Stopped at a red light,
Looking down the hill,
We wait to take flight,
We wait for the thrill.

Riding the green light wave,
Riding the small bumps and holes,
My bike and I roll down the way,
My bike and I roll as one soul.

The wheels turn quicker and quicker
While the air flies past like sweet sound.
My bike light continues to flicker,
While together we, in our music, are drowned.

There's a level of trust between us two,
We listen to each other and feel as one.
And yet there's a sense of mystery that we pursue,
That of machine and man having fun.

and the light of the
empty parking
garage

casts shadows of
delirious days
before
me

thank God
there is light to
see the shadows

rain or shine
i shan’t not decline
the desire to ride
nor indoors abide

the sun flickers upon his hand
and thoughts of the past flicker upon his mind
no time there is for school or band
when sadness, lies, and regrets are behind

freedom from all thoughts is his prayer
but that is not possible for now
he fears this time he can not bare
but he must trust Him somehow?

the pink gloves rest softly on the table
And the sun drifts softly across the heart unstable

Thank you God for existing,
Thank you for the beautiful trees.
Thank you for persisting,
And thank you for creating me.

Words can not describe,
The new joy I have in You.
What can I fear with you by my side,
Caring for me when I am most blue?

I hear snores from my roommate,
And see first light of day.
So I sit here and contemplate,
What next I could say.

Perhaps only time will show,
What You have upon me bestowed.

...
That feeling just before
The nervousness that swells
Inside you just before
The butterflies that tell
You of feelings just before
You call the beautiful girl
Who laughed just before
You walked into the door
Which was closed just before
You walked up to see her
And you smiled just before
Your eyes met in joy and peace

Just before

Just right there before, listen.

Lines he creates upon the street
As his thoughts he tries to flee

Criss-crossed and jagged
Prayers they are staggered

night stroll through downtown

soft breezes interrupt thoughts

as the wind tries its best to sound

its own story of why it's caught

It
is
  over
   but
    there
     will
      always
       be
        a
          shred
           of
            pain
             when
              our
               eyes
                meet

Someday
I'll be with someone else
Who I'll love more
Than I ever loved you
More than I ever dreamed of loving you

Someday
You will find someone
Who will love you more
Than I ever did
More than I ever dreamed of

Someday
Your memories of me
Will be like those of high school
There, but nowhere near the front
I'm just the guy who loved you in and after college.

Someday
My pain will go away
And I'll have new prayers to pray
You won't be on my mind,
You'll be hard to find
You'll no longer be inside

But right now it hurts
Like a splinter I can not pull out
And right now it is here
Like my reflection in a lake
I've seen before

Someday
You'll be nothing but
Small smiles

I can not cry enough years full of tears
To make that day come sooner,
But I can put paint on walls all night
And pray to God all day

And hope that something will change
That I'll be able to say
More than "Goodbye" to you
someday

Beautiful poetry from everyday poets
Beautiful music from professionals
Beautiful sunlight against swaying leaves
Beautiful movement outside the window
Beautiful simplicity in the dried leaf in my journal
Beautiful smiles from the bar tender

Beautiful time in the waiting,
waiting for eyes to look upon beauty with me.

I sit and eat my sandwich
Under a tree shading me from the sun.
A few pass me by on the path less traveled
Yet a path more beautiful

A fly wants my sandwich and my water
And I wave my hand and send him off.
But he persists.
Finally I give him a piece of lettuce and then a piece of *******.
He absolutely loves it, walking all over and ******* the water.

He thanks me as he crawls on my arm.
And goes back for another bite.

I write this poem and he looks on from my had,
As if rejoicing in the fact that he is noticed.
He circles and walks around, watching me write.

He thanks me again and takes flight.

I think,
after reading my work,
The best compliment I could receive
Would be the kind without words;
The kind where, as you finish reading the last word,
You slowly close your eyes and smile.
Nothing more.

The water
Moves like
Silk upon
An unmade bed,
Which held
A couple in love
The night before.

The water
Shines like
Blue gold,
Worn by
A recently crowned
Queen.

