Blog Manifesto

Blog Manifesto


This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.

We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)

Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!

Sunday, April 22, 2012

walk with me..


He speaks and the sound of His voice,
is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
and the melody that He gave to me
within my heart is ringing.
And He walks with me,
and He talks with me,
and He tells me I am His own;
and the joy we share as we tarry there,
none other has ever known.

my grandma's favorite hymn.. in the garden
*****
i am at odds
until now, i had wiped my hands clean of my brother
i havent made a move in one direction or the other concerning him
just kept on keepin' on
ignoring his existance
reminding my dad not to mention him in our conversations
if i dont think about him, i dont get mad or.. wistful

i am working on myself
and i need a lot of work
my thoughts drift back to him
i look in the mirror.. and i think
maybe

so the topic 'walk with me comes up'
and the only thing i can think of
is the only person i know.. who is missing a leg.
who has a stilted walk..
who's back is bent..
who's burden is loathsome..
my brother.

when we were kids
nothing kept him down
now.. even i cannot lift him up

his life is stilted and halting
i feel compassion
for the first time in years

and i ask myself.. am i ready to forgive him
am i ready to ask him to walk with me again
as brothers
as men

or is he the lost cause i have feared all along..
is he too far gone..
are we twins.. destined to walk.. alone?


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2 comments:

  1. RosieApril 22, 2012 at 8:50 PM

    Well done JC.

    Outstanding. OH god. oh god.

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  2. reeseApril 22, 2012 at 9:05 PM

    JC...
    Beautiful writing! You start out singing your grandma's favorite hymn and in the same breath, you are talking of reconciling...you have a connection...you are brothers...you are feeling!!! You will never know the answer to your last 3 sentences unless you ... you know what you have to do!

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