the-word-of-god

I have been eavesdropping

On your conversation with God

I heard that your heart cannot bear

The weight of tears that have been shed

Like the ground you walk on

Has turned into an ocean

As you drown in the very depths

Of your stolen bliss

From a love that was never there

I heard that you were angry at Him

Because you feel like He took it away

You even said that you might take

A darker path
because you feel forsaken

Like the fog has thickened in your eyes

And you cannot see clearly

My dear, you were so distraught

Because you think love

Was never yours to have

You proceeded to talk about

How you prayed and prayed

Because you believed in its power

But when it never came to you

You easily gave in to the sorrow

And grief quickly snatched you

Like a thief or a wolf on the hunt

My darling, I do not mean to intrude

But love already heard your heart

Your hurts and your tears all laid

Before His feet and is already

Making you more than you are now

The pain maybe deep

But love is

above and beyond understanding
He knows your heart
better than anyone

There is more to you

The rain that you feel

Is the healing that you need

It kisses you like a mother to child

He kisses you with hope

In the form of

Morning greetings from the sun

And the chorus of birds flying

The air that brushes your hair

And the strength you gain

When you breathe it in

My dear you are loved you see

And please hear me when I say

That there will never be a day

Without a storm chasing you

But you must know

That love is already with you

It is already making you more

I truly believe in you

—  Daughter, should you ever lose your way // Pablo Verzosa

…he has no words. all his shits have gone elsewhere to lala land. good luck, aoko.

It’s been three days and I don’t know what to do because every time I eat I throw up and I know all the rules now like play music and turn the fan on so they can’t hear you and brush your teeth and scrub the toilet afterwards. and this hasn’t become a problem yet right? because I can’t ever quite empty out my stomach completely and I still need a bit of recovery time afterward because I look like a mess and it’s only happened three times so tell me how far it has to go before it’s too far. tell me how far I’m allowed to sink before it’s dangerous, tell me how much is too much, tell me when I’m supposed to stop.

if I know what I’m getting into does that make it okay?
i want to know that I can stop but it’s been three days and already I’m not sure I could.

—  Oh my god what am I doing to myself

well, i did it. i ever so sneakily steered the discussion toward the supreme court’s decision on marriage equality and gauged her opinion. she was in the “well, christians aren’t supposed to do it, but we don’t control the world, and everyone who wants to stop gay people from marrying needs to get off their fucking high horse already.” but i chickened out and put it off until after we saw “inside out” (super cute btw). then in the car on the way home, i told her that my “small group” was actually a support group for gay christians. and i started crying. she asked me some of the standard questions (how long have you known? does anyone else know?) and she said she loved me, and that nothing could change that. she hugged me and it was okay. i feel really good about it. i think she’s going to be a good ally to have on my side.

“Pole Dancer
She pole dances to gospel hymns.
Came out to her family in the middle of thanksgiving grace.
I knew she was trouble
two years before our first date.
But my heart was a Labrador retriever
with its head hung out the window of a car
tongue flapping in the wind on a highway going 95
whenever she walked by.

So I mastered the art of crochet.
and I crocheted her a winter scarf
and one night at the bar I gave it to her with a note
that said something like,
I hope this keeps your neck warm.
If it doesn’t give me a call.

The key to finding love
is fucking up the pattern on purpose,
is skipping a stitch,
is leaving a tiny, tiny hole where the cold is
and hoping she fills it with your lips.

This morning I was counting her freckles.
She has five on the left side of her face, seven on the other
and I love her for every speck of trouble she is.

She’s fricken awesome.
Like popcorn at a drive-in movie
that neither of us has any intention of watching.
Like Batman and Robin
in a pick-up-truck in the front row with the windows steamed up.
Like Pac man in the eighties,
she swallows my ghosts.

Slaps me on my dark side and says,
“Baby, this is the best day ever.”
So I stop listening for the sound of the ocean
in the shells of bullets I hoped missed
to see there are white flags from the tips of her toes
to her tear ducts
and I can wear her halos as handcuffs
‘cause I don’t wanna be a witness to this life,
I wanna be charged and convicted,
ear lifted to her song like a bouquet of yes

because my heart is a parachute that has never opened in time
and I wanna fuck up that pattern,
leave a hole where the cold is
and fill it everyday with her sun,
cause anyone who has ever sat in lotus for more than a few seconds
knows it takes a hell of lot more muscle to stay than to go.

And I want to grow
strong as the last patch of sage on a hillside
stretching towards the lightning.
God has always been an arsonist.
Heaven has always been on fire.
She is a butterfly knife bursting from a cocoon in my belly.
Love is a half moon hanging above Baghdad
promising to one day grow full,
to pull the tides through our dessert wounds
and fill every clip of empty shells with the ocean.
Already there is salt on my lips.

Lover, this is not just another poem.
This is my goddamn revolution.
I am done holding my tongue like a bible.
There is too much war in every verse of our silence.
We have all dug too many trenches away from ourselves.
This time I want to melt like a snowman in Georgia,
til my smile is a pile of rocks you can pick up
and skip across the lake of your doubts.

Trust me,
I have been practicing my ripple.
I have been breaking into mannequin factories
and pouring my pink heart into their white paint.
I have been painting the night sky upon the inside of doorframes
so only moonshine will fall on your head in the earthquake.

I have been collecting your whispers and your whiplash
and your half hour voice mail messages .

Lover, did you see the sunset tonight?
Did you see Neruda stretch out on the horizon?
Do you know it was his lover who painted him red?
Who made him stare down the bullet holes
in his countries heart?

I am not looking for roses.
I want to break like a fever.
I want to break like the Berlin Wall.
I want to break like the clouds
so we can see every fearless star,

how they never speak guardrail,
how they only say fall.”

—  Pole Dancer~ Andrea Gibson

Card castles pieced
One by one
Sand castles molded
In the bright sun

I must admit that I
Would build you a fortress
So let my words
Be turned into a palace
Fit for a queen

And I don’t mean
Mansions and villas
With a view of the ocean
No, something worth more
My love in slow motion

It’s something I have decided
Something I knew was right
For my heart cannot hide it
To love you I just might

—  To my future wife, seven // Pablo Verzosa
Black Man Arrested After Admitting to Posting Racist Signs Outside Black Churches

A Colorado Springs, Colo., man was arrested Tuesday after admitting to local station KRDO that he was the one who posted racially charged signs outside two churches and around the city, KRDO reports. Vincent Broughton, who is black, faces charges of committing a bias-motivated crime, disorderly conduct, harassment and littering, the news site notes. The signs were first put up outside New…

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