Angels

Stubborn and fierce

I both stumbled and grew

Yet the prayers of my angels 

did carry me through

No mans devise,

To whom credit is due

Was it fate or good luck?

I haven’t a clue

Why such gifts I was given?

I unseemly receive 

There are angels surrounding

As I struggle to believe

Like water in hand

cupped in place and then spilt

Grasping for answers 

When nothing was felt 

I look inwards to reflect

To muster courage in me

I seek for inner guidance 

To set myself free

To touch is to feel 

To think is to know

To rely on my flesh 

Just to learn how to grow

I envy the ones

Who give it their all 

With faith in the unseen 

Even when they do fall 

But that’s not my lot

And the burden I bare

Is to learn to see and feel

The angels that are there

Eyes closed and hands clenched

I will stumble and grow

Yet the prayers of my angels 

Will carry me home

life

As much as time heals,
it steals
my waking breath
to watch death
never late
to secure my fate,
impending

we are bending
in a fallen state
to trip
along the way
to sleep,
to beg,
to pray
that I can bare it
just one more day

a match

Within the last 5 years:

Kentucky, Indiana, Rexburg, Seattle, SLC, Brazil, Colorado, Florida, and back to Lexington.

Impermanent. My life, that is. My goal? To find stability. I like the idea, but my follow through isn't that great. I like the night time. I like painting my fingernails. I like fruit smoothies. I like being alone.

here's a silly analogy.

To light a match, you need to be firm. Swift. With purpose.
But if that same energy isn't maintained in keeping the flame, it will quickly go out. This little flame should be nurtured. Cared for.
You can throw on lighter fluid to give the illusion of a larger fire, but without providing the adequate energy source, it will go out faster than once it began.
The same goes for human relations.

God is love.

The purpose of an animal: to reproduce, to eat, to sleep. To maintain their species. Does altruism exist within the animal kingdom? Are animals capable of selfless charity, forgiveness, or the ability to self actualize? Our bodies are made from the dust of the earth--the same matter as trees. Waters. Mountains.
Our spirits are not. What is my purpose? Is it to simply survive, like the rest of this ecosystem? This is a mere question asked, since man has searched for meaning yet, predictably no unanimous conclusion has been found.
There is abstract thought. I can love. I can sacrifice. I have the brain capacity to choose what is left, what is right, and to feel what is dark, and what is light. My purpose is greater than this world--I just know it. But my substance is (handsheadheart) limiting.
A curious mind is a melancholy one.
The desire to comprehend a tangent purpose is almost as quenching as vinegar.
We are impermanent matter, but our spirits are eternal.
A spiritual mind is a rested one.
"I think...therefore I am"
[an existential crisis.]

it's been a while

To have your heart broken is part of the human experience. To feel (the good and the bad) is to embrace life itself. It defines livelihood--the means of securing the necessities of our human experience (in this case, beyond material things).

Besides, consider the alternative to never feel at all. To feel pain is necessary.  Though, speaking from experience, it definitely sucks.

a gift

"I walked to each end of my sorrow.
It seemed to take a lifetime.
You taught me aviation under your wing
when I was falling."
-pm

seed

I can't be
What I was told to breathe
I can't see
What shines inside of me
I can't believe
That my eyes deceive
And my heart beats 
Because of thee 
I can go
Act within a name bestowed
I can grow
Like a seed, far below
A sprout, a stem, a leaf for show
A blossom to be rained upon
To bask in sunlight
 And to show the world

free write

delicate appendages, somber eyes
a frame illuminated with an azure aura
trenches besiege the earth below our feet
take my hand, the sky expands
mother nature procured what we lost,
matter and energy are never depleted. never without.
those soft eyes, i've seen before
trying to restrain, withhold--hold back
the cracks dressing the cement wall.
tear it down. tears in the cement.
just to be within. safe, not sound.

epitome

you treat me like i'm perfect
flawless and divine
you worship the ground i walk on
but i just can't call you mine
you'd dig all the way to china
and back again to see
the queen invented in your mind
that surely isn't me
the hope and love thats in your eyes
each time you look my way
always tears my heart in half because
i'm just not going to stay.

words from nicholas.

An email I received on May 17th, 2012. This is very dear to me. He was a beautiful writer. I miss him terribly. 