The water
Sings like
The last
Performance
Of an
Under-appreciated
Musician at the
Bar down
The road.

air turns to water
and dirt turns to mud
as my feet walk along the broken floor
I turn my eyes downward

my mouth opens to speak
but only a broken cough is let out
words I can not form
to give justice to this pain of letting go

the rain slows
and the clouds shatter in the sun
my eyes blinded by the sound of light
and I for once find the words to say

with eyes closed and heart beating
the tear, my friend the tear,
sheds from my eye
and is with me as I say

what my God wants to hear
that which I cry out
with a broken voice
my heart whispers what I say

this that the canyon echoes
the sad sound of my beauty
which waits to be released
so that I can say

You are my God!
You love me!
You are with me always!
You are always yearning for my heart!
You are my protector!

and though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil
for You are with me oh my God!

They run and run and run
It seems, with little time to feel the sun
And yet, what they have begun
Is something that can easily be undone.

Dodging the trees here and there
They run through this thick and heavy air.
An end to this overgrown forest do they give silent prayer
But little do they know that they’re on the path to despair.

They hide from the sun’s bright
For they know not of its delight,
And instead they run to the darkness on the right
Thinking they will find some light.

However, their path is crooked and steep
As they run through the forest deep.
They are like lost sheep
Not realizing they need to awake from their sleep.

They see others running passed the trees
Dodging them with ease.
They wonder what makes the others so pleased
To be running through this breeze.

The others also fall down,
But they get back up and help those around.
While they run through darkness abound,
The others run through bright clearings round.

not enough words, ink or time to describe You.
Jesus, You are…

****

Stress
Relief
Fun
Sorrow
Exhaustion
Hope

If only he would listen
To that which is true
He would for once glisten
And not feel so blue.

If only he would hear
The simple beauty
In each moment here
And appreciate it truly.

If only he would let go
Of that which is killing him
Each day is another blow
Instead of a hymn.

Brighter days will come
He believes they will, or else he's dumb.

Outside the windows I see
Some powerful force
That moves the tall trees
And through it the birds fly their course.

Although we can not see the wind
We can feel it around us
Although we sing beautiful hymns,
We can not fully describe this.

The wind moves us like nothing else,
The Holy Spirit moves us like nothing else.

You try to make me see
The height to which I’ve climbed,
To make me afraid of being free
And to forever rid me blind.

But I’ve got somethin’ for ya;
You ain’t got nothin on me!
This height is

Here lays God's creation
Laid to rest for eternity.
He is now in separation
From the world's insanity.

He sang his heart for all to hear
And to praise God's name.
May we all sing with the same cheer
To bring about God's fame.

Knowing that your time is finite
And death can come today
Live it with ultimate delight
Like this here blue jay.

the sun flickers upon his hand
and thoughts of the past flicker upon his mind
no time there is for school or band
when sadness, lies, and regrets are behind

freedom from all thoughts is his prayer
but that is not possible for now
he fears this time he can not bare
but he must trust Him somehow?

the pink gloves rest softly on the table
And the sun drifts softly across the heart unstable

needing to touch the world
my hand felt the handrail as I walked through the clean mall.

she carries her new-born in her arms
like I carried flowers back then

I walk to the right or her, away from the rail.
she walked slowly, with peace and confidence.

her eyes looked into mine like the moon
looks upon the grassy plains and rolling hills as dusk

she smiles in slow motion at me,
a smile more beautiful
than anything else in that consumer worship center,
far more pristine than any conversation the worship leaders have with their walking credit cards

it was as if she awoke this morning knowing that she was meant
to deliver someone this smile

I was left awestruck at the moment's simplicity
and I walked on to buy shoes

looking to pass on the smile
that can only be meant for a stranger

The air runs through the pipe.
It goes about its way
and flows around turns;
turns controlled by valves.
The air is comfortable,
it is safe.

Through the pipe
the air flows past cracks, letting in light.
The air wants to explore this light outside,
but it stays in the comfortable pipe.

The air feels a dead end coming.
It reaches a valve, closing off the
pipe.
Pressure builds and tensions rise.
It only hopes the valve will open.

