Monday, December 21, 2015

Heart Language

I wanted to throw up I was so nervous
What was I doing here?
7,000 kilometers across the ocean for this?
I stood there mesmerized and taken in
reflecting back on every moment of musical inspiration
oh those priceless memories of  my childhood past
I wished you could have lived through them with me
then you would understand
now you never will
it was a moment lost in time
that perhaps did not culturally cross over as I expected
I felt so unworthy to stand there
the red lights charismatically dancing
this was the land of my flesh and blood
I looked them in the eye
our hearts were so different
as night is from the day
I silently prayed and just gave it all back to You
For this moment
for this hour
It was all for You, Your beautiful glory, heart and passion.
Perhaps the onlooking world will never quite understand
but at this point it doesn't matter,
and so I began to sing
in my UNheart language
Oh the sweet lingering melodies of this UNheart language
filled the air as an aroma of perfume
You truly understood this reflection
even if I didn't...

those memories of 18 years, nostalgically came back, she would have flown into the heavenlies
oh but how life changes
when you least expect it

One day you find yourself standing in the middle of an American charistmatic worship service passionately dancing and singing to Jesus

the next day standing in the middle of an American Christian metal mosh pit passionately dancing and screaming  for God's glory

the day after that looking into the soul of Europe...
oh those artistic streets of Dreseden
dusty rock corners of Polish woodstock
those childrens watery eyes in Macedonia
the fire in his Montenegran eyes
the cloudy tears of the Czech Republic
that nostalgic Albanian sunset
those secret Serbian handshakes
The Bosnian pastor's determination to share Christ's love in his city
 the jazzy cobblestone streets of Lithuania
Sharing God's love within the rock and metal scene...

its quite a  relentless mystery all these memories
perhaps certain moments aren't meant to marry each other
they aren't supposed to make sense
or to be understood by others
but rather a beautiful heart reflection between you and God...

Sunday, July 5, 2015

A Romantic"s Letter to this Beautiful Life

We can't have it all 
But we can make the most of the memories we have 
Long car rides in a nostalgic land that was the original home 
Losing yourself in his emerald blue eyes 
Singing of God"s endless love in Lithuanian at bible study 
Stranding yourself in the middle of nowhere with dear friends 
Wednesday prayer nights of hope with your dearest roomies, believing in God to do miracles of the impossible. 
Sipping banana chocolate lattes at midnight with your best friend talking about this beautiful life 
Singing Russian love songs in coffeeshops with an acoustic guitar
Late night walks after youth group lost under the starry Baltic sky...
We can't have it all, 
But we can make the most of the memories we have, 
Our hearts will break within our glass souls 
We will fall in love 
We will fall out of love 
Oh how short this life is! 
As we immortally lie to our mortal selves
Taking the ones we love for granted 
You are only 22 once 
Perhaps our lives didn't go as we planned, hoped or dreamed, but I thank God He had something even greater in mind 
I thank Him for 
Each smile 
Each heart felt laugh 
Each dear soul I have ever met in this beautiful life 
Each moment of artistic inspiration 
Each musical melody that ever danced across the catacombs of my wandering heart 
For Every time I was lost under your Baltic sky 
for every time I was lost under your American sky 
And every culture in between and beyond 
We can't have it all 
And I've finally come to peace with this reality 
But we can make the most of the memories we were blessed to be alive for. 

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Wine Red Lipstick

I'll never forget the day I stopped wearing "Wine is Everything" red lipstick
It was a slow loss of identity, as blood flows out of the body
How could such a small seemingly insignificant detail mean everything?
I wish we would have met when you saw that world on my lips
You met the "natural beauty" version
"Conservative" "Society" would have preferred that anyways,
but honestly you never knew what that color meant to me
You missed out on a part of my heart and soul I choose not to reveal
Or perhaps a part of me just died
and I chose to bury it in the grave
Once and for all. 

