Archive for June, 2009

may my heart always be open to little

Posted by Trent on June 29th, 2009

I love poets. Poets seem to me to be totally useless and the key to everything in the universe all wrapped up in one. The way they can take a moment and describe it in such a way that you feel, taste and touch all that is mysterious and wonderful in the world deeply, amazes me every time. The best poems are like little sermons to me. Today this one sings to me like a chorus of happy drunks.

may my heart always be open to little
e. e. cummings

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

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best of me

Posted by Trent on June 26th, 2009

The band is working up a new song called “best of me.”  We might play it tonight if we feel like we have got it…..or if we have had 3 beers too many.  I have some close friends of mine who over the past few years seem to be surrounded by heartache.  They are really wonderful people undeserving of all of the terrible things that have happened around them.  The often try and be the rock and hide their own pain so they can help others.    I was thinking about them and when the first verse of this song came up.   Basically, the idea was how long can we be a rock, how long can we “be there” for people, how long can we hide our own broken heart before finally crashing.    The chorus is basically someone finally breaking down and crying out to God,  their lover, their husband or wife,  Jesus, the universe, whomever…..”you took the best of me and now there is nothing left of me.”

This is just a demo track recorded on a small recorder for band rehersals but  check it out.

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Best of me
Did you think I would never fall?
Like a mountain I would always stand tall
Did you think I was a stone?
That you could crash you words against my bones
Did you think I was lion, did you think I was a saint, did you think I was a statue without complaint

You took the best of me
And now there is nothing left of me
You seemed so surprised to see
That you took the best of me

Did you think I would never break?
Every wave I could embrace
Hold another dying hand
And not have my bleeding heart stain the sand.
Did you think I was ghost, did you think my skin was gold, Did you think I could lose so much and not grow cold

You took the best of me
And now there is nothing left of me
You’re too blind to see
That you took the best of me

Solo/bridge
Now I’m bleeding out
But you’ll never hear me cry out

You took the best of me
And now there is nothing left of me
you’re too blind to see
This world took the best of me

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City of Light

Posted by Trent on June 23rd, 2009

I have been having a hard time writing lately as I have touched on in another post but I keep showing up everyday with pen and paper to see if anything shows up.  A few weeks ago a song emerged and today while working on a post this story showed up.  I have been emailing back and forth several people who are going through grief, pain, lostness…etc.  I was thinking about them as I was trying to write.    I couldn’t figure out what to say but as I was trying to find the words a story about a boy came out instead.   

City of Light

A boy walks lost on a darkened road his flashlight shinning just enough to see his next few steps. He is searching for the city of light. He is hungry, alone and things emerge on the path that scares him. A tiger appears and he runs into the woods, in the woods he finds a clearing with berries, fruit and water. He stays in the clearing thinking he will sleep but mosquitoes and bugs bite his skin so he pushes forward through the woods and bushes. He can’t find his way out. He feels hopeless. He stumbles onto a girl in the woods. She looks at him with kind eyes, takes his hand and leads him to the path again.

He is grateful for the girl and they walk together but the boy grows impatient and wants to run. He wants to get where he is going so he runs and runs and runs….stumbling through the dark. The girl begins to fall behind. He can only hear her now in the darkness but he keeps running. He cannot keep up this pace. His stomach turns and he falls sick. He cannot move. His companion catches up. She fetches him water, wets his forehead through the fever, and makes him a bed on the road. Her kindness in the face of his helplessness changes him. A seed of light is planted and something in his soul opens up. He doesn’t feel like running anymore. He watches the bees on the flowers as she cares for him. He sleeps and emerges refreshed.

Together they walk for months and months. They are content with only seeing the next step. They cross a bridge over a charging river. The river sweeps the girl away. He jumps into the river after her. Swimming with all his might, his tears mix with the river that carries him, but she is gone. He pulls himself out of the water. He weeps for seven days. He has lost everything; his love, his flashlight, his friend. When his strength comes back he climbs the cliffs of the jagged canyon and begins to walk again in the darkness. He is leaner now, stronger, and focused. Even in the darkness he sees her kind eyes everywhere and in everything.

Out of the darkness comes a small child with a baby both hungry and cold. He discovers the light and love she gave him still burn hot inside him. The boy looks at them with the same kindness of the girl and takes them in. He gives them his coat, his food, his water, leads them by the hand and carries them both when they are tired. In turn they share their light with him.

The boy becomes a man along the path and raises the children. He feels the seed of light the girl planted in him growing; it is becoming a field, an orchard, a woods, a forest and all he wants to do is give it all away.  He no longer worries about his destination; his only concern is to care for the children and the garden inside him.

At a fork in the road the children, now grown, leave him.  No longer needing a flashlight he gives it to them, kisses them farewell and walks in the darkness.  As he walks away he sees the seed of light the girl gave him burning in them now and he smiles.   He is alone again.  His skin has become thin, almost luminous, his eyes are bright. He grows weak and tired but is overjoyed as he finds before him an enormous field of lillies.  He lays in the field staring up at the stars.  He thinks of all of the calamities and struggles that have lead him to this exact place, this field of flowers.  He stares up at the stars and as he does he feels his skin slipping into the soil and underneath his garden of radiance bursting forward.  A door opens in the dark sky and there before him the destination he sought when he set out so long ago.  With his last breath he puts his foot forward and enters the city of light.

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If she asks me I will say yes

Posted by Trent on June 9th, 2009

If she asks me I will say yes. 

I wait here quietly stealing underneath the covers.  There is a pattering of feet outside my door.  The boys are up and they are ready to jump, and crash, and run, and YELL with all of the fire that life demands of little boys. 

If she asks me I will say yes.

Beneath the noise and across the house she is lying in my son’s bed.  She doesn’t want to get up.  She longs for sleep as only mothers do.  She wants to sleep for at least a week.  She wants to wear the same pajamas every day and read books about woman in tiny wooden homes covered in snow in the forests of Maine.  She wants to spend long nights sipping wine and never hearing or saying a word.

If she asks me I will say yes.

“MOM!!!!!!!”  This lying in bed cannot last….they will make sure of it.  One of us will have to get up.  One of us will have to drag our feet to the kitchen and our beloved coffee maker.   Time is running out.  If one of us does not get up they will attack both of us and drag us both into consciousness without mercy. 

If she asks me I will say yes. 

I know I should just get up.   I know it is selfish.   I know grace would demand that I make no production of it but I like it when she asks.   I always have.  You see,  I like saying yes to her.   I like seeing what other doors in my heart will open when I say, “yes.”   And so I lay here smiling and wait…..and think

If she asks me I will say yes.

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