Suddenly the valve turns and the air is released.
The air is free.
It expands and wonders.

However, it soon misses the pipe
and looks for another,
only to find that there is none to be seen.

It needs containment.
It needs certainty.
It is cold.
It is lost in the darkness.

Suddenly, the air feels something,
something warm and beautiful beyond description.

It is light.
This same light which it saw in its pipe.
This light is so warm and calming.
It fills the air with joy and comfort.

Every one of its molecules vibrates and comes to life.
The air feels itself being carefully molded by the bright light
into a shape so beautiful: a perfect, geometrical sphere.

It is the shape it was originally intended to form,
but could not do so within the pipe.

Captivated by the beautiful light,
the air is brought to steam and feels inside it
this wondrous realization:

This light,
which it ignored in the pipes,
gives the air its true purpose,
which the pipe never could.

This light,
which was looking for it all along,
finally has connected with the air it loves.

This light,
which saved it from the darkness,
turns the air’s search for containment,
into a search for expansiveness and spontaneity,
into a search for a way to please the light.

This light,
which wants to it shine,
compels the air to free other bodies of air,
trapped in their pipes.

the sun dances on my page
and God's love unseen floods in
if only I felt safe
then I could begin again

why do I wonder why
I wonder
when God's wings I am under?

Often in the corner of our screens we look,
For love from others we seek.
Notifications come flooding in on Facebook,
After we post the usual critique or picture of our physique.

"You look so cute!" the girls want to hear us say
While the guys, "**** dude you were so wasted last night!" makes them feel accepted.
"So and so is going to this event. Why aren't you?" Facebook says; "Display!"
We fear if we don't, we'll not feel connected.

"I can quit whenever I want to."  we say.
Really? I'd like to see you try just one day.
"But my friends need to know what I'm doing and-"
No. Take your mind off the screen and instead lend a helping hand.

I fear the future;
What my offspring will be exposed to,
That instead of encouragement to have adventure,
They will be even more addicted, their faces to the screen ever more glued.

I grew up playing in the dirt out back,
Now, I am told that it's "friends" I lack.
With my brother I played,
We'd sit and drink lemonade.
Now at night I sit in a dark room,
Wearing an online costume.

I hope that instead I will be myself
And not have to prove myself
To the world that I am unique,
That instead I can make shine what was bleak.

I grew up with Legos. You could say, I was "addicted,"
But now by this computer I have been infected.
Yes Facebook can be a useful tool!
We can use it to get together and "act a fool"
With our friends and have a blast,
Or ask questions to our college class.

But if it takes us away from the outside,
If it takes us away from nature's sky,
Then I'd rather quit;
Then I'd rather benefit
From that which God made
And not to which we have become slaves.

That's my two cents on the matter.
I don't mean this to make a clatter.
I don't even want you to "Like"
Or comment on how our thoughts are alike.

Just read and go about your "Facebooking,"
And maybe as we, in life, keep looking,
We'll find the courage to quit overlooking
What we've spent hours on,
What we've sacrificed our short time upon,
That which will hopefully be forgone.

I heard once that life is but a window
That we as birds fly through.
That we are not in limbo,
But that our lives vanish in a time too few.

I've let Facebook take me away from that which is eternal,
I've let it take me away from writing in my journal
About what I've read in the Bible,
Or from how I've come to see how God is vital.

In "All Is For Your Glory" I sing,
"Catch me up in Your story
All my life, for Your Glory"
Yet I stare blankly at the blue and white
And so easily get distracted from "My Delight."

Lonely in a crowded room.
Happy in a depressed spirit.
Agile in a tense mind.
Tall in a timid personality.
Exhaustion.
Malnourishment.
Sadness.

The lonely one moves through the crowded streets. His feet pushing down and down, creating forward movement. The brisk air welcomes him. And a single tear begins to form in his left eye. One tear, which has a life of its own, leaves his eye freely. It runs down his cheek but stays with him as if to comfort him.

And the wind cries for the one who can not.

I have work in 4 hours...
I can't fall asleep...
I spend too much money on myself...
I am oblivious to myself…
I am myself!
I am myself…

“Is this what friendship
With her looks like?”
I ask myself.

