Meta-Noia (Slightly Edited)
Meta-Noia
(Slightly Edited Revison)
This is a fairly long dhrgen / poem that I first posted [ here ]back in Jan. 2008. I'm reposting it now with just a few minor edits (American vs. British spellings, a few typos). If I were to write it today, I'd split it into four or five seperate works. Anyhow, until then, here it is again, this time not flock'd.
Turn on a dime,
you actions
speak so loudly that
I don't hear you say "I still love you,"
"but, my life is different now,
and you're not appreciated like you
were before," is what I hear,
instead.
You turn on a dime,
but I drift like
an oil tanker
Inevitable spill near Trinidad.
You turn on a dime,
leave me adrift,
but it takes me so long
to achieve meta-noia.
My Repentance is deep,
My Repentance is not from sin,
My Repentance is from
mediocrity.
My metanoia changes me within,
My Metanoia changes me
with-out
Y Oh U.
Why, Oh Why
Are You So Fast?
Could it be that you Turning
Could not really last?
I want to peer deeper,
full of curiosity,
but the cat in me draws back,
and regardless, metanoia is my counter-attack!
So days become weeks,
weeks roll into months,
years later, I still miss...
not you, but the hope that you gave me.
Until I find,
Decide, Embrace,
That All I Need is already
With-in Me. Without you.
Ir-Respect-ive of You,
My metanoia is my path,
I must turn away
from the wide flow towards destruction.
So whether you are living,
or lying in the gutter somewhere;
I could not care
less than I do, ideally, now:
My way forwards too me
another life to find;
and in this game,
1-UPs are rare!
So I hope you see me some day,
and can't help but stare...
at the man you left for dead,
and called a child...
Since you became
Wood for the Fyre
Which Yeshua set ablaze,
and I pour my wrath now upon it:
Generations of imbalance
corrected in an instant:
My people stay quiet,
but by my metanoia-ic actions...
I
Say
Restore;
I will build and inhabit,
I will receive
before I even ask,
This New Way is really
a rediscover of ancient wisdoms,
The way I live
is enlightened by
the words I deciphered,
as I disregards the restrictions...
Disregarded the Dark Sayings
of the Wise Old Men,
Disregarded the Temptations
of the Hepatitis Hoes,
Disregarded the swiftness
of your super-ficial actions,
and focused on my health
until I could stay awake.
Letting you Move Away
was my Great Triumph,
Not A Mistake.
So Upon my Metanoia,
I Build,
And Inhabit:
Anew,
A New
Heart
-Full,
Home.
(Slightly Edited Revison)
This is a fairly long dhrgen / poem that I first posted [ here ]back in Jan. 2008. I'm reposting it now with just a few minor edits (American vs. British spellings, a few typos). If I were to write it today, I'd split it into four or five seperate works. Anyhow, until then, here it is again, this time not flock'd.
Turn on a dime,
you actions
speak so loudly that
I don't hear you say "I still love you,"
"but, my life is different now,
and you're not appreciated like you
were before," is what I hear,
instead.
You turn on a dime,
but I drift like
an oil tanker
Inevitable spill near Trinidad.
You turn on a dime,
leave me adrift,
but it takes me so long
to achieve meta-noia.
My Repentance is deep,
My Repentance is not from sin,
My Repentance is from
mediocrity.
My metanoia changes me within,
My Metanoia changes me
with-out
Y Oh U.
Why, Oh Why
Are You So Fast?
Could it be that you Turning
Could not really last?
I want to peer deeper,
full of curiosity,
but the cat in me draws back,
and regardless, metanoia is my counter-attack!
So days become weeks,
weeks roll into months,
years later, I still miss...
not you, but the hope that you gave me.
Until I find,
Decide, Embrace,
That All I Need is already
With-in Me. Without you.
Ir-Respect-ive of You,
My metanoia is my path,
I must turn away
from the wide flow towards destruction.
So whether you are living,
or lying in the gutter somewhere;
I could not care
less than I do, ideally, now:
My way forwards too me
another life to find;
and in this game,
1-UPs are rare!
So I hope you see me some day,
and can't help but stare...
at the man you left for dead,
and called a child...
Since you became
Wood for the Fyre
Which Yeshua set ablaze,
and I pour my wrath now upon it:
Generations of imbalance
corrected in an instant:
My people stay quiet,
but by my metanoia-ic actions...
I
Say
Restore;
I will build and inhabit,
I will receive
before I even ask,
This New Way is really
a rediscover of ancient wisdoms,
The way I live
is enlightened by
the words I deciphered,
as I disregards the restrictions...
Disregarded the Dark Sayings
of the Wise Old Men,
Disregarded the Temptations
of the Hepatitis Hoes,
Disregarded the swiftness
of your super-ficial actions,
and focused on my health
until I could stay awake.
Letting you Move Away
was my Great Triumph,
Not A Mistake.
So Upon my Metanoia,
I Build,
And Inhabit:
Anew,
A New
Heart
-Full,
Home.