to me. I love how the keyboards feel too, I am able to type so quickly and freely and I just really enjoy it.

So far this post hasn't been terribly poetic. I suppose that's why my title is PROBABLY poetic, because things don't always have to be. Though, if you think about it, prose in and of itself is poetic. Kind of. Every piece is just a little bit different. Anyways...

I think I mentioned before how my friend Katie and I give one another "poetry challenges". We mail each other our latest poem and include a challenge for the other to write a poem. These challenges serve to stretch the imagination, and to keep us writing. Katie is great about them. I, on the other hand, am two behind. I have poets block. Or I just don't try. Or I try to hard. I'm not sure what my true reason is I just know that I haven't felt terribly creative lately, and this post is an attempt to correct that. So, here we are. The first challenge that she gave me is this:

"Write in the point of view of a type of person you are not (a type you are most unlike) (?Slutty girl, atheist, callous person?) This is not meant to be cliche or a satire, but try to realistically explore their psychological and spiritual landscape: we all see the top of the mountain, but what lies in the forest (if anything)?"

Man, Katie goes straight to the heart! Well, here goes nothing::

The Forest at the Mountain's Base

Sarrah Loyce

There is an anger at the top of the mountain

a brutal, bias voice.

It screams out of me, louder than a lion.

It is not my choice.

The rage within me bubbles out my mouth

frothy, foaming fury.

The anger so consumes me

that I can see nothing clearly.

So many bad impressions are made of

my anger, my wrath,

I am judged so harsh and rashly,

that it makes me catch my breath.

They call me crude and callous,

a mean, insufferable bitch.

But the truth is they don't know me,

they only catch a glimpse

of who I am.

I am a wealthy woman.

I am a mother too.

I am a fiery leader.

I am not a fool.

I have a painful history.

I have a story of loss.

And most of all, I have my reasons for being cross.

Do not presume to know me

or think that you could understand,

I'm guarded by my anger,

and I protect myself how I can.

I see the world around
the green, the glorious, the grand.
I also see pain and persecution,
treachery done by man, to man.

I am the forest lying
and the tall, noticed mountains base.
I am the truth behind it,
I am the emotion hidden behind that face.

Inspiration

So it has been quite a while since I have posted much on this blog. I love the idea of writing poems constantly but as of late I have been struggling with finding inspiration. My dear friend Katie sends me poetry challenges in the mail, but alas, I cannot seem to be inspired by them and it saddens me. I think it is in part because I have sort of cut myself off from my creative, inventive brain. When I go through hard stuff my instinct is to shut down, and to hide. I went through some really hard stuff this past year, and while I'd love to draw inspiration from that I still find myself quite anxious when I try. I worry I will share to much, give to much of myself away and become vulnerable. I guess that is really part of the thrill of written art, wondering who will see it, and how much they will glean from their limited knowledge of the subject matter. I don't know why I find the fear of sharing myself so paralyzing. A work in progress...for ever more I will be.

Here's a Fool For You

Here’s a Fool For You
Sarrah Loyce

If I had a penny for every brilliant thought,
I’d remain a penniless fool.
If brilliance is “distinguished
by unusual mental keenness”,
I’d rather remain a fool. “One lacking in common powers of understanding”.

I find it highly ironic; the oddity of the hated, of the praised
the fool is found uncommon;
the brilliant unusual and odd.
Both measured by their mentality, the capacity of the brain. The is no fool,
nor wise one.

Can I not be brilliant fool? Unusually keen in my lacking
of the common understanding?
Can I also be foolishly brilliant? My lacking common thought
to make me unusual and keen,
to uncommon understanding?

If you call a thought uncommon, a thought I may have had,
am I brilliant, or a fool? If you disagree,
a fool!
If not, my brilliance exceeds all before!
Ah, but who is really uncommon, if everyone agrees?
Who can be a brilliant thinker, if only having common thought? That would defy
the definition, and rend my thinking
common.

So what was it that I said, that supposedly “brilliant” thought?
Ah yes, it was common, like everyday chimney soot.
Hiding in every chimney, in every house, every living room.
Cleaning it out may be messy, intelligence, is only
willingness to hold a broom.
The effort, to pick through, the soot.

To get on hands and knees, to scrub.

Dirty, difficult.

So brilliance? Foolishness?
That’s just pretending you didn’t get it from the soot.

Well....it's been a while...

We finally accomplished our 10-month goal! Adam and I are now a Mr & Mrs. It's pretty exciting. We've moved and experienced a whole lot of life changes in the past few months. I love life, and love learning about how you do this whole marriage thing (it isn't as easy as it looks).

