Two Roads

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." - Robert Frost

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Still...

So many stories
in my head
Laughing, and crying
Amusing, and haunting
Springing up unbidden
Dying off too slowly.

My mind races, my heart beats
But words...they do not come.
In the early morning
I feel them tickling
Flirting, and playing
with my mind.

Late at night in the dark
They crowd, they confuse
Taunting, and mourning
The loss of expression.
In dreams they explode
In the silence they deafen

Yet still they lie hidden
Still I can hear them
Still...they come.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Possum Surprise...

  Just call me...Raul! I live in Hervey Bay, Queensland Australia, and yes, I am a possum. Proud to be one too. If you ever want to find my house, just think again! One thing you should know about me? I hate humans! With a passion! Why? 
  1. They throw dirty water on you.
  2. They laugh at you when you defend yourself.
  3. They turn tail and run at the first sign of a glare.
  Don't believe me? I'll prove it. I was hanging out at my cousin's house one night, and just about to go home. So I started down his tree and stopped dead in my tracks. There was a man, a young man, standing 4 feet away, staring at me. In his hand he held a pot full of dirty water, and his eyes were bulging out of his head with surprise. Don't know his name, so we'll call him Mr. A.

A = Annoying.

  Neither one of us moved. We stared. I thought he might be sensible and go away. Nope. He called in a loud voice for his friends to come see me. What am I? Some kind of freak show? I'm a possum...what's so amazing about that?! Well, half a dozen other people gathered around him and crowded together in the doorway. Laughing, giggling, talking about me. Mr. A. stood in front of them all. Pot still in hand. I moved two steps. They all screamed and squealed. 
  Mr. A. decided it wasn't exciting enough. So what did he do? He splashed water on me out of the pot! Annoying much? YES! One of the girls, a sweet funny little thing, told him to stop it. We'll call her Miss C. 

C = Comical. 

  Mr. A. didn't pay any attention to her. He did it again then jumped back towards the door a bit. The girls squealed, as well as Miss C. but she told him to stop again. Said I'd get mad and then what would he do? Why can't all humans be like her?! The two other guys in the group went separate directions: one into the bushes, the other towards the gate. I was quite annoyed and upset by now. So I hissed. It was a warning. Some of them shrieked, Mr. B. (Mr. Bushman) and Mr. G. (Mr. Gateman) both retreated. Mr. A. made a face and threw his arms up, trying to look big and scary I suppose. 

 I was not impressed.
  I was not amused.
  I'd had enough.
  I was angry!

  And so...I hissed again and took a couple steps down the tree. Miss C. thought it was quite funny by now because Mr. A. was starting to freak out. I continued hissing. Mr. A. continued to press against the other people in the door, trying to get inside. Miss C. pushed him out, laughing as she did so. He freaked out more. I laughed with Miss C. inwardly, but outwardly I'd had MORE than enough. I charged!
  And that was the end of it all. Everyone shrieked inside, closed the doors, and I could hear Mr. A. and Miss C. arguing. I crept away, angry, but a little amused. Mr. B. and Mr. G. soon crept back inside the house as well. Humans...they're the bane of my existence! 


  But Miss C., I have to admit, is quite funny!

  This is Raul, signing off!  

(pictures taken on location in Hervey Bay

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Home

  Home. There's nothing quite like it. Nothing quite like looking out your window and seeing the reeds of the pond outside, with mountains and trees behind them. Nothing quite like walking down your quiet street, or knowing the faces of people you see as you speed downtown. Nothing quite like feeling the wind from the open taxi window, the potholes that never end, or listening to the music that mixes together then fades away as you move on.
  Random shadows, well known faces...both dance through your mind and memory with every step you take. Voices reach your ears as you open the gate. It's like opening the top to a treasure chest. Out spring old joys, old sorrows, old pleasures, and old pains. And they're thoroughly loved.

  It's beauty.
  It's pure pleasure.


  You walk through the open market. Smells all mix together. New shoes, fish, fresh fruit, rotten fruit, exhaust from taxis, and the beautiful smell of hot fresh bread...they all mix together in one huge aroma known as downtown. Trash and dirt mean nothing; mud is a much loved sight. The sound of rain on your window as you lie in bed at night, the pounding of a hammer in the back yard, the earthy smell that fills your lungs every time you leave your house...it's familiar.