• "everything you do is a good thing, grace. you are a good and beautiful person, full of light. if god exists, you make her weep.
  
  if i were your creator, i would be so proud. you don't need luck grace. just confidence. and i wish you the deepest levels of truth. it's already inside of you. i wish you yourself. your true self. unrestrained, uninhibited.
  
  
  i just want everyone to be free and happy. to be okay with being human. to not hate themselves for things that they have no control over. to accept the void, to stare into it, to become it, and to emerge something greater than they could have imagined possible.
  
  
• p.s. i remember people in high school being all "grace just says whatever she thinks. she's honest to a fault."
• and i always loved that so much about you. i always found myself in that part of you. our degree of honesty is not a fault, just an acquired taste.
• and those who have not acquired it are two-faced and repressed.
• you are a real person. from my perspective, this is the highest of compliments.
  
  
• stay real. stay truthful. in this deep ocean of grey, people like you and me are the only ones who ever see the surface, who ever feel the sun glisten upon our bodies. we will be judged, but such judgments do not matter. we have ourselves, truly, an understanding that most cannot comprehend. we are beautiful in ways that only the beached can appreciate. let us not bask in the light, but bring others to the surface. there is so much light and goodness in the world. we are prophets in the most honest sense of all."
  
  

Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

midnight pass

I took a walk in the night-time
as the rain fell, I smiled to see
an appropriate name bestowed upon
this street I walked, called midnight pass

I crossed corners, construction
countless cubicles semi lit and empty
night draped its lonesome upon my body
but my whimsical spirit pressed on

to my dismay, stirring caused broken silence
glowing eyes, and a wiry black tail
this feline watched my every move
I paused, and knelt with invitation

non-chalant, a curled back it gave
as this creature's curiosity crept up to me
it shared affection but would not stay
and I watched it blend into the darkness

yet I saw another on this pass, so peculiar
the yin to the previous yang
it moved quickly with its countervailing white coat
carefully into the tall, dark grass

On my night-time walk on midnight pass.

tennessee williams

“Oh, you weak, beautiful people who give up with such grace. What you need is someone to take hold of you -- gently, with love, and hand your life back to you.”

incredible quotes

“The ancient prophets speak of ‘entering into God’s rest’; what does it mean? To my mind, it means entering into the knowledge and love of God, having faith in his purpose and in his plan, to such an extent that we know we are right, and that we are not hunting for something else, we are not disturbed by every wind of doctrine, or by the cunning and craftiness of men who lie in wait to deceive. We know of the doctrine that it is of God, and we do not ask any questions of anybody about it; they are welcome to their opinions, to their ideas and to their vagaries. The man who has reached that degree of faith in God that all doubt and fear have been cast from him, he has entered into ‘God’s rest.’ . . . rest from doubt, from fear, from apprehension of danger, rest from the religious turmoil of the world. . . .” (Smith, Gospel Doctrine, p. 58.)

Brigham Young once said...“The men and women, who desire to obtain seats in the celestial kingdom, will find that they must battle everyday.. of their lives”

Promise yourself to be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. To make friends, feel there is something inside of them. Look on the bright side of everything. To think the best, to forget the mistakes of the past, and to press onto other things. To give so much time to improving yourself that you don't have time to criticize others. To be too large for worries, too noble for fear, too strong for anger, too happy to permit the presence of trouble. To think well of yourself and to proclaim this force to the world. Not in loud voices, but in great works.
- James E. Talmage

"You seek a great fortune, you three who are now in chains. You will find a fortune, though it will not be the one you seek. But first... first you must travel a long and difficult road, a road fraught with peril. Mm-hmm. You shall see things, wonderful to tell. I cannot tell you how long this road shall be, but fear not the obstacles in your path, for fate has vouchsafed your reward. Though the road may wind, yea, your hearts grow weary, still shall ye follow them, even unto your salvation."

--Seer from O Brother, Where Art Thou

gratitude.

Sacrifice. You're not doing it right if it's easy. Even for the Savior, it was difficult and he still suffered.

