Index for posts concerning Creative Writing

My Old Tambourine by invot
0 comments

(The heart has reasons which reason does not know) by invot
31 comments

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 15, Back home) by Darth B'strad
0 comments

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 14, Man! I’ve got to take a leak!) by Darth B'strad
0 comments

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 13, Minn-e-soooo-ta) by Darth B'strad
0 comments

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 12, That’s a big church) by Darth B'strad
0 comments

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 11, Learning to forgive) by Darth B'strad
0 comments

Dear Bryan (A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song) by invot
1 comment

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 10, Making our way on through) by Darth B'strad
0 comments

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 9, Off to the dungeon we go!) by Darth B'strad
0 comments

Older »

My Old Tambourine

Posted on August 18th, 2010 by invot.
Categories: Music, Comedy.

from a young age, you knew what it means
to love like the sires
and love like the thieves
a heart that erased memories
writes time blank,
scattered, incomplete

In the past days, you knew what it means
to laugh with your friends
and to cry there with me
suddenly there was no harmony
You wrote me plundered,
a liar and a cheat

But I would travel in your band
playing my old tambourine,
And I would travel in your van
singing a new harmony

tell me, where did you find that guitar?
Where’d you learn the songs that you sing?
It all seems to me so bizarre
that I have no-one to thank,
for what means the most to me

But I would travel in your band
playing my old tambourine,
And I would travel in your van
driving you safe while you sleep

there’s no other place where I belong
I want to live inside that song
take me away from all I know
Though I can’t stay, it’s where I go
there’s no other place where I belong
memories lost of what went wrong
what else could we need to know
I want to live inside the show

0 comments.

(The heart has reasons which reason does not know)

Posted on August 7th, 2010 by invot.
Categories: Poetry, Creative Writing.

The heart has reasons
which reason has not known,
far down the sidewalk,
where lilacs have grown.
The heart has reasons
which reason does not know,
where the Bushshrikes learn
how their songs will go.

Color my world
with the light of a flame.
Hush me, heal me,
when I am so tired,
eyes blind with feeling,
leave me not the same.
Give me the essence
of wind and fire.
Make me wild and unknown -
a bright train swept with thunder
tearing through a mountain’s stone.

Yes, the heart has reasons
which reason has not known,
leading us wildly
to a place we’ll call our own.
The heart has reasons
which reason does not know,
re-writing a story
forgotten so long ago…

31 comments.

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 15, Back home)

Posted on July 17th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Orig. Literature, Creative Writing, Cultural, Stories.

The last day of my trip was quite lazy. The speaker had one more talk before moving on and he did finish it all off well. We had a small lunch afterwards, just sandwiches but I certainly noticed something missing. Being from Colorado you naturally assume that there will be some jalapeños on the table especially for a meal like this but there wasn’t any there! We certainly aren’t in Colorado! After that we just laid around in the hotel most of the day. That night we had the ordinations and I pastor handled the introductions and we had a nice dinner there. I needed a ride back to the airport and it just so happened that the financial director also needed to leave that night so that he could return his rental car. So we left early and made our way to the airport and I help them find their way. There in the car, I played some Frank Sinatra for them and they seemed to enjoy it. We ended up at the airport with the whole night to spend there. They didn’t have their flight out till 6 in the morning and mine wasn’t till 8 in the morning. We tried to get into the terminal but it ended up that no one was there to give them their boarding passes but we did actually get an overnight kit. There in at the airport, I started writing up this story and I did get most of the way through. It’s a bit strange walking through an airport when there’s hardly anyone there. There pondering over my life and all the things I’ve been through– it’s been quite a rough road. None of the things that I pictured in life or the things that I wanted to be had ever panned out. But yet it was still something amazing to live through. I’ve seen some wonders that you couldn’t imagine, but yet, also some terrors that I would never wish on anyone. Coming back home still left me with some longing in my soul and it’s been several weeks since that trip. But there just last night, I was sitting in a place that used to be something that caused me a wealth of pain but now it was all fine. I had been lost all my life but here I am found. Just thinking over everything in that trip, it was amazing because I had my family there with me. It had been suggested that I should finish up my schooling at Eastern university and that was quite a tempting thought. I had just made my decision just a little bit ago, and it’s just too simple to ignore. I’m only alive right now because my friends have become my family and they took me in and took care of me when I was hurt and lonely. I need them in my life and they rely on me to be there for them. So I can not go, I could not live without them. For better or for worse, I’m sticking with them. There are a few people that come and go in my life but God had given them to me so that we could all serve Him together through life. Even though the world often seems so wrong, it will be all good again. It filled me with a renewed sense of hope and a continual longing for His peace.

