Don't Go

Stay but a while. The lock of hair that fell upon your brow with a turn of your head inspired me.  Every woman is a song and I hear your lyrics in the sigh of smooth jazz wafting on the sour/sweet scent of your quiet longing.  Your gaze lingered for a moment infinestimably brief and the history of your dreams deceased was written upon my memory.
Nay, but remain with me a moment longer.  Your weariness tastes of desperation.  An absent gesture to relocate the hair from your brow and the timepiece on your arm flashes heavy with time recorded waiting for an unseen chance of change.  Your reflection in the window backlit by passing establishments records forever the shadow of the aborted tear you forced back to save your makeup.  Some nights, when the tones of sunset lie just so upon the glass it will still be seen there; glistening and forgotten.
I pray you, do not depart.  Every woman is a song and I listen to your melancholy riffs as I watch you miss the way he sat beside you and made you feel safe on a bus full of tweakers and desert rats.  If you would but remain aboard, I would take your hand and fill his place.
Your stop arrives, you disembark, and sorrow is taken by the wind that lifts your hair and all shadow of longing is tossed away with the Autumn leaves at your feet as you see him.  As your face alights with joy, your former sorrow catches in my heart.  We pull away and all I can do is watch through the rear window as you embrace and I silently call behind:
Please,
        Don't go.

Warrior Poet: a Reflection

Initially, the image that comes to mind is a fierce and valiant knight clad in dented armor pledging love to a maiden by means of a well-versed poem or pitch-perfect song. Answers.com states that a warrior poet is, “the ancient tradition of dedication to developing the body and the mind as one”.  The argument I would present to answers.com, however, in terms of present-day application of the term is that a warrior poet’s two halves—battle and song—are housed, and thereby determined by the heart.

                You see, not all who lift weights, eat “right”, and read Shakespeare are warrior poets.  Not all who write songs, paint portraits, and buy organic are warrior poets.  Not all who spend all their time sitting in a room illuminated solely by the hearth-fire, listening to Mozart while sipping cognac and contemplating the works of Aristotle and Darwin are warrior poets.

                A warrior poet is someone who fights their way through spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical battles with a heart of love that shares what is learned in these battles with others through the gift of words—poems, songs, stories.  The warrior poet fights to better him-or her-self for the goal of blessing and bettering others through their crafts. 

                It’s not a bettering of the mind in terms of knowledge.  Mountains of knowledge learned for knowledge’s sake stand useless next to idle application.  A warrior poet seeks wisdom—the application of knowledge learned through life experiences (though the experience need not be one’s own).

                It’s not about bettering the body through exercise and diet. These “tents” are temporary.  Care is needed to maintain and be proper stewards of these bodies, but they are under our control, not the other way around.  Our bodies need to be subjected to us, but obsession with them draws our focus in the wrong direction.  They are our tools to be used in service.

                But the battles are not fought with these bodies.  “We do not fight against flesh and blood…”

                A true warrior poet fights and loves in the spirit. 

                Therefore, the two halves—battles and song—are housed and determined by the heart.

                I have had the supreme pleasure of knowing a few of these people.

                Andrew Dieleman: Andy has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever experienced.  If it were needed of him, he would give all that he had to help or better someone he loved.  He doesn’t believe he’s as good a writer as I try to tell him he is.  Andy is currently constructing his first novel and I have the honor of tasting the first drafts. 

                Amy Leigh: Amy Leigh is a very self-aware poet with a lust for love.  Her words, both in prose and in verse, are steeped in it and its sweet fragrance permeates everything she shares in her work.  She has taught in Bahrain and loved children in a day care here in the States.  Amy Leigh has written numerous poems and last I heard was looking to publish a manuscript of reflections aimed at helping young women come to know themselves.

                Kent: Like Andy, Kent doesn’t believe me when I tell him how good a writer he is; which just serves to make him that much better.  Kent is a man of formidable stature—standing six-three-or-four with a second-degree black belt in Tae Kwan Do.  He’ll go break bricks all afternoon with his finger, come home to play with the dog he adores, and then sit down to compose a song or “whip up” a beautiful drawing (both of which are skills I would murder to possess).  Kent has a tenderness you have to know him to see and has on at least one occasion held me like a brother while I wept.    His plotlines have always been better than mine.

                Brady:  Brady is the most brilliant actor I know, one of the most forgiving men I know, and the brother who has gone through the most levels of Hell by my side. Though he and I are self-made brothers who’ve shared trials, secrets, dreams, and fears as our lives have progressed and changed, we foster a rivalry that drives each of us to be better than the other.  Brady is a ridiculously talented actor, director, designer, and playwright and has me beat in all arenas…for now.

                Dr. Bob: Out of all the afore-mentioned warrior poets, I hold Dr. Bob in the highest regard as my hero.  He is a brilliant man who fought through family battles, personal set-backs, and the stress of teaching people like me and emerged as my favorite director, an inspirational storyteller, an honest and supportive mentor, and a dear friend.  I value his opinion highly and tuck away anything he teaches me. He is a loving husband, adoring father, and brilliant teacher. When I think of warrior poets he is the first that comes to mind.

                It is a privilege to have these people as significant parts of my life.  Though I can only wish to reach a level  close to any of them, it is my intention to use this blog as a mirror to my battles and songs, and hope that in the sharing someone may be inspired as I have been inspired by the warrior poets in my life.  In this blog you will find personal reflections, poems, and stories.  I ask only that if you read on and invest your time, that you will invest also your thought and consideration as I invest my thought and care in the sharing.