I'm so happy to be in Lexington. I'm so happy to be close to my two siblings and their families. I adore Esther, Lais (and Allison, even though you're far away)! I'm already protective over my nephews, and I can't imagine what it'll be like having my own family someday. I have a good job and am very blessed financially. I live in a lovely home because of the kindness of a sweet woman. I am so happy to see and spend time with my old, dear friend Nick--along with many others. I know the roads better than any other city I've ever lived in. This is home.  This is where my heart is.

I don't want this to end. But it will. So I'm going to enjoy every second of my time here and thank God every day that I have it.

story of my life.

color my life with the chaos of trouble.

Final Notations
Adrienne Rich

it will not be simple, it will not be long
it will take little time, it will take all your thought
it will take all your heart, it will take all your breath
it will be short, it will not be simple

it will touch through your ribs, it will take all your heart
it will not be long, it will occupy your thought
as a city is occupied, as a bed is occupied
it will take all your flesh, it will not be simple

You are coming into us who cannot withstand you
you are coming into us who never wanted to withstand you
you are taking parts of us into places never planned
you are going far away with pieces of our lives

it will be short, it will take all your breath
it will not be simple, it will become your will

there is a light that never goes out

The following symptoms can indicate an airborne infectious disease transmitted uncontrollably from one individual to another.

• Sweaty palms
• Loss of appetite
• Heart palpitations
• Dizziness
• Upset or fluttery stomach, as if some sort of flying insect was inside
• Inability to speak in coherent sentences
• Irrational perception of the world around, actually making sense
• Clumsiness
• Frequent and spontaneous day dreams
• Smiling for no reason 
• Insomnia

Should you experience such symptoms, take an emergency vacation for 18 months to Bermuda and your symptoms should disappear. 

Seven Deadly Sins

You're confident and charming in the spotlight,
while you naturally preach in vain condescension 
you can ignore what comes out of His mouth,
yet you undoubtedly claim, "his blood hath been shed!"

A spiral downward, enticed by a filled porcelain plate
an undying urge to gorge in such cravings
what you lack within, you've justified
by loosening that belt, from your last few helpings.

is it so wrong to have instant satisfaction?
Is awaking your carnal instincts worth the chance?
If you've tested the waters and still ask the question,
The thought alone can shoo the purest countenance.

you curse what awakens your still, dark slumber
yet you thrive on that which shines so bright
This life of dull and depleted energy within 
Left you to become a drained and sluggish mass.

Is that a want, a need you keep to yourself?

Does the thought of gaining more, seduce you?

Or are you merely distracted by your destitute hands
clenched on a precious ring you stole?

Anger breeds anger, from one to another transferred

like a burst of lighting that becomes a forest fire

the fury you shed consumes the air surrounding
soon you'll find yourself helplessly alone.

You're a pail with a crack dressing your side

No matter how much you're filled, you drain out

Despite years of service and charity you provided

Your self worth is only found in coveting others. 

ay carumba

One word: muffintop.

the art of being alone.

As a young and fully developed thirteen year old, a young man asked me for my phone number. I had butterflies in my stomach. My brother Thomas called him Smeagol (the deranged and obsessive hobbit). He called my home. We talked about the weather. Music. Family. You know, the ever-essential discussions that engulfed the fragile minds of thirteen. I had someone to connect with, and we connected for hours and hours. We had "our song" (the pop-punk of The Starting Line). We had our romance. We had our first kiss in the sticky back seats of a movie theater while Cheaper by the Dozen played. That Steve Martin sure knew how to set the mood.
Then shortly a year after, during high school, there was another. He seemed so proud to put his arm around me.
He was so excited to call me his girl. We shared "our song", but this was a different song. And by song, I mean, him plunking around on a bass guitar recorded onto a cheap tape player. The deep and spurratic bass notes were entitled, "Grace." It was the most romantic thing a boy had ever done for me. 
Following him came a strand of lovers. Each gave me the same butterflies. The music. The poetry. The ammunition for my brothers to make fun of them. Different shapes and sizes. One after another, I imagined what life could be. I somehow managed to pretend I'd spend the rest of my life with each one. And each relationship ended when someone better came around.
Experienced and fulfilled in the long term, short term, and 'fling' departments, I broke many hearts...never feeling the pain I thoughtlessly inflicted.
I found myself as a 21 year old living in Greeley, Colorado. A town where a meat factory exists and every two days, the streets are filled with the thick stench of the slaughterhouse. The same month I moved in, I decide to be a vegetarian. And it was the first time in eight years that I realized I was alone. But I wasn't lonely.