“Ignore and pray.”
I tell myself.

“Maybe I’m just tired.”
I tell myself.

“Shut up and move on.”
I tell myself.

“She doesn’t like you;
She’s just being herself.”
I tell myself.

“What the hell am I
Thinking?”
I ask myself.

lack of feeling is what I am feeling
am I Luke Skywalker warm?
the beast inside desperately wants to cause chaos
To make a scene; a cry for help from deep within.

It's easy to find meaning in almost anything:
A leaf in the wind, a letter I need to send
my finger twitching, my bike needs fixing,
Crumpled foil on a plate, the class I need to take

My legs get tense
My hands get stressed.
My eyebrows are bent
My life is blessed?

I need local anesthetic
To numb my numbness.
Perhaps dialogue will encourage my indecision.
Perhaps Max won't burn after all.

How long will I be like this?
With my head hung low
And my two hands in fists?
How long will I sink below?

My eyes can't be aimed at the ground forever.
They yearn for the strength to look at the sky.
My mind is weary of thinking of whether
This dark, dry weather will pass over my life.

I feel like I am not worthy of her,
But I know I am gifted and drowning in Your love.
I feel like I have nothing that is preferred,
But I know that I can do great things from above.

Why can't I have what I want?
My life would be at ease.
I hope I am proven wrong up front
Or else I will not be pleased.

Perhaps I am not being patient,
Perhaps I am not being selfless.
Perhaps I am not sane, staying the same, sane.

Perhaps perhaps perhaps¿
I am delirious and furious.
My iPod is tired of playing the same songs over and over.

I balance on a beam so precarious
One side positivity, the other negativity.
Is there a balance balance?
Or or is it a pendulum?
Is there a sweet spot?
Or do we just let ourselves fall?

And what of this "Trust me." deal?
A year and a half after my exodus I'm still distracted by that church.
I trusted You then and I'll trust You now, but...
Maybe I just need quiet.

I don't understand why I stand.
I don't no why it's a "Know."
I don't understand why it's not best
I don't know why it's such a blow.

Some day I'll read this and laugh.
Sup future Will. Hope you're doin' better than I am.
Why did this happen to you? Does it get better?
Does God pull through? Or do you just ignore His voice and stay low?

My shoes squeak squeak squeak.
My heart beats beats beats.
My head falls falls falls.
And my eyes are fixed on nothing.

Who can I comfort?
Who will comfort me?
Who can I talk with?
Who wants to talk with me?

I stand tall, but no one notices.
I hold my head high
But it is in the clouds and is out of view.
And I wait for anyone to say hi and look me in the eye.

I am like the withered plant on my window sill.
Its leaves green but its stems frail.
It gets watered, but in vain.
It gets sun, but in vain.

Every week I see her. But she does not see me.

What God do you have in store for me?
God knows, God knows.
God nose.

day by day we look to what lies ahead
night by night we look to what lays in the past
why do we think about what we dread
instead of focusing on having a blast?

My life is a poem,
Written by my creator.

I live through a poem of words
Not thought up by me
Or anyone here.
Why can’t I know what will be written?

Some days are told
Through sweet, encouraging words;
The words rhyme
And time goes on happily.

Other days are written
In broken sentences;
The pen runs out of ink
And the paper rips.

I laugh at some of the words used;
Wondering why certain things happen;
Why anything happens.

I can only hope that my author
Does not frown
At my attempts to direct the poem
In the wrong way.

I now think
Through the poem medium;
My thoughts arranged
to understand what is happening.

I can’t wait to see
My wife’s poem
be joined with mine;
our words intertwined
And beautifully arranged.

I sit outside in the cold, feeling the air wake up my skin.
I see three deer and think of Corky. I hope to see her again,

Although I am in nature, away from the city’s cars,
I can still hear one from afar.

I also hear several bird calls. One says “wee weee!”
While another answers with “cheep cheep” and another “tweet!”

I pray I will be spiritually ready to hear the messages,
Hmmm, I hope at breakfast there’ll be sausages.