Anyways, I hope to be back at the poetry soon, or the blogging, or something other than just a random life update. But I figure that's good too.

Still job searching, but I hope I'll find something new.

Peace out
Sarrah

Facelessness

faceless

a figure standing
high heels - stilettos perhaps

threatening

an a-line skirt
with a business jacket

a model.

personality

a figure standing
tennis shoes - converse to be exact

cowardly

old navy jeans
with a t-shirt

ordinary.

the faceless
the centerfold
the model
dictates

the ordinary
the middle class
the human being
fears

the faceless.

is threatened by

the faceless.

ironically

the faceless

is fake.

the farce influences the genuine.
the genuine long for the farce

the fake

the dominant.

worthless.

media
lies
hypocrisy.

media makes the world
the society

it’s a fakeness

the faceless
the ordinary.

nothing matters.
nothing gives.
until the end.

the part beyond this place.

heaven.
the whole.
the holy.
the heavenly.
the surreal.
the unimaginable.

that’s what’s real.
that’s what awaits.

faceless. nameless. placeless.

heaven.


-Sarrah Loyce 4/13/10

Indifference

read
like a magazine

watched
like a tv screen

carelessly,
distractedly,

absent of a search for what it means.

-Sarrah Loyce 3/30/10

Created in His Image

Sometimes, I just can't see myself that way.


Eternal WIP, I suppose.

Love

Halfway through an engagement. Only five month until the wedding.

Scary, and awesome.


I'm so amazed by Adam's love.

2010

And thus begins a new year...

No words seem enough to describe the shift in my life since the beginning of 2009.

I...I can't even begin to think of what to say.

Dreams are becoming realities in 2010. I'm finishing my bachelors, I'm getting married, I'm growing up.


God, carry me through this year. Thank you for the blessing of the previous year.


I love you.

This is a lame blog

In short: we know more than our predecessors because we know our predecessors.

We are nothing without our own history.

Our history is Christs death.

An Age-Old Struggle

Typically, when I start to write, I have no idea what I want to say. Often I begin writing only because I have nothing better to do. For instance, the internet will not load for me this morning. What else should I do with my hour before classes? I already cleaned up the pile of clothes at the foot of my bed. I’ve gotten dressed, brushed my teeth. I’ve neglected to fix my hair, but that can wait until my roommate is out of the bathroom. So what am I to do, while I wait for it to be time to traverse campus, to study Russian, to read Candide? What do I have to say that’s worth anyone hearing? The only answer that I can think of, is something Adam said to me last night:

“God made you. He made you for me. Thus, you are beautiful in my eyes.
And in His eyes. And in the eyes of you friends and family.
And beauty, real beauty, is a lot deeper than skin. A lot deeper.”

I’m not alone when I say that I struggle with my appearance. Most women do, I think. No matter how many times people tell me I’m gorgeous, I end up letting Satan sneak in, and tell me something different. My face doesn’t match my body, one eye is a darker shade, I have three gray hairs, I weigh too much, nothing fits….I could go on for hours. There are a million excuses I find to make myself feel like crap. And it amazes me, that I have the ability to take any negative thought (and sometimes positive ones ), let my imagination run wild, and envision that I am the ugliest person in the world. How wrong, how very very wrong, is that?

Something I often tell people, is that “God makes no mistakes”. When life’s circumstances are uncertain, when situations go bad, we can be safe knowing, that God doesn’t make mistakes. We do. And the glory of that, is that God can take any of our mistakes, and use it to found a better future for both ourselves, and others we may never even know. So when I discredit my face, my hips, my thighs, my toes, I’m discrediting God’s handiwork. I’m tell him, that something he created – in his own image – is unworthy and unacceptable. I’m putting myself in a place I don’t belong, to say that God made me ugly. It’s a lie. God made me for a reason. For a purpose. For something a lot greater than a mirror. My body, is shaped the way God designed it to be shaped. If you have the same struggles as I do, let me reiterate:

God made you for a reason. For a purpose. For something a lot greater than a mirror.