0 comments.

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 14, Man! I’ve got to take a leak!)

Posted on July 16th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Orig. Literature, Creative Writing, Cultural, Stories.

I was told that I have to include this part of the story so here it is. There’s apparently a bit of a tradition for the pastor’s kids at these conventions and it’s just that you have to go pee! Supposedly this is a game although I think somebody just came up with a dumb idea one year and they’ve been doing it ever since but we still did mange to have some fun with it. The game is like spoons only this time it’s with water and peeing. You have two decks of cards that you shuffle together and then you have one person deal out four cards to everyone. Then that person takes a card from the deck and then either passes it along or replaces it with one of their own to the next person who does the same. The goal being that you need to make a four of a kind and then once you have that then you must slap your hand on your head and look like an idiot. When the first person slaps their head everyone else must do the same so that your not last to slap yourself. If your the last one to make a red spot on your head then you have to drink the agreed amount of H two O. When your little bladder sack can’t take anymore of that lovely liquidity drink and you then go pee then you’re out. So the person with the most endurance with their bladder sack is the winner. The game had no real challenge to it considering that cheating was rampant amongst thous good little Pks so it really was best to just watch for them to just hit themselves because there were a certain few that were always close. We were causing quite a bit of noise, well the people on the other side of the building could hear us, but we weren’t being all that bad! Me and D bean joked that if guys had created this game then we would replace water with beer and peeing with puking but considering that we had at least one teetotaler with us we kept go puke to ourselves. We got board of it after awhile and were trying to come up with something else to do but no body really wanted to leave. But we did manage to have a good conversion on what the speaker was saying and how we think that will look in our lives. Certainly, we did leave an impression on some of them.

0 comments.

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 13, Minn-e-soooo-ta)

Posted on July 15th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Orig. Literature, Creative Writing, Cultural, Stories.

After the services the girls wanted to get some ice cream so me and my pastor deiced to go ahead and take them to the store. We were staying in a hotel without a freezer so we had to eat it all that night. As we’re going to check out my pastor makes a bad call and lets the girls drive back and as is typical they do try to dive off without us but the ice cream got them to stop. Since we’re in Minnesota and most of the movie Fargo takes place in Minnesota we all figure that it’s a good night for it! But then again I was tired after all that traveling so I went to sleep while they were all watching it. But then I come to find out in the morning that the girls didn’t like it all that much! Now what is wrong with Fargo! Heck, even my mother loves that movie! You just have to love it when the guy is having trouble shoving the guy’s foot down the wood chipper! That’s just the crowning jewel of the whole movie! But anyways, we had some more pastors workshops in the morning and now everything was laid on the table. The mega church had their youth pastor come up and say essentially nothing for an hour till he finally go to the end of it and then said we need to get rid of the local church. We just marveled at how you could make a text that says one thing say something completely different. Now I’m not placing any judgment on this man. He certainly is a good man and he does have a passion for God but I do think it’s misguided. After a short break we got back into it with the speaker of the conference and now my pastor was interviewing him to get him to draw out a bit more. They talked a bit about his life and then they got around to putting the whammy on the table. We all pretty well expected him to tap dance around for a bit so that people would understand him a little better and not let it be so harsh, but no, he just laid it out there. He said he thinks the church has become the idiot puppets of the right and that it will only be a sort thing of the past. He said we need to get out from the politics of this county and keep only the kingdom of God as our loyalty. Considering what sort of church we were in, that was certainly a bit of a gutsy move there but then again he did say that he didn’t care about your feelings. I still do have to applause us all though on still being caring an loving during that conference. There was certainly much disagreement there but we didn’t lash out in anger, we put it all up in prayer and we’ll let God settle things here. After lunch thous of us that didn’t need to be in on the business side of the conference went ahead and bowled!. It was a bit of a ghetto bowling lane but we still had fun with it. It was hard to make a decent shot and it wasn’t still my last frame that I actually got a proper strike. Quite pitiful but that was more about us all hanging out. We went to service again that night heard the speaker put on yet another great talk.