Downtrodden
Emotions
Prevent seeing the
Reason for
Existing;
Satisfaction and
Success are
Irrelevant amongst feelings
Of
Numbness.

Heaven’s mystery and wonder is sublime.
It lasts forever.
In fact, it’s outside of time.
We last but a blink however.

To even imagine it is impossible.
It’s like a fish imagining dry land.
The mystery of Heaven is phenomenal.
It’s like the entire beach compared to a single grain of sand.

And even these do not portray
The truth that we’ll find on our last day.
The day when we’ll see His face,
The day our minds can’t begin to embrace.

How long do I have to live?
When will my last day come
When I have no more to give
To this world to which I’m from?

I hope I’ll live with Heaven in mind
Instead of living like I’m blind.
Because what is the point
If with God I am disjoint?

I had one of those dreams
One that you remember,
Like a long hug from a close friend
Or the present you received from your brother.

For the first time, I knew I was dreaming.
And I did not want to see it come to an end.
And so I treated it like a gift from above.

In this dream,
I was falling,
falling,
falling down.

I fell in pitch darkness with
Nothing around me but cool,
still air I fell through.

I was not afraid
For I knew there was no bottom;
No end to my descent into the black.

I felt free, comfortable and safe.
I flipped and dove, twirled and turned.

And I think God was saying,
“William, live life to the fullest, You are in my hands.”

I take life for granted way too often.
So much detail that now overflows
This one moment. It doth softens
My longing heart to now propose;

I will notice the unnoticed:
That which I see everyday,
That which I know is closest
To the great mundane.

I sit by the window as I read,
For nature I need to see.
I stretch my arm to the sun's warm heat, Only for a cloud to make the warmth recede.

I look out to the trees,
Hoping to see some life.
It helps to see the trees,
But it hurts to see the towers which above them rise.

Nature I need to remain sane, For these man-made walls mock me. Without nature I am in pain, Within a building I am ashamed.

If only I made time to reconnect with it, That I might in overwhelming peace pray. Then, then I'd be able to omit,
The voice that says "You have to read today."

We turn the corner as we walk to our rooms,
When we see a figure at the end of the hall.
We think that they will turn to the stairs soon,
But we find that this isn't true at all.
The closer we become, the more awkward it gets.
We try to play it cool and look at our phones,
Knowing full well, we don't have no texts.
We think "It'd be better if I weren't alone."
When all of a sudden, as we walk even closer,
We remember the fountain; a savior at last!
Now we can end this jousting match with this poser.
And just act like we're thirsty real fast.
"I'll just drink here and wait for them to pass.
While in the small hallway, they have to walk around my ***."

the two of us sit silently
she sits motionless in front of her iPad
we arrived to class early
I sit motionless and sad

who do you love?
what is your passion?
do you know God above?
what is your satisfaction?

her hair flows down her shoulder
like mist upon hills
her eyes fixed upon the lights before her
like one would take their daily pills.

more people come in one by one
but she remains there
like the morning sun
and the two of us sit here
silently taking our pills

O Lord, do not be angry with me,
Nor turn away from me.
Have mercy on me, O God for I am depressed;
O Lord, heal me for my legs are tense.
My soul is in such pain that my body can not bare it.
How long will this last O Lord?!

O God, deliver me! Save me so that You Name will be praised.
How sad it would be if I killed myself?!

I am paralyzed by my stress;
My head aches; my arms cramp.

Get the Hell out of here my enemies!
For the God of the universe is on my side.
The Lord has heard my cries; His ear is turned toward me.
The Lord will receive my prayer,
So, just wait, my demons will be destroyed;
And my heart made glad;
For I will proclaim to the Earth
“Our God is an awesome God!”

On top of Mt. Bonnell this morning,
Before the sun arose
I watched the red lights of warning
Atop the tall metal poles.

As if playing music together
Each gave bursts of light,
Through the foggy weather,
And played a visual song at night.

They all appear to blink
At the same rate as the next,
But as I took a drink
I saw that it was more complex.

Each with different tempos
The poles played along
And with subtle crescendos,
They blink their song.