  It's lovely.
  There's nothing quite like it.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Sleepless Night...

Oh, sleepless night,
Where do you go?
Remembering the joys
Remembering the sorrow
Does it help at all?
Will I ever know?

I took a chance
I took a risk
You told me of the dance,
Reminded me of beauty.
What a sad romance
To remember so late.

These thoughts, and dreams,
These memories
Endless as the night is long,
Block out the forest, not the trees
A mystery locked up...
Will I find the keys? 


Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Friends...

Friends...
They make you laugh
They make you cry

Friends...
They bring you joy
They break your heart

Friends...
The love goes deep
Enough to die

Friends...
Is letting go
The hardest part?


Thursday, September 16, 2010

Fly...

  So, I know I've heard this song before, but I forgot about it and just found it again. I believe what it says is true and that's why I named my blog 'Fly' (not because of this song, and not after the bug!). I believe God wants us to fly with Him, to step off the edge, see nothing but Him, pay attention to no one but Him, and trust that He'll take us where He wants us to go, and do great things through and for Him. And, of course, there will be bumpy hard parts too. So, I don't want to babble on too much, but I've pasted some of the lyrics up, just the ones that really stand out to me (you can look up the rest if you want to). Hope you enjoy! :)




I close my eyes
Everything disappears but Your smile
I raise my hands
On a cliff I stand
Arms open wide
You’re the Father, I’m the child
You whisper to me,
“Step off the edge
Leave it all behind, leave it all behind
Cut loose, cut loose the ties
Let go, let go!”

For way too long I’ve settled for these lies
When so much more has been waiting on the other side
I think it’s time we cross this river so wide
Leave these shores, step off the edge
Leave it all behind, leave it all behind
Cut loose, cut loose the ties
Let go, let go!

Fly! Fly! You can fly!
Leave the ground, leave the ground
Go and fly!
This is what you, you were meant to fly!


Song by Jonathan David Helser

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

I miss you...

I reach out to touch the clouds
They disappear, fade away
Oh, those sights are so clear -
And I miss you...

All these voices in my mind
All these faces written in my heart
Old friends, new friends
All of them dear friends

I close my eyes, my soul returns
It's a beautiful day
We walk slow, then laugh loud -
And I miss you...

Sharpened and Forged...

Burned, scorched, fried
in the flames meant to mold me.
I stuck out a hand,
stepped off to the side,
let down my shield,
and down I was thrown!
The pain, the regret
The sluggish will
to get back up,
to fight again...
The quiet voice
whispering to stay,
to sleep, to forget and ignore
the knowledge and wisdom,
that I'd heard before.
Yet desperate, depressed,
stubborn and slow to obey
your love still props me up,
still strengthens and straightens
my shield so I can fight,
till I can sit.
And day by day, the battle's on!
Hope's not lost yet, Faith still believes
that I will rise again.
No longer burned, or scorched, or fried
by flame's unceasing heat,
but for every tear shed, ever cried
I will be
more sharpened and forged by fire!

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Walking

Running from memory
Running from history
Running from all I know
Running, I can't go slow

Faces inside my head
Heart weighed down
Like a pound of lead
Faith has brought me to a crossroad
Have to decide
To lay down the load

Fear and feeling
Come in, overwhelming
A tearing pain
That has no gain



Walking through memory
Walking through history
Walking through all I know
Walking, I've gotta go slow

Walking with you by my side
Walking with you, I won't hide

I know it won't be a ball
But it's still a dance
I give you my all
Faith has led to a crossroad
Have to decide
To lay down the load

Fear and feeling
Come in, overwhelming
A tearing pain
That has no gain

I give them to you
You give me strength that's new
Walking is a choice
So I shout and lift my voice


Thursday, September 9, 2010

Horror Cheetos...

Caution: If you have a weak stomach and get queasy very easily, please do not proceed. The following story is of a car ride...