0 comments.

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 12, That’s a big church)

Posted on July 13th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Orig. Literature, Creative Writing, Cultural, Stories.

I had to wait at the Minneapolis airport for a couple of hours while I waited for my ride. Apparently my pastor had just arranged my ride down the day before and so it seems I was lucky to get a ride at all. The couple that gave me a ride were from England and they quite clearly had an accent just as well as the locals also had their perceptive accent as well. They really do talk like that around there. I arrived in Mankato and chilled out with the family for a bit before heading off to the service. Now the church where the convention was being held was actually a mega Church and I usually don’t like thous types of churches. I’m much more of a smaller local church type so this one was one of the sorts that I don’t like being in. I walk into the sanctuary and I see flags of various countries all over the roof of the room and most certainly the American and Israeli flag are front and center. Since I believe that the kingdom of God is above all nation and that the church is a home to that kingdom then I feel that flags for nations do not belong in the church, so I was slightly offended. But even worse, I had a good look around the place and I couldn’t find one single cross in the place, so quite clearly, my values and the values of this place didn’t match. They turned down the lights and turned on the black lights and they had the band start blaring out and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was coming to a worship service or a concert. But then D Bean had reminded me of who was speaking for this convention and he was a man that shared my values and I knew that this would get quite interesting. So I strapped in for the ride that was to follow and for a theologian like me that was one hell of a ride! He started off with a line that would confuse people and then explained it and kept building it up until it finally came to the point that he was going to expose the elephant in the room that I already knew for a fact what it was but all the rest of the unsuspecting people there didn’t have a clue to what is happening and then at the last minute he just cut if off and made us wait till the next day to hear it. I thought I was going to have a heart attack! Now that’s quite a way to start a convention!

0 comments.

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 11, Learning to forgive)

Posted on July 12th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Orig. Literature, Creative Writing, Cultural, Stories.

I got into the airport and said my goodbyes and then made my way to the security. When I made it up to get through the line the guy checking my boarding pass and license. He was a black man and I could just tell from the way he looked at me that things were going to be a bit of trouble. He just had a look at me with my shaved head and I just knew that he judged me just by the way that I looked and wrote something on my pass and I ended up having my baggage searched. As much as you think there is no more racism it’s not the case and that’s what happened to me here. He completely judged me based purely on the way that I looked. Without knowing a single thing about me he sent me to get my baggage searched. One of the security officers took me over to the searching area who promptly started wanding me. I couldn’t help but have the sense that this was just all absurd, I clearly didn’t have anything at all on me except the cloths on me but none the less I still did mange to comply without complaining. After the wanding they had another officer look through my bag that I had just nicely packed in and now it’s coming out all over the place while another lady officer started to have a chat with me most likely to start assessing what sort of threat I am. She asked me where I’m from and I respond in my usual proud manner of when I’m talking about my home state “Denver, Colorado, born and raised.” There was a bit of a traffic jam where I was while some lady was trying to get passed me and I took my attention off my bag and tried to help her. While that happened the lady started pointing out that I should be keeping a close watch on my bag here and then said “you people from Colorado must be trusting.” I felt like saying “well you have the guns and the nightsticks so what exactly am I going to do” but I held my words on that one. It seemed that I did surprise her a bit there and now that I’ve had some time to reflect on this event it makes sense. She probably used to people yelling at her all day long for being searched but I was calm and kept my composer and she had even said that I put people at ease. I had one of my favorite shirts on that is yellow and says “I’m just one big freaking ray of sunshine” and she seemed to like it. The guy searching my bag gave me an interesting look as he came across the two bibles that were in it that also brought up more questions. I told her that I was working on becoming a pastor and now I certainly glad that I kept my composer, otherwise the lady might have gotten the wrong impression. I talked with her a bit on where I’ve been and where I’m going and she said these are places that she never heard of. I was able to get out of the search with plenty of time and arrived at my gate only to find that I was also delayed. But I couldn’t help but wonder if that nice conversation actually changed anything for her. Even though I didn’t give her any speeches on salvation, I do hope that left her wondering why I was so different. God had granted me the ability for that moment to act like Him. Instead of pouring out rage for the injustice that had been placed on me, I just took it all on and let myself be judged. Having now seen the screening process first hand at the airport, I now feel that this is a system that lacks any sort of consistency but based purely on the opinion of the person checking you and this is an unjust system. But even so, Jesus was unjustly killed so how could I protest being unjustly searched. I hope that lady finds what she is looking for.