We are all part of a glorious masterpiece, a work of art that surpasses the most brilliant of arts in the human world. Every one of us. Not just the skinny ones, or the athletic ones, or the blondes ones, everyone. I wish that I could say this ended the struggle for me, for you, for everyone. But it doesn’t. Our culture beats into our heads with every magazine, every fairytale, every ad that “thin is in”. Weight loss clubs and advertisements give us options to “get slim quick”, to “lose those last fifteen pounds”. And though physical fitness is a grand idea for anyone, taking care of yourself and your body means a whole lot more than being thin. I’ll continue fighting this battle, for the rest of my life. And I may never win. I may never look in a mirror everyday and see the beauty that shines through my body. But what I can be sure of, is that God has already won the battle in my place. And through him, I’ll find my peace.

---

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will
strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand”
-Isaiah 41:10

Something Beautiful

It's 12:30sm. I start classes tomorrow. Russian, at 9:30am. You know, I knew it was a mistake when I decided to take a nap this afternoon. I knew it was a mistake when I turned my alarm off. I knew that I'd never get to sleep tonight. But I did it anyways.

What I didn't realize, is that in the dark at night when you can't sleep, is the opportune time for Satan to plague your mind. Every insecurity and struggle I have is at the forefront of my mind, and it's oh so tempting to think those things. The beauty of that, is that God's right there too.

I hear him in Adam's voice, who calls for the millionth time to see if I'm okay. I hear him in the music I play on my iPod, I see him in the glass of milk I take from the fridge (hey, it's a comfort drink!). God is everywhere.

Let your love, fall down on me
Let your mercy set me free
Let your love fall down on me my God
Let your spirit fill me up
Lord let your glory be enough
Let your love fall down on me my God
'Cause I need you like each breath I take
Father hold me and keep me safe
Lord I'm asking you to cleanse my heart with love.


--

I thought that might make me tired. It doesn't appear to have that affect. It does calm my heart though. Because who can say any of that about Satan? He's pretty much just a lazy guy in red who jumps at peoples weaknesses to do his will. Funny thing is God is so opposite, He jumps at our weaknesses, sure, but he jumps at the chance to heal us. To give us his strength.

It's curious to me how much God wants us to succeed. How much he gives us every chance we need. We just kind of have to take him up on it. Quote I love

"...that does not mean that all roads lead to God, rather that God will travel all roads to find you..."


God loves us where were at. In the moment. It's not conditional. It's not, "be perfect and I'll love you". Dude, if it were like that I'd've been dead long ago.

God's a pretty chill guy. He doesn't care if your black, blue, green, yellow, straight, gay, bisexual, sexist, greedy, what have you. He paid for it all. "His wounds have paid my ransom". Yours too.

There are no requirements to receive his love other than to receive it. Let God do the dirty work, he wants to. He wants us to be happy, and share his awesome-ity with other.

Let's do it!


Man, I'm at a liberal college. I'm around a lot of people living without God's love. It breaks my heart everyday, because I see what they're missing out on. And it's sad. My life is no better than theirs, I've got the same trouble and issues and all that crap. But He's the difference. God is the difference between living in constant hell and earth and living with a purpose and a future far beyond what we can imagine.


God is good.


All the time.


Even when we can't sleep past midnight.


Yeah, this is totally random. No one's up and I'm not tired but i am tired. I figure if no one else, God is listening.


No matter how lonely I get, I'm not alone.



So I'm just here, waving wildly, fighting to let God love me wholly.



goodnight world.


Sarrah LOyce

Oh So Lovely

raindrops fall from the sky
as each tear drops from his eye
the Father who gave us his life
cries with His son tonight,

the son feels like his faith is fading
and like he can't climb out of this sin.
and he can't see that God's also crying
He's saving Him from dying
and he's teaching him to fight

the son,
broken,
cannot see it
but his Father's holding on tight.
He's not letting him go,
He's not letting satan step in.
He's got a plan that lasts,
lasts beyond,
beyond times end.

not far away,
light from a daughters eyes
starts to fade, it's fading away
she feels the weight of the world
and feels like her faith is starting to fold

but her Fathers still looking,
He hasn't forgotten
beyond her sight
His future is forming.

the dark cannot cover
it cannot pluck another
life from the Fathers plan.

in the dark the daughter hears someone
and as light fades, the son lifts up his face
and they find themselves together
within the Father's grace.

in spite of satan's lies
the father wills it
and he intertwines their lives.

she lifts a weary arm,
as he lights a tired light
neither son nor daughter
feel alone tonight.

as they softly embrace,
a smile fills God's fact
for He's known it all along.

the rain's no longer falling
as the glorious sun bursts forth
as they as they pull close together,
they hear their Father calling
and they let him fill the space
with His never ending grace

every gap within their lives
is filled with the Father's blood
all sin,
all satan,
is eternally washed away,
and they're relieved of their countless strifes.

they can live with Him forever
and share in eternal life.

-Sarrah Loyce - 9/11/2009

THE FRENCH FRY AND THE PLATYPIE

Kait, this is for you. Everything that happens has a purpose, and nothing is unknown to God’s eyes. There’s a will and a purpose for it beyond what you could imagine, and so all you’ve got to do is keep trusting in God. Sometimes, being certain of God means being uncertain with the way the world is, but trust me, you are a beautiful daughter of his, and he’s got incredible places for you to go. I love you chickadee. :)
- + - + - + -
A blank sheet of paper is daunting. I love to write, but I fear the words I have to say are not enough. Not well enough put, not fancy enough, not elaborate enough. I worry no one will know what I’m talking about. That my words will simply fill a void. Take up a space that no one notice. And sit in a dull, lifeless existence for all the time they grace this world. And it makes you wonder, is this how I see my own place in the world? Because my words, are very much me. I put my soul into my poetry, and I feel free to say things in a way I never could out loud. But I’m not fading as person, and as long as my words are mind, they aren’t fading either. Whether they ever become well known, or adored, or even if another human being never see’s them, that doesn’t diminish their value. There’s a simple invisibility in nearly everything we do.
Now, I haven’t a clue how those thought relate to these, but I figure as I write, it’ll come to fruition. I’ve been avoiding writing this blog for some reason I don’t even know. But everytime I’ve started, I’ve given up and turned away. The topic? “French Fry’s and Platypies”. Thank you Kait. You see the whole idea started at Dairy Queen. Kait and I went out for lunch, and we were talking about everything under the sun, plus some. At one point, Kait told me a BRILLIANT saying she’d heard, “If you ever doubt God has a sense of humor, look at a platypus”. It was great, funny, not to mention really actually true. As the conversation went on, we somehow got on the topic of how God works little things that seem unnoticed into big things.
I mean hey, the “big thing” here was that we both had food, in front of us, to eat. I went off on some tangent as I often do. I said, you know, think about where this food came from. I mean check it out right, you’re eating French fries (so am I). Those had to be cooked. Someone here cooked them. But you know, to cook, they had to be delivered, so someone brought them here. But they had to be packed to be delivered, so someone had to do that. But I mean, they had to be cut up to be made fries. So you know you had to have someone slicing potatoes. But the potatoes had to come from somewhere. And you know, we haven’t got a CLUE who EVER planted these potatoes, I mean if you wanted to you could maybe trace it back, but nobody ever would. But I mean knows, that person, who planted the potato to be cut to be packaged to be shipped to be cooked for us to eat could have been walking down the street by those platypie (yes, we made up the plural version) that God made, and heck, our French fries are connected to it.
So. What’s the point of all this humble jumble? I’m pretty sure my first concept has nothing to do with my second one. But you know, if you searched hard enough, you could find the connection (besides the fact that I wrote them both). Because isn’t that the point? That everything is related and interconnected. Maybe the French fries are not REALLY kin to any platypus down the road (though I like to think they were), God is sovereign over all of that. If he wanted them to be, they could and would be connected. There is no detail - no matter how insignificant it may seem - that God hasn’t accounted for LONG before it ever happened. My writing is no mistake. It’s not a secret. God knew what I had to say long before I even existed to think to say it. And that is pretty, freaking, amazing. Look for the little things God does in your life, that you might not notice. You could be amazed when you realize how well worked and intricate something so simple as a French fry could be.

Seperation Equals Enhanced Communication.

You know, God's been on my mind. I know what you're thinking, isn't he always? But not really. I am a typical human being, and tend to only really think about God when I need him the most. You see, God has always, always been in my life. I grew up learning about God, and I am so undeniably blessed to have that experience. As I was talking to a friend over lunch today, we were talking about how people who grow up with God seem to think that they don't have a testimony. But, as my wonderful friend put it, "God has no grandchildren, he only has children". At one point or another, your relationship with Christ has to move past what you were raised with, and become personal. You have to accept God as YOUR father, YOUR savior, YOUR truth. You can't completely rely on your parents or families experience with God, YOU must experience God.

Another wise young woman I know wrote recently about her realization that being a follower of Jesus means LITERALLY following Jesus, not just believing in him. Action is key in our relationship with Christ, and you must seek him out. So when I say God is on my mind, I mean I feel the desire to continually seek him out, to search for God, not to just let him be a viewer in my life...not that God would content himself to sit on the sidelines anyways.