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The Rock Soul

I sprawled myself across the cold earth as if in snow angel formation
I turned onto the other side as if the dirt were my pillow
and listened for its heartbeat,
the world was silent in the middle of the dark forest
I held my breath,
and I felt a small thump,
In the land of my own flesh and blood,
it was indeed some sort of heart beat,
 but not one that I recognized or grew up with.
I looked into the reflection of a nearby puddle,
those facial features were deeply embedded and sewn in this earth,
confirming its origin,
but the soul,
Oh this Beloved soul,
that heart,
beated from another land,
another time,
another place,
another artistic inspiration,
another melody,
there was no rock soul to be found,
not a trace,
not a breath,
not a single kiss,
I cried,
as if it were the biggest insulting joke of life ever experienced.
I screamed.
Olive green pants drowning now in mud from tears.


There were choices to be made,
conform and be like the rest, disown this rock soul, OR
show the world, a unique interpretation of redemptive musical life,
and face the risk of being judged, mocked, rejected and disowned.
It just seemed so irrelevant,
but for some reason the heartbeat within,
weakly whispered not to give up,
reflecting a lifeless face
missing wine red lipstick
an over conservative
art starved
musically deprived
fear trapped
 stranger I didn't recognize....

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

The Kindness of the World

She found herself sitting on a bench in the city centre
What a luminous sunny day it was
With her coffee stained tattered journal
Which held her most precious thoughts of the heart

She looked up and saw a young man, near the age of 20, black leather jacket, sea green brown eyes, back brushed sandy blond hair, he smiled as he said goodbye to his friends,
As he walked passed her she could see the deep sadness in his eyes. He was hiding some secret. The tears slowly formed as he turned the corner to cover his face.

The rest of the world went on like nothing ever happened.

A young lady, dressed in a wine red dress, with dark curly hair, so beautiful. Underneath she was a dreamer, struggling with doubt, society judged her, she really wanted to give up, Praying someone would reach out, support her.

The rest of the world went on like nothing ever happened.

Another unkept man,  slowly moved down the road, long hair past his chin, smoking a cigarette, with a stern look on his face, others cringed and gave him strange looks of disgust.

The rest of the world went on like nothing ever happened.

An older woman, probably in her 60s was practically crawling up the bank steps, she outstretched her trembling hand for the door’s handle, but couldn’t make it.

The rest of the world went on like nothing ever happened.

A teenage girl with hair dyed blue, bright red nails and lipstick, the wind caught her black long sleeve shirt to reveal scars on her wrist.

The rest of the world went on like nothing ever happened.

After several hours of observation....with unbearable tears  in my eyes and a heavy heart I  closed my wet seemingly ocean drowned journal. 

Thursday, February 5, 2015

My World

Artistic inspiration is
his sea glass blue eyes
her dark wine red lipstick
peacock patterned leggings
the abstract mess of pictures on the desk
a prayer room created from the heart

Artistic inspiration is
the colors of  a Lithuanian sunset
the young Czech man playing a sad and haunting melody on his guitar
the laughter of a  Croatian woman
a young Polish man’s long black dreadlocks
singing worship songs in Serbian
the taste of Italian tomatoes

Artistic inspiration is
the rushing clear mountain rivers of Bosnia
hiding in a bush at 1am  in Kosovo
talking to three pastors in Montenegro
breathing in the air of putrid fish in Iceland
a sunny abandoned Macedonian road

Artistic inspiration is
the endless late night conversations of dear friends
her echoing laughter
the relentless fire in her eyes

once lived memories of the travelers heart  

Thursday, January 22, 2015

What They Said

They said sit 
I danced
They said scientific English 
I wrote creative 
They said be silent 
I screamed 
They said this wall will remain blank white 
I painted it the colors of the Baltic Sea sunset 
They said conform
I stood out 
They said give up it's no use
I pursued it with relentless passion
They said be normal 
I told them I would rather die than disown the heart and soul of who I am