Chambers' words of Wisdom

Matthew 6:30
"If God so clothe the grass of the field... shall He not much more clothe you?" [Taken from the January 26 entry in Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest]

The time noted on this entry will do well to tell of the circumstances with which I write this. So, this entry I read in my devotional fits so nicely. I was reading it to try to give myself something to meditate on as a means of falling asleep. I had to make a task of this after I was kept awake by the "cares of this world," namely the noise of others whose inconsiderate nature pushes my mind dizzily in an effort to comprehend it.

But I realize to quickly in the light of God's word that to lay these things to rest is to work toward a better, more Christ like, soul. The connection to my own life is so available to me that it's hard just to type it. Rest in the soul comes like trying to fall asleep. The things I meditate on take me there and calm my thoughts into heavenly bliss or trouble my mind to torturous nightmares.

It's hard to keep going at this point, writing that is. I keep trying to think of all the ways I can help make this work in the days to come, but for the most part I need to try and sleep again knowing that God has spoken into my life. It is His assistance that smoothes the waters of of a troubled sleep and it is my prayer that it also pacify my waking moments.

Love Poems

Your skin glows like the Strawberry, blossoms bright as the lilly in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your sax voice and leaps like a teddy bear at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great dove wing.
I am comforted by your sweater that I carry into the twilight of underwearbeams and hold next to my neck.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of water.
As my lip falls from my scarf, it reminds me of your computer.
In the quiet, I listen for the last beep-boop of the day.
My heated thigh leaps to my jeans. I wait in the moonlight for your secret DVD so that we may go as one, thigh to thigh, in search of the magnificient black and mystical Eugene of love."

The online adlib style poem generator Phylah and I made on our six-month anniversary. I hate it when she watched me type because I knows she is bettah... oh a kiss

AM in A Flat

'Tis a good morning. I would like to say, however, being not of a time period where such remarks work well it might illicit a response I am not intending. Needless to say then that I am having a pleasant morning just before noon.

Sound Track - Jazz compilation from Cowboy Bebop, no doubt provided for me some time ago by Kaioken. Excellent friend in long standing K was frequently an avenue through which I attained a nice array of files and programs.

To the buisness at hand. I will have to become more open to the idea of blogging as part of routine. I don't want to pattern it, say in a specific hour of everyday, but something to keep my head thinking, 'you know, that would be a nice addition to marbles, you should keep that in me (mind)'. However good I might become at remembering things that I would like to think about later, it's getting rid of the poor puns and sketchy material that I have a hard time with.

Head of the Class

First day as a T.A. in class this evening. I was afraid I had made a mistake by choosing to sit with someone I knew in the back of the class and wish I would have done it a little differently. However, the class was so full I had little choice other than a seat right next to the Profs. desk which, in my opinion, could have seemed slightly presumptuous. I was introduced by a single statement, which worked nicely and got people to look over at me as I made my way to the back so at least students know my face. I plan to make a more formal address for next class' meeting.

The subject material is interesting to say the least, and there is almost no way not to engage it in discussion. I think very highly of Chico State's English department and know that I will be impressed with its students. Plans are already underway to help myself be as much of a resource as possible and I hope to make myself available in whatever ways I am needed. Professor B. has been exemplary in his encouragement and if I am stunned and slightly overwhelmed at the class' beginning it is only because of his display of the possibilities.

In Your Eyes

I would have to say that, although dated, Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes is a wonderful song with touching emotion. In actuality, songs like that are more connotative of time, place, and person that actually judged on musical merit. In this instance my girlfriend springs to mind in vivid detail as does our date eating Grilled Cheese sandwiches on the living room floor while watching Benny and Joon. I am having the pleasure of spending the evening with her tonight and we are going to do some moving into her new place. A great pleasure being of service to someone so beautiful and kind. So, true, and song that reminds me of her, her grace, any time spent is ranked very highly.

Technological Toys Trump Food Staple

Well, It would seem that I have had enough fun with the audioblogger, but I am still in shock as to how cool it is. I mean, sliced bread is having to rework it's material in order to compete.

I thought this poem was fitting because, in its own way, this blog site is my own elgin marbles. Howowever, I will not be faced with the same inspiring dillema as Keats is here. To the best of my knowledge there will never be any degradation of this site or for that matter any well maintained digital media. Of course that is fairly short sighted, but the point remains. Sure something could come along and alter the structure of archives and servers to where what I write here may come never to exist. But in that respect it would be as if it had never existed at all and that's my point.

Perhaps, like Hackers, some Zero Cool or Lord Nikon will excavate some form of stored media from some nondescript pile of rubble and follow their techno-lust in order to discover what it contained, only to discover fragments of code that little resemble the original. So I suppose there can be some romantic effort to frame this global dialog into some self sustaining achitecture. You'll have to excuse my lack of specifics here, I am but an eager student of the written English word and am not, and shall not, ever be on the cutting edge of understanding all things computer. But, at least for our sake, I hope my knowledge of the existence of things helps to explore the relationship of things such as this Blog and the over all virtual world, as it is coming into being and being understood by our culture.

I am somewhat under the impression that these entries are suppose to be shorter. You'll please to excuse my verbosity, to the extent that my trade makes me susceptable to it.

Dedication

To this poem do I owe the title of this, my Blog;

On Seeing the Elgin Marbles for the First Time
~John Keats

My spirit is too weak; mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a sick eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep,
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an indescribable feud;
So do wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time -with a billowy main,
A sun, a shadow of a magnitude.