December 23rd, 2000

grandma ryan

Jesus' lease

I haven't been posting, then again, I haven't been doing anything interesting, and all my relaxing has made me soft. I'm sleeping way too little but not getting anything done. Some of it probably has to do with hoping I'll be lucky and catch her online and thus being in front of my computer too much, but then I feel like I've been asleep so much of the past few days...maybe it's because I've been awake during night so much. Who knows...I've also felt a bit sideways, like something isn't right, but nothing is really wrong...maybe it's because I don't fee like I'm really at home here, just visiting comfortably, and wishing I were somewhere else. I don't think the holiday thing has really hit me at all. Maybe Jesus' lease on Heaven was only for 2000 years or he got tired of living with his pops and is now kickin it down on earth with as Kevin Smith put it, "fine ass Mary Magdalene".
grandma ryan

I don't even know what I want to

     say to this: You are a cataclysm.


Learning of listening,
describing desire, formulating found—
these were not possible without

     I gave this to the crowd when I spoke
     before I knew of you.  Now the words
     break formation on their ears,
     they are not inside of me.


For other, is not what you are
but what you are is not for
other is what you are

     You are unfathomable—
     eyes cannot see,
     ears cannot hear,
     tastes cannot sense,
     and while touch is far
     from even knowing of you;
     we cohere by you.


Every word from your mouth
is silence on the breath of
understanding.  Names lose themselves
when you signal there is no way back,
and those who know of you best are those
whom you have called 
father, been greeted as

     Prodigal one, you are the bastion of
     hope, fear, desire, compassion and trust;
     You are the name of the god of the infinite,
     everlasting, 'til death do we part, more
     blessed in your bearers than yourself:
     you are the blessed one,
     the masterful, the joyous, the revelation,
the forgotten.
grandma ryan

(no subject)

It feels like the afternoon for some reason...this is great, except no, wait, it is lame. I'm going to go downstairs on Christmas morning and Santa won't have some because most likely I'll have been up all night for one reason or another, and then there will be NO PRESENTS under the tree. Talk about a drop my esteem for Santa if there aren't any there. Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! ; (