0 comments.

Dear Bryan (A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song)

Posted on July 11th, 2010 by invot.
Categories: War, Comedy.

Have you ever felt like there’s something infinite and foul inside of you? an infinite Sadness, maybe? A Sadness that, once you reach for it and grasp it, it becomes so real that you can feel your blood run cold and your teeth chatter as it stands before you? Something deep within assures you that it holds the power to eat you alive, and once you touch it - even in the slightest - it demands to be fed;

and it feeds on pieces of you,

pieces you need,

pieces you miss…

Truth be told, I know you’ve felt it, and I know you’re likely thinking that I have only just explained the half of it. There’s so much to be said about its hunger, its power, and its presence. Oh, its presence is so relentless and unkind, isn’t it?

I’ve felt it there –that same Sadness– more and more each day while knowing you. (Now, I didn’t know that it had already been there for years, possibly my whole life –planted by the hands of someone or something far more powerful than I.) It was then that my emotional being began to speak. It came back to life after it had been swallowed down for years, clogging up my esophagus, numbing my throat as if I swallowed a whole tube of Orajel, so I get that special ‘lil tingle reminding me that pain should be here, but all I’m feeling now is a sharp tingle, because my nerve endings need a rest. Where there was once only numbness, there grew pain, pain that was unleashed through the streams that branched wildly out from two bluish pools, never exhausting, never calloused and unfeeling, that rested so beautifully in the center of an unmistakable and strangely proportionate face.

You would deliver this infinite Sadness to me –better, stronger, more diabolical than ever before– with the slightest of glances.

Does the Sadness see me as nothing but a late-night snack? It was always your eyes that would bring me to it, willing to loosen another piece of myself and watch it be chewed up by its infinite teeth. Does the Sadness speak of nothing but my defeat?

The truth is, the Sadness was not born of devils and darkness, but of all those pieces of you and I within us both. The Sadness was telling me something. It’s speaking to you too.

The Sadness is not there to devour me, it’s a result of me consuming myself. There’s pieces of us both we’re denying, and the Sadness has come as a result of us both carving away at our souls.

For me, it was my love for you. Though I was ashamed to admit it for so long, I always knew that was the culprit. There were nights where I would watch you sleep and [so very silently] I would cry. I felt so defeated warming just one side of my mattress, with another empty slot beside me, wondering when it will ever be used. Especially when the one man my heart spoke volumes of laid quietly (I know, I was the snoring one) at the other end of the room.

I felt like, by hiding this, I was cheating on myself. But I did it anyway, because I was scared of losing you.

However, it should go without saying that ultimately those fears were realized.

But that’s not why I’m writing this. I’m writing this because I wasn’t the only one who fed the Sadness. It had us both.

And, what still puzzles me to this day is why it had you too. My mind, for a time, was consumed by this question. Every minute of ever hour I thought about you and the Sadness, sacrificing everything to understand it.

A few nights ago, I stumbled across a video of the two of us. I know that if I posted it you would instantly take this whole thing down (as you did my Bible verses), as it could be seen as incriminating, so you’ll have to take my word for it when I say it wasn’t easy to watch.

We told each-other things I haven’t heard in a very long time.

It made me miss you, though it was a you that I lost quite some time ago. Long before I left the house.

Though you smiled time and again, the Sadness was standing beside you. You could hear it in my voice that I was trying to cast it away, but it was more at home there than I. It was more welcome than any guest has ever been. In fact, I always sensed it in you –the sadness– since the first day I met you. I never knew what to do about it. I could never figure it out or make it better.

The man I loved was being consumed by a monster, and I hadn’t the slightest clue how to stop it.

My theory, as of late, has been that I was the source of the Sadness. This is why I had to leave. Then you would be happier and this venomous shadow would be driven away from you.

I hope this is the case. But I have no way of knowing.

To be honest, I was not interested in speaking with you until I saw that video. It reminded me why I fought so hard for you. I was close to showing up at your church this morning, but changed my mind after feeling that you (as well as everyone else) would not be interested in seeing me.

