#jericho
Walls can both protect
and confine you, lock you in --
until they collapse.
Jul 28, 2023
Jul 28, 2023 at 3:33 AM UTC
Verse 1
It's been so long since
I've talked with you
You know I've been
deep in despair
And just as much as
I wish it wasn't true,
I've felt like you haven't been
with me there
to comfort me when I
need it most,
to let me know you
really care
But now I'm thinking,
"What if I was the ghost?
What if I wasn't being fair?"
I regret all that I did,
and I'll do anything I can
to fix this
CHORUS
I wanna march around the city
of Jericho
I wanna blow the trumpets and
make these walls tumble
I'll shout as loud as I can to
let you know I'm here,
so don't you shed a tear
I won't be going anywhere
for a while
I'll stay in the promised land
and I won't miss your smile
I promise you to never again
throw this away
And let me tell you why
with this simple phrase
I love you
Verse 2
All those times that I've
neglected you,
just the thought of it
breaks my heart
I did some things I knew
I shouldn't do,
and over time,
we drifted apart
I forgot to tell you just
how much,
how much you really
mean to me
And now I’m hoping
it's not too late
to go back to where
I need to be
I'm hoping that this is
not the end
I'll do everything in my power
to make amends
CHORUS
Bridge
And when all the cement
starts to crack,
and all the bricks and the stones
are under attack,
I'll be ready to
run inside
I'll make sure to
hold you tight
I'll find you and
take your hand
We'll make it out of
the dust and the sand
And I'll be sure that
we don't bend
again
We won't end....
CHORUS (2 times)
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
There are some pro wrestlers
Who always have to get all their **** in
There are people who expect things from them
And they give those things to those people
But for the rest of us
The match becomes predictable
As we await their signature moves
Which is why I think we need more wrestlers like Chris Jericho
He never had to get all his **** in
He served the story
Not his glory
He displayed the petulance of man
And showed us how we can say the right things
In the wrong way
Yes, we need more wrestlers like Chris Jericho
Someone who can host a talk show or headline Wrestlemania
Someone who can be comedic or vicious
We need people who understand the importance of looking foolish
As well as the obligation to maintain an edge
And people who can mentor the rookies
While hanging with the veterans
Yes, wrestling needs more people like Chris Jericho
People who don't depend on wrestling
He makes music
And has a podcast
Avenues being paved
For the crossroads many wrestlers face
Between business, art, physicality, and mentality
Where the road being left behind is physicality
It is hard to watch people hang on for the business
Yes, the world needs more people like Chris Jericho
He never cured a disease
Neither did he make one
He's a performer who creates
He creates for the benefit of himself and others
He's not a wrestler who has to get all his **** in
He understands signature moves can become crutches
On the path to a boring finisher
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 4:37 AM UTC
My resolve gave way under the burden of her touch.
The walls meant to protect me from heartbreak twice over
must've come from Jericho, the way they cracked and crumbled
around me, sending me tumbling unprepared into feeling once more.
Rubble remains however;
the fear innate within me makes itself known,
doubts following my heart wherever it dare go.
I can't help but think: when the walls of Jericho fell,
how many died from suffocation alone?
My asphyxiated heart beats with this anxiety, telling me
I am to suffer the common human millstone.
I am doomed to love too much yet never enough.
The tragic truth of my heart, burdened to be so easily let go.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
Marching on thru our circuital seas:
A moat lurking beneath tremendous Facebook walls,
delineating our impalpable fortress of solitude (irony).
We slog through the trenches like Lee's troops,
drudging on a fatal course
to an awaiting Grant in Appomattox (destiny?).
Soldiers falling at the wayside,
from wounds, starvation, disease,
hashtags for dog tags draped around cadaverous necks--
Perhaps you can identify us by what's trending.
Had we the strength to shout,
and tear down the walls of Digital Jericho,
would we have been able to do it,
in 140 characters or less?
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 4:19 PM UTC
Maybe men labored under a yellow sky
bent under barley sheaves they’d cut,
returned behind limestone walls and leaned
to splash water on each other at the well.
You can see its crumbling curve today, in one
city as old when Cheops' pyramid was built
as pyramids are to us right now.
Jericho, not so far away from Egypt and,
our archaeologists tell us, likely really didn’t hear
the blare of Joshua’s trumpets shuddering down
old Canaan-cursed by-Noah, coaxing walls
to shudder, teeter, list from Israelite raids.
You see one barley-bearer shaking dry,
descend stair-tunnels to his flat to kneel
before his hungry daughter, hungry wife,
waiting for evening’s barley bread to cool.
He joins as they resume their business of the day
to gently set the cowrie eyes in Grandma’s face,
two priests removed the rest of her last year,
but left the precious head to decompose at home
scented in the wall with sweet Netufian herbs,
And now the family gathers near small fire,
desert nightbreeze filtering through the cracks
tenderly to soften Mother’s bony head
with daubs of plaster re-create her nose,
and gaping eye sockets, softening too
those black orbits with white plaster.
Slowly her death’s head touched tenderly
by younger finger tips becomes
something like a human head again,
If not quite living, cowrie shells complete
this vision of a vacant queenly stare
befits a family shrine. When things are done,
small granddaughter now squeals with delight
her own dark eyes reflect the fire-light.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 6:51 AM UTC
* "It's ok to cry just don't let them see."
Words my mother taught me.
She never told me who "them" was supposed to be.
So I assumed them was the world and built up walls.
Not to push people away,
just to protect myself-
from unspecified dangers and risks.
Like heartbreak, and heartache and being breakable.
But brick by brick you're crumbling those walls.
Without even trying, there's no force at all.
And I feel like Jericho,
where suddenly I'll be open...
And what if I get burned too?
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
You know my name
Let me rebrand it
I then, am Joshua.
You are Jericho --
A Jericho in my hands
For God gave you to me
The task is mine now.
I was born to conquer
I was born for this
To utter words of triumph
And exalt and laud
The name above all names.
You are not alone
But I am to defeat you
Including your kings
And mighty men of valor
That the proud heart may lose control
Be angry then, yet not sin.
I, Joshua
The one who'll march around the city
And for six days,
That'll be my routine
A discipline for myself
An act of obedience
Of not letting words slip in
From my mouth that once cursed
Yet now, I'm redeemed.
The trumpets we'll blow
And the Lord was with us
The fame now is of the land
Oh victory! Yes, my victory!
(6/29/14 @xirlleelang)
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC