I spent all the time in the world
Washing your blood off of my hands
I’ve cleaned up all of your mess
I’ve encountered no rest
Watching the world spin to nothing
Now I crawl out
From under my rock
Clinging to hope everlasting
While I sing the songs
Of the unlovely boy
And you are still there dying
God of heaven and of my soul
Why oh why did I let you go
I spent all the money I had
Washing the wounds of the land
I destroyed all my best
To encounter your caress
Watching my life spin to nothing
Copyright 2004 by pauly hart
Pain and joy in a rusty blender
The choices we must make from day to day are astonishing. So many things to do, and so little time. Surprisingly, there seems to be a rising number of simple little "things" that we can do in each day. So many activities steal my heart today that it seems there is little time left over for people. Seemingly, the times when I choose the right thing to do, the wrong thing would have been easier and would have saved more time. But I know that I must not choose the wrong way, for in that way leads death. Doesn't the old proverb ring true that "the grass is always greener on the other side"? Well, that all depends on where you are looking. If you are always looking at what could have been, you will feel discontentment with where you are at right now. Why is it that we persist in looking "over there" when we could live in the here and now, if we choose. But why aren't we satisfied? Why doesn't the quest end?
I will tell you the reasons that I have found to be true. I feel that our primary dissatisfaction comes from our unhappiness in God. The reason that we don't ever "feel like it", is because we are not looking to the One who gave us the ability to feel to begin with. The only way to experience living peace is to live in peace. To live inside of him, and his perfect will. That is where we will find our life-long security. In him is where we will find our peace. In Him is where the meaning of life is. In Him is life and that life is the light of all men. In Him we can throw all of our pains away and find true joy. For He can turn our shallow days into a deepening river of ardent truthfulness. Let us not live our lives as the world does theirs, but let us live our lives as Christ lived his. The John 17 way. For what is life but a long string of connected experiences that lead towards a common purpose.
Let's face it. The only thing that you have to do is die. You don't have to accept life. Life would be short and hard, but you really don't want to just give up do you? No, generally people want what is (or what they think is) best for them. The only thing that I find confusing is why people don't accept and fear God. What will it take to convince these cold-hearted critics (a better name might be truth-obliterators). I figure they are too involved with their own sofa logic philosophies, that they wouldn't give Jesus the time of day. Oh, why is the world so full of people who make stupid choices? I know that, in my own life, I find that I must choose Gods way instead of my way. I've only been here around 25 years or so, and He's been here for a Trillion or two. So I look to Him for my important choices. I pray that as I live my life, more and more, that I can choose the one who first chose me.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
I will tell you the reasons that I have found to be true. I feel that our primary dissatisfaction comes from our unhappiness in God. The reason that we don't ever "feel like it", is because we are not looking to the One who gave us the ability to feel to begin with. The only way to experience living peace is to live in peace. To live inside of him, and his perfect will. That is where we will find our life-long security. In him is where we will find our peace. In Him is where the meaning of life is. In Him is life and that life is the light of all men. In Him we can throw all of our pains away and find true joy. For He can turn our shallow days into a deepening river of ardent truthfulness. Let us not live our lives as the world does theirs, but let us live our lives as Christ lived his. The John 17 way. For what is life but a long string of connected experiences that lead towards a common purpose.
Let's face it. The only thing that you have to do is die. You don't have to accept life. Life would be short and hard, but you really don't want to just give up do you? No, generally people want what is (or what they think is) best for them. The only thing that I find confusing is why people don't accept and fear God. What will it take to convince these cold-hearted critics (a better name might be truth-obliterators). I figure they are too involved with their own sofa logic philosophies, that they wouldn't give Jesus the time of day. Oh, why is the world so full of people who make stupid choices? I know that, in my own life, I find that I must choose Gods way instead of my way. I've only been here around 25 years or so, and He's been here for a Trillion or two. So I look to Him for my important choices. I pray that as I live my life, more and more, that I can choose the one who first chose me.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
a thingy of waiting
Patience is a thing unsettled. It lurks within the tiredness of your soul and blossoms at times unheeded. It is formulated within ones inept ability to deal with the present, and springs out unawares in future circumstances that deem themselves importantly similar. It is the least sought after of all the virtues seeing that it is borne in hardship and distress. For patience is not only a virtue, but a work. A fruit that comes into season only once in a great while. the biblical term for it was "long-suffering"... and we can easily see why. You must suffer to let patience let her work her perfect work. Perhaps it is never perfected. or perhaps no one really knows because it has never been perfected. perhaps no one has ever took the time to fully explore it. perhaps this is a never perfected work. It takes time, and it take unquenchable amounts of patience. Persistence, Tenacity. Long Suffering. All synonyms with pain. Pain and joy are borne hand in hand both from mother patience. Patience is bought with the price of hardship. The joy of tribulation is small and is only seen as a glimmer on each mans horizon. Let patience grow. Then your horizon will draw nearer. Thanks to patience.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Pauly the Sinner Gets Forgiven.