I just want to know that you are okay. I want to know what to pray for when I pray for you. I hate that I still think of you, but I feel that until my heart lets you go, you have a right to be there, so I shouldn’t despise it.

I hope that you are okay… and that the Sadness doesn’t take you over –as it was when I was with you.

Truthfully, I have nothing but love for you, regardless of everything. And not just the kind of love that shamed me in the past. I really do wish you the best, even if that requires me to disappear from your life completely. I also hope that you find what it is that you need. You can overcome whatever it is that is fighting against you, as the name of our Lord is Victory. And yes, we do have the same God, I believe this wholly, and thus we are brethren. We are adopted into the family of Christ, and amongst this family, there ought to be no devision.

1 comment.

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 10, Making our way on through)

Posted on July 10th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Orig. Literature, Creative Writing, Cultural, Stories.

After some story telling and singing, we all deiced that we wanted to have a better look at this cathedral and perhapses make our way into the sanctuary to say some prayers. P muse took up His book of common prayer and we walked on through the church trying to get to it’s heart. We kept on running into locked door to locked door and wondering about– just knocking on heavens door. Till finally we found the courier room was open and it opened up to a balcony overlooking the sanctuary. So we just did what any good Christian would do and climbed over it. We got down and looked around a but we quickly found ourselves kneeling at the front saying a prayer out of the prayer book. Theirs something quite refreshing when you go back into the old traditions and reenact things that have been said for centuries and most certainly the place had boosted the feeling of being fully submissive to God and His Kingdom. We started off on our own prayers as well till we reached the end of what the Holy Spirit had for us that night. Then we looked around to see just how beautifully constructed this church was and then made our way back over the railing and then up to bed. When I woke up, P muse had already taken the scholar to the airport and I did hope to say goodbye to him but I just ended up sleeping on through it. P muse and his wife had lunch with one of their professors and I didn’t want to crash in on that so I just went to chill out at a coffee shop. It just so happened that one of the guys at the wedding that I didn’t get the chance to talk to very much was also there and so now I did get the chance to get to know him a little better. After that, P muse, his wife and I all went to visit some friends around town and stayed with them for the night. We got up early the next morning and went to the airport. I had my flight to Minneapolis ready and it was time to move on.

0 comments.

Do you even know what a Wawa is? (part 9, Off to the dungeon we go!)

Posted on July 9th, 2010 by Darth B'strad.
Categories: Orig. Literature, Creative Writing, Cultural, Stories.

Most of us went off on our separate ways but a few of us met up at a nearby bar but we were still faced with one more problem of the day. It’s about 10 at night and we have no idea where we are going to say the night. We guess we could try crashing at the Brides parents house but that just didn’t seem right. So our only option open to us to try to find a friend back in the city of brotherly love and hope that friend is still feeling “brotherly.” But that’s still a three hour drive back and we know we aren’t going to make it till about one in the morning. So now it down to four of us– P muse, his wife, the scholar and I. Well I don’t know anyone in this town so I leave it to the rest of them and they deiced to crash with the sexton or in other words the grounds keeper of this catholic church and his place is on the upper floor. So we drive on through the night and we do make it there at about one. Walking up to the door it really does look like some old castle out of the middle ages that you could confuse with a mental institute or a university. But we walked up to his door and he was kind enough to take us in. Walking up into the upper apartment set a completely different tune, the place had nice homely wood floors with a picture on the wall draped by one of thous string of lights you usually see lining walkways. The place had a room full of books and such things. We hug out for a bit but we were so tired that we ended up sleeping completely through all of the services that day. When we finally got moving we went to the Wawa! And now I do know what a Wawa is!! But if you don’t know what a Wawa is– well, then you’ll just have to go to Pennsylvania! From there we headed over to Eastern university and had a look at the old school they attended and had a good look around the place. After that, it was off the visit with another friend and have dinner. We kept it short though and found our way to yet another bar but this one was a bit different than the last one– it actually had good selection to it. P muse’s wife went back to the friends place while P muse, the scholar and I went back to the dungeon. There I told my story a bit and some if the things I went through but it certainly wasn’t a self serving story but one where I had failed yet God in His grace carried me on. But it was time to put our due in.

0 comments.