Zombies!

"When has anybody ever said, 'woah! I had a normal dream last night!' ?"
--Arthur Hatton


I had a dream last night that my home was being attacked by zombies. I was setting up barricades around the driveway, when I realized inside my garage emerged a long, reddish haired woman--zombie, of course. I looked for the nearest baseball bat and swung to save my life. After experiencing such terror, she stopped...looked at me and said, "Wait, why are you trying to kill me?"


I responded with, "Because you're trying to eat my brains!" 


Her reply was, "Why do zombies have such a ridiculous stereotype? Look, I'm not trying to kill you, I'm not trying to eat your brains, and you can trust me." 


We sat and discussed this concept for quite some time. I reached out my hand to shake hers in faith, and she took mine firmly. And we went on with our lives.


The end.

December 23, 2010

I had a date. This is the third, "formal" date I've had in 5 months. So, the man is making me dinner--Taiwanese, to be exact.

I told him I would surprise him with an American dessert. I drove to Walmart to pick something up (SO classy). I got the ingredients I needed and went out to my car. It wouldn't start. There was no budge, no light, nothing. Come on, it had to stop working NOW?! So there I was, standing in the freezing parking lot of Walmart with a cute outfit and my hair all curled, trying to pathetically lift the hood to see if it's possibly just a bad battery connection...and I can't even get the hood up! I felt like an idiot. So I called my parents to come pick me up.

They drove me to my date's apartment. They waved goodbye, both looking out of the car window with a 'thumbs up' as my date opened his front door, and they drove off giggling. 


*Apparently in Taiwan, if you whistle inside, it is calling evil spirits into the house. I had a really good song stuck in my head and whistled up a storm. Whoops. Thankfully he had a sense of humor...

a narrative for the english language.

Once upon a time in a whole nother country
their was alot of thirsty people walking in a dessert.
All of the sudden, one turned to his familial dissent and said,
"irregardless of my circumstances, I could care less."
the same exact time, he heard back "Thats rediculous! Your dumb and to much too handle."

meow.

Aaaahhhhh.....curiosity killed the grace.


I'm Free
(Written September 2010)


I take a step towards the sea
like the waves, I'm bold, I'm free!
no more tears and no more ache, 
yet, I feel divine heartbreak
To be here, I stand unsure
It seems to be my only cure
Acceptance, hope & faith in thee
I will cross this mighty sea

word associations.

let it all flow.
happy day. thoughts decay. world is gray. i think i'll stay.
free. to be me.
cold. as i'm told. i am not bold.
help, felt, time, kindness
love, hope, impatience, laughing
stop, dreadful cops. drops of liquid.
draining, slothful. unwinding.
scared. torn. divided. nervous.
heartbeat is steadysturdystreaming through me.

.

the thief and the healer/swing

thief and healer
(Written December 2010)


Who has disappeared? A thief, I think
A lapse in my memory, a missing link.
The last poisonous breath purged from my soul
No longer I feel someone else's control
Looking forward, never back
Brilliant colors engulfing the black
In fear I was blind, I look down to find
something so divine...his hand in mine!
He is my healer.
He is my friend.
He's the answer
on the other end.
Always listening, always there
Love eternal, heavenly care. 




Swing 
(Written for a BYU-I Poetry Contest in April 2009, won 2nd place)


a curse for this town escaped my tongue
it seems hardly worth my time
i push, i pull. i push, i pull.
Between these rusted chain links.
i've never worked so hard
to be reminded of my intertwined failures
my hands desperately clutch the rusted chains
dirt and gravel fill my shoes
With one arduous heave, the blue sky opens up
I reconsider where the heavens truly lie
is it unreachable, above me?
Or just one more push away?
i close my eyes to gather my spirits
and i outstretch my arm in the cool, crisp air
giving up--leaving my fate
in the wind, that gives me an extra boost
for the roles are opposite
for he that swings and he that pushes
and that same wind, i cannot see
assists me when i've done all i can

JG Wentworth - Its My Money & I Need It Now Commercial