Category: General

Bed and Breakfast

Jeremy Flynn was 7 miles from the Tennessee State line when he remembered the livermush and Cheerwine. He immediately took his foot off the gas, but it was too late: the sign for exit 7 was already swishing past him. He accelerated again and started looking for another road sign. Karen wanted the livermush for something she was making for the wedding. Jeremy didn’t know why she insisted on doing all the food preparations for her own wedding–her parents were more than willing to contribute whatever was necessary. But some strange manifestation of Southern pride had convinced her that she was the only cook for the job. He sincerely hoped the Cheerwine wouldn’t end up in the punch. Continue reading “Bed and Breakfast”

Comments

It’s amazing all the comments I’ve been getting lately. Apparently I’ve wowed you guys so much with all the things I have to say that nobody feels there’s anything left to cover.

Or it could be that stories and poems are difficult to comment on and that if I want comments, I should enter something more personal. My mom gets on to me for the same thing. She complains that she knows I’m alive because I send her poetry, but she doesn’t know how I’m doing because I don’t talk about events in my life. And she’s right. Events in my life are the most boring thing I could ever imagine. The big news for me? I have a paper due tomorrow and I wasted all day yesterday without even touching it. I did my laundry, cleaned my room, went out with my friend and her dad (that was a requirement, he was in town to pick up stuff, and well… c’mon! the man has a right to meet his future s… I mean that uh… well anyway), then I played video games until 12:30 or something. I’m lazy and I me for it.

Now, back to my poetry…

I’m taking this class on how to go to Ireland and England. Basically, we talk about history and culture and stuff and it’s pretty cool except for the annoying papers. They had a required paper on a list of subjects (every paper had to be different so we could read them to each other) and each paper had to be 2-3 pages with 5 sources. Has anyone here ever tried to write a 3 page paper using five sources? Mine was 6 pages. Then they add on a paper if you miss a class. I missed 1 class and I still haven’t done that paper. It’s due about a month ago.

That said, one of our requirements for the class was a map test. I did fine on it, but I couldn’t find the River Liffey. So I made up this little ditty…

The Liffey runs through Ireland,
and down to Dublin Sea,
and licks the feet of everyone
who would remember me.

I can see my Mary cryin
as she kneels upon the shore
groaning like the first day
that she heard I’d come no more
And there’s my brother Charlie
A standing like a man…

And there’s where I stopped because it’s pretty morebid and I coudln’t figure out where to go with it.

And tha’ts you’re weblog for the day.

KB

There Is a Place

There is a place
Beyond the edge of morning
Where words mean more
Than ordinary things
There’s the place
Where tomorrow has no meaning
And I can go
To dream and dream and dream

A place beyond my worries
Where I don’t have to care
A place beyond mere happiness
A place beyond mere fear
A place where I can listen
To my own heart beating
And know that someone else
Is very near

No One Ever Knew

Two swimmers met in a pool one day,
And one of them was drowning.
The other was afraid.
The drowning swimmer was the better of the two,
And the lesser wished to swim away.
“If his strength has been made weak,” he said,
“What can my weakness do?”

He began to drift away.
The drowning swimmer never looked.
No one ever new.

Two swimmers met in a pool one day,
And one of them was drowning.
The other was afraid.
The drowning swimmer was the better of the two,
And the lesser wished to swim away.
“If his strength has been made weak,” he said,
“What can my weakness do?”

But he screwed up all his courage,
Dove him down and swam;
So the stronger swimmer lived
By pushing down his friend.
And as he climbed to shore and looked
He saw his brother, caught
In the pull that held him too.

He looked away.
He told his friends,
“My brother died today.
I was at the shore and could not save.”

Two swimmers met in a pool one day,
And one of them was drowning.
The other was afraid.
The drowning swimmer was the better of the two,
And the lesser wished to swim away.
“If his strength has been made weak,” he said,
“What can my weakness do?”

But he threw aside all thought of courage
And held fast to love;
He called himself already dead,
And down he dove.

The stronger swimmer lived that day,
Saved not by strength, but by a friend,
And moved by grace he looked at him,
Breathed deep his breath, and dove again.

Then on shore they lay,
Each grasping for his breath,
And when he’d caught it, first the one
And then the other left

Neither spoke a word.
No one ever knew.

The Legend of the White Gate

There’s a legend in our village, I don’t know how old it is. Sure it was an old story when I was a boy. There was this great city that stood on this very spot. No one knows any longer the name of that city, it was so long ago, but we know that it was called “The First of the Great Cities of the South.” That’s a very strange thing because, as we recon it, this village is in the northern part of the country. Continue reading “The Legend of the White Gate”

Deep The Well

When my sons were first born, I thought I should be a happy man. I mean: five! Who could not help but be a happy man?! My darling Rebecca, she gave birth to five boys all at once. Well, not all at once: it took her all the night. But right in a row, she gave them. Five to me! I thought I should burst! But my darling Rebecca, after giving me so much, she gave up the last thing she had left, and she died before I even had her in my arms. And then, again, I thought I should burst. I could not hold back from weeping. Five sons or no, how could I ever survive without her?

Five sons! That’s a big job now. And not a woman in sight! That’s another one. And plus, it’s not easy, living as we do. I’m not a wealthy man, though I’m not a poor one. But it’s hard, being who we are, and surrounded by so many people who don’t know. We have to hide it. No one must ever know the magic I have inside of me, or the secrets I’ve been entrusted with. No one must ever know about the Well. Continue reading “Deep The Well”

Lovesick

There is no one who is beautiful enough
To fit the needs of someone
Who has looked too long at You.
Why do I keep looking out for love
When I know that there is no one
Who’s as wonderful as You?

Lord, bind my heart in brokenness
Stir me on to peace
Wrap me up in linen, that I may
Resign myself to living
Here with You forever
Loving no one else but You

I have given myself over
To the mercy of your hand
If you have seen the way that Love has gone
Lead me to that Rock that’s Higher

That I too may be poured out
as a drink offering to You
Fresh blood mixed with the water of my tears
I am broken… for love
I am living… for You
You are what I’m living for, my Love

Keep my wandring heart from looking
To the left or to the right
Wrap my heart in brokenness that I may
See my love tonight
You are . . . what I . . . long for
Every . . . time I . . . close my . . . eyes

Keep me patient as I wait for you, my love

I Was Born For This

I was born for the sake of running
That my footbeats would fall to the sound of Your rhythm
I was born for the sake of breathing
That I could send Your wind
I was born for the sake of living

That my crystal heart could shine
With the candle that You set burning
That every heartbeat would pulsate
With living fire

The glory of God has come
I was born for this