  Imagine this: Green. Everything is green. The grass, the trees, and the car are green. It's a small five person Buick. It's Sunday, Church is over, and it's time to go home. Home is two hours away over narrow, winding roads full of potholes. No matter, it's still time to go home. Six people pile their luggage into the trunk of said car, then place the rest in the seats with them as they pile in.
  The mother's in the driver seat. The oldest child is in the passenger seat with hand bags around her, and four other children are squeezed into the back seat, bags at their feet as well. The engine starts. The mother pulls onto the highway nervously. It's been a long day, maybe the children will go to sleep? Silence is ordered as they start down that frightfully steep hill that people stall on going up, and can lose their breaks on going down. Silence has been commanded, therefore silence is given as each child begins to think that this will be the last journey they will ever make. Death must certainly be in store.
  The bottom of the hill is reached.
  The car is still running.
  The mother relaxes slightly...but not much!
  They begin to wind slowly through the hills, doors locked. Soon some of those in the back seat start to feel sick. There's no air. The littlest ones are too small to see out the windows and they're known for having weak stomachs anyway.
  "Mommy, I'm going to throw up, can't we stop?" Comes a small frantic voice.
  "No!" Comes the tense answer from the frightened mother. "I'm not stopping on this highway. It's not safe."
  Seconds pass.
  "But mommy, I feel sick! I'm going to throw up!" Comes the cry. Before anyone can do anything the sound of retching is heard from the same individual. The two kids next to her freak out as vomit covers her fleece jacket spread conveniently over her lap, and the second oldest makes a silent, solemn promise to never eat cheetos again. She'd rather starve in the future than consume the same vile substance that's all over that coat.
  The smell of apple and artificial cheese fill the car. There's no air. Those that already felt sick start to feel worse and start to cry. It's raining outside. Open windows are out of the question. Stopping is out of the question. The second oldest is ordered to gather up the jacket and it's prize and place it somewhere "safe" on the non-existent floor. Mom's stressed. There's no doubt about that. The girl reaches over and does as she's told. Apple pop? Never again! She bends down and rearranges things on the floor, her siblings whining at the bags on their feet and laps. Finally she finds a place for the "package". She leans her head against the window.
  The smell.
  The winding road.
  No air.
  The continual talk of sickness.
  And all the bending over...
  Her stomach starts to churn. Cheetos are all she can think of. She hasn't felt this sick in her entire life. Air, that's all anyone wants. Cheetos are on everyones mind...
  "Mommy, I'm going to throw up too!" The youngest one cries out.
  "Here!" The mom hands back a small bag. It's a chip bag. It's a cheeto bag.
  "Hold it for her!" The second child is ordered. "Everyone look out the window or go to sleep!" The mom is still freaking out. The youngest looses it. The second child starts to cry as she holds the cheeto bag for her little sister. Vomit is on her fingers. She's afraid the bag might overflow if her sister doesn't stop soon. She can't look at it or she'll start to hurl too. There's a major crisis in the back seat. The rest of the drive becomes a blur.
  Tears.
  Vomit.
  No air.
  The cheeto bag is held hatefully, yet carefully in the lap of the second oldest. Why? The mother will not allow her to litter. Cruelness! Sad day! Sick day! A day to remember. A ride to never be forgotten.


In all fairness, my mother had a reason to be scared, nervous, and tense. We were on a dangerous, secluded highway in Mexico and didn't have a phone (if I remember correctly). The rain was also not her fault. There was nothing anyone could do about it, and the only way to see out was to have the defrost on. So there was no air. This was also before we started carrying a "barf-bucket" with us, and so there was nothing to be done. I'm simply thankful that I've never had to repeat that exact same journey, and that I can now laugh at it. But cheetos still disgust me...and while I enjoy apple juice, I can no longer enjoy apple pop...especially Manzana Lift. 

(The volcano close to my house)


o.k. so my mom claims that we did litter with the cheeto bag full of barf. So, I will believe her and say that we did. :) 

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Whirlwind of Joy

On the limbs of trees
As they rock and they sway
Take me away
On the leaves, through the storm

Be they burnt red of Fall
Or the bright buds of Spring
Whether the birds sing
Or they're silent, and through the winter frost

Whatever the season
Take me in your arms, warm,
Through every storm
On a whirlwind of joy

Top Secret Cows: MK Scientists Gone Wild...