I began to understand this difference in London. It was the first time I have truly been on my own with God. My roommate was not a churchgoer, and I couldn't go home on the weekends to go to church with mom and dad. If I didn't seek out a church, or seek out Christ, it wasn't happening. Period. So the first week I didn't go to church, I didn't really even think about God come Sunday. I just let things be what they were. Luckily God was smart enough to nudge me in the right direction, and my host mom asked me if I wanted to attend church here because I mentioned it in my letter to them, so she told me about all the different churches and this and that. So the next Sunday I went, mostly because I was afraid of what my host parents would think if I didn't. It was scary to go to a church where I knew no one, alone, in a foreign country. But I did, and instantly felt a desire to keep going.

And as life kept going, the little tiny flame for Christ started to blaze in a way I hadn't really experienced before. I hadn't brought a bible with me, so I started a search for one (side note, the new international version is not very big internationally, haha). This lead me to talk to other people in the group, and realize there were other believers with me. I remember feeling an unquenchable thirst to read 1 Corinthians so I borrowed a girls bible while she was in class, and just soaked in the glorious work of God. I then felt a need to read the Shack, so my search continued. Eventually I found both a bible and the book, and read through them in a short period of time.

I have never felt so full of God. Being separated from my comfort zone gave me the chance to see just how much I need and want him in my life. To see just how much my relationship with him is about him and I, not the church and him. I need to be included in it. I need to be in constant communication. I need to surrender to God. I need to pray to God. Church is a fabulous, wondrous thing, but it's not everything. I still gladly attend church on Sundays, and I commune with other believers, and I learn about God. But in London my relationship transformed from secondary to personal. And it's so much the better for it.

God is all about love.


And I am in love with God.

The Ending of an Epic Journey

I leave London tomorrow. It's truly a bittersweet thought. I am so incredibly thrilled to come home and see my family and friends and all of that, but. You know, London has become a home. And Tina, Stefan, Caspar, and Katie have become family. I have grown inexplicably in the time that I've been here, in terms of education, personality, and faith. I've learned a good deal more than the program sought to teach, and I've had the experience of a lifetime. I will take every person and every moment that I have encountered here back to the US with me, and I will have a broader perspective of the world.

Thank God for foreign study.


If God calls you too, GO.

Entertaining Kafka's Waiting

It's a combination of idea's from three plays..."Entertainng Mr.Sloane", "Kafka's Monkey", and "Waiting for Godot". Work in progress, but I'm posting what I have....enjoy.


Entertainng Kafka's Waiting
"Ladies and gentlemen of the academy",
three voices create one sound.
Different, yet connected.
"All I know is that the hours are long",
can one entertain my wait?
"he loves me", she says,
but do they know that is not true?
they entertain my wait.
As "I account my former life, as an ape"
"I don't seem to be able to...depart"
I guess I wait for a newer life to start
but "we're waiting" always always.
"you wouldn't put me away, would you"?
you wouldn't let my stories go to waste.
"I'm impressionable"
so entertain me
let me speak my story so long
because we wait, we wait.
and you entertain my wait.
"saved from what?"
"we are all born mad, and we remain so"

The Other Conversation

When class discussions get boring, I listen for things that people say without saying. Here is a combination poem of about 10 minutes of conversation. It's all taken completely out of context, but funny how you can make a poem out of it none the less.


The Other Conversation
Language substituting for props.
"I bite my thumb at you, sir"
Remember? Yeah, it's coming back.

It's especially her field.
It depends, says she.
Does that make sense to you?
Can you make a connection of that?
Well, yeah. A little confusion of absence,
they may be in the same time of creation...
but that's not.

It's written in more of a tradition,
this is teetering on the grounds,
it's more simple stories.

Buckle up, she says,
there were two takes of the play.

They were featured so heavily,
that gives you a sense of the reverence.
He had a circle of people around him,
at the time called a work in progress.
The afternoon would go on.

No, no, leave it in.
He had an embrace of chance.
Demanding, in terms of demands.

I think definitely the language,
this is an old for of new.
The simplicity of it, the everyday of it,
I think that's modern.

Is every edition just like this?
He wants the text to speak for itself.
They are all kind of sparse...
apparently.

He hung onto the script,
one of the interesting things.
Historically, he was blocked.

They're fabulous,
it's doodling.

Language is one of the modern things,
the poetic language and philosophical scpiel.

Not just the very man.
Nothing happens twice.

Just going with that...
that's it.
Sarrah Loyce, 26 May 2009