  Ever had that feeling of being watched? Kind of like your every move was known to someone, that your every habit was being critiqued and taken note of? Ever believed that someone could tell exactly what you were thinking just by watching, and studying, your facial expressions? I have, and I know that all those feelings are true.
  I can't tell you my real name...it might get out. I could be fired, or worse, I might mysteriously disappear. So for now, I'll stick to the name Sandy. I'm seventeen. I'm a child genius with a PHD in Science. You would never dream what my brain can do by just looking at me. Most people think I'm your average high schooler. That's my cover life. They don't realize that I can do all of my homework in forty-five minutes flat, hack any computer system on the planet (I don't care where you're from or what level of security you have to government secrets), and build microscopic cameras when I'm not on a "job". Don't doubt my abilities, and I won't doubt yours.

(Island of the COSIMK)

  This year I went to my usual appointment with my leader from the board of COSIMK (Central Organization of Surveillance and Infiltration of Missionary Kids). He's a funny little Irish man with flaming read hair, and the best dry sense of humor ever. His sarcasm is so distinct, so sly that sometimes you might miss it. And he seems tough as nails, but underneath he's a sweet old man that cares an awful lot more than you might believe. Anyway, Dr. Harry (not his real name) told me about a new project that they wanted me and some other scientists like me to work on.
  When he first described it to me I thought he was joking...I seriously thought he was trying to get my goat. I thought it was that incredible sarcasm of his. When I finally realized that he was serious I sat there dumbfounded! And when the project actually worked I almost couldn't believe my eyes. I'd thought Dr. Harry was crazy, and you'll think I am by the time I'm done. But I'm not; I promise...just give me a chance to explain it to you, because once you get beyond the craziness it's just plain brilliant!
  It all starts with cows. Yes, you don't have to re-read that to be sure you read the right thing, and I didn't make a typo and really mean corn either. Cows. Dr. Harry and the rest of the COSIMK wanted us to alter cows, to make a special kind of cow. Why cows? Of what use or interest could the possibly be to us as a secret group out to conquer? Scroll down and see for yourself.

(secret barn of cows belonging to COSIMK)
  • Fact: Every nation in the world either has a cow, wants a cow, needs a cow, or has heard of a cow.
  • Fact: Cows are, for the most part, timid, well bred animals with a friendly disposition. 
  • Fact: Cows are the kind of creature that no one would ever suspect as a culprit in an undercover mission.
  • Fact: Science has advance a lot over the past fifty years.
  • Fact: Chimpanzees are outdated. People need to be original.
  So what exactly did Dr. Harry and the rest of the COSIMK want us, the brilliant scientists, to do with these cows? They wanted us to make low water cows. That's right, your eyes are not deceiving you. They wanted us to breed and alter a cow so that it would:
  1. Consume less water.
  2. Gain and maintain the IQ of an 8th grader.
  3. Continue to look like any other cow around it. 
  I thought the Dr. was nuts, we all did actually (there were five of us), but what can you do when you're ordered to do something like this by the most powerful, secret, and dangerous group of people on earth?! We complied. We did as we were told. We obeyed orders. Did we actually believe that it would work? No. Definitely no. The first few days we just messed around. We read a few of the pages in the folder given us, played chess, and hacked several computer systems. Eventually I got bored and took to reading the folder instead, hoping to get some amusement or pleasure out of it. The more I read, the more I began to realize just how plausible this experiment was. So I tried it, gently at first, then full on. It worked! The cows responded exactly as expected! They began to learn how to talk, consumed no more than one cup of water a day, and started to memorize certain math equations, even began to work on Algebra and a little geometry. I showed my colleagues and we dove head into the project. I got so excited about it all that I even got a B in History at school! So, why the excitement about low water cows? They could be and are such a break through!
  • Fact: There is an inadequate access to safe drinking water for about 884 million people, and inadequate access to water for sanitation and waste disposal for 2.5 billion people. 
  • Fact: If cows drink less, less water will be consumed, therefore people in need of water and meat will more easily be able to keep a cow!
  • Fact: If cows can be altered like this, doesn't it there follow that other animals and possibly even humans can be adjusted to using and consuming less water? 
  I must run! The Transportation Vehicle to take me to work will be here any minute. Believe me or don't, but wait and see! We're still working on the cows and one of these days they'll be the engineers building your skyscrapers and designing your highways!
  Side note: The PK's are struggling frantically to keep up with us, but so far all they've accomplished is having their cow attain the ability to survive on two cups of water a day and recite the alphabet over and over again. When will they understand that they just can't win?!


(Idea dedicated to G.C. for having first listened to it)

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Soft Rays


Soft rays of sun
An old train track
Unending cracks
In a broken old road

Soft rays of sun 
Promises, hope
Long spoken words
of love, hardship, and joy





An old train track
A long journey
well worn and used
But safe, and quite secure



Unending cracks 
The poor mistakes
of one foolish
stumbling coward...they're mine

Soft rays of sun
To these I cling
I soak them up
Never let them leave my side


Saturday, September 4, 2010

Conviction...

What good is all of this knowledge,
if it never sinks to your heart?
What good is a change of heart,
if you can't make your mind agree?

We powder and puff ourselves up
with knowledge, learning and wisdom.
We make up a mask of courage
of love, understanding, and peace.

But we miss the dire connection
that the mind and heart should contain.
When will we get the whole picture?
Will it cost us our lives to see?

This walk is about more than love...
It's where love and conviction meet.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Top Secret: Proceed with Caution!!!

  It's said that there is an island. It's an island that no one can find unless they know exactly where it is. If you don't know where it is, then chances are that you'll never find it and you don't belong there either. No, this is not Pirates of the Caribbean. It's not even close to that. But some people think that Pirates is a good story, and all good stories have to come from somewhere, right? Well, that story came from the top secret information that I'm about to disclose to you...

Warning: Proceed with caution. The following information could prove to be harmful and deadly. Read at your own risk. 




  Some may call me crazy, others may even believe that and try to prove it. But before we go any further, let's just settle the fact that I'm not! I know who the first president of the U.S. was, and I can count how many fingers you're holding up in front of my face with no difficulty at all. So no, I'm not crazy. But, there is an organization more powerful, more secretive, and more intricate than the CIA. It's found on this island that I spoke of in the beginning.

  • Name of island? It has no name. It would be a security threat to give it one.
  • Type of agents in organization? The agents of said organization are highly trained, highly adaptable young people spread and scattered throughout every nation on earth. 
  • Agent's code names? They're most commonly known as MK's (Missionary Kids)
  • Languages spoken by said MK's? About 99.9% of them speak two to five languages each.
  • Their mission? World dominance. They infiltrate every sphere of society. As they grow older they practice and study whatever they do best. Some pose as teachers, others as major businessmen, others as doctors and scientists. Truth is you can find them everywhere and anywhere.

  Wherever you might be, believe me, these MK's know all about you. They have microphones and cameras planted everywhere - even in your private home! They know and archive all your personal information. The leaders of this organization were once MK's themselves. They have joined together, one from every nation in the world, and their dream is to one day rule the world without any of us knowing it! They claim to all be working for one man, to all be under his direction and authority. And they claim that he is the most powerful of all! Each leader speaks 15 different languages and has a PHD in Science, Linguistics and International Studies, or History.
  They're intelligent.
  They're powerful.
  They're deadly.
  Each one has a meeting with a different agent every day. But don't be fooled, not every MK you come across is an agent. Some don't even know about the existence and purpose of the island. But those that do know would never tell you. They protect their own above everything else. They swear a stronger loyalty to the island above that of their own countries.

  • What brings and holds them all together? Their mutual understanding of the world, their yearning for identity, and the most powerful leader they have.
  • What language is spoken on the island? One no one else can understand. It's a combination of nineteen different languages. Easy to learn, impossible to find anywhere else. 
  • Who is their longtime competitor and arch-enemy? Those known as PK's (Pastor's Kids). The PK's are searching for the same world dominance. They are powerful and highly intelligent as well. Yet one thing stands in their way: They do not have the same cross-cultural training that the MK's have. Thus, they cannot relate to one another's different cultures and unity is more difficult.
  • What happens to those that are born as both? They reach age fifteen, they decide where their loyalties lie. 

  I must run! The cameras are on me, and two agents are at my door this very minute! I beg you, come find me, save me, and help me defeat this group before they take over!!!

- Me -

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Poetry.

Poetry
All around me.
Laughing,
Playing,
Flirting with my mind.
I see it in action.
No real words for it,
No description
Can do it justice.
So instead
I watch it,
Hear it,
Close my eyes and feel it.
It's laughing,
Playing,
Flirting with my mind...
It's poetry.