Like it or not, I shall be remembered as a man after the things of God. That may bug some. This may discourage others into oblivion. Others who may have known me or met me may have felt something different. All I can say is that there was always something in the back of my mind, wanting to help others, and to get them farther along in their life than they were at that point. I have made a lot of stupid mistakes, and never knew how to make friends well and keep them happy, and ended up really hurting most of them... but they will survive. I have lied and cheated and done many a devious thing to my fellow man... but I know that God has forgiven a poor wretch such as myself. God has sent his smiling Son into my life and set me free from the wracking prison of despondency. And He is the only reason that I can give any good testimony whatsoever. Jesus saved me... and that's that. So on with life! Let the courage be in the battle and let me hold nothing back from living this life on and into the fullest of it's extent. I am a man of God, and He loves me. No matter what anyone remembers.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
?
Thoughts of a related time and place have enveloped my journey here. I have fallen prey to the undisciplined practice of living in the "what if" syndrome. I see my days march along and wonder what consequences would befall me if i had done this or done that. i realize that this way of thinking is a corrupt way, and to be more precise... it is an unhealthy view on the universe in general. Shouldn't i be more concerned with the here and the now... but there i go again. i keep doing this to myself. the now is what i live in. not the past, or any alternate reality in this present, or even in the impending future. i plan and schedule, but it is the now that i function within. so i make plans to not make plans. striving for a future where my present consists of whole-hearted plans of the now. the now. the here.
The beginning of my life.
Copyright 2000 by pauly
The beginning of my life.
Copyright 2000 by pauly
Made
God made all men
and we are all created beings
we are given brains and hands
we are given purity
we are given much
too much i feel
for we take Gods masterpiece
and desecrate it with lies
lies of corruptness
lies of disembowelment
lies of extrusion
God made man
in His image and likeness
He created us
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
and we are all created beings
we are given brains and hands
we are given purity
we are given much
too much i feel
for we take Gods masterpiece
and desecrate it with lies
lies of corruptness
lies of disembowelment
lies of extrusion
God made man
in His image and likeness
He created us
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Triumphal
The word that was spoken
so long ago
from the mouth
of the almighty
still dwells
in the hearts of men.
BUT WE MUST LISTEN!
LISTEN TO THE HEARTBEAT OF GOD!
LISTEN TO THE CRYING OF THE LOST!
WE MUST LISTEN OR DIE IN OUR LIES!
For if we pretend
and ignore
those worlds
of sick and hurting
then we call Christ
to no effect
and that He died
once and for all
we cause Him
to die all over again
LISTEN TO THE HEARTBEAT OF GOD!
LISTEN TO THE CRYING OF THE LOST!
LISTEN TO THE SOULS OF MEN!
LISTEN TO THEM CRY!
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
so long ago
from the mouth
of the almighty
still dwells
in the hearts of men.
BUT WE MUST LISTEN!
LISTEN TO THE HEARTBEAT OF GOD!
LISTEN TO THE CRYING OF THE LOST!
WE MUST LISTEN OR DIE IN OUR LIES!
For if we pretend
and ignore
those worlds
of sick and hurting
then we call Christ
to no effect
and that He died
once and for all
we cause Him
to die all over again
LISTEN TO THE HEARTBEAT OF GOD!
LISTEN TO THE CRYING OF THE LOST!
LISTEN TO THE SOULS OF MEN!
LISTEN TO THEM CRY!
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Faces that only we can save
As the mere existence of Christianity wraps itself around the fragile shell of our cultural Jesus (who only wears a suit) there are tens of thousands who starve, who bleed, who sweat and plead for a half a cup of goats milk.
For the millions of dollars spent on cat food, for the thousands of tons of food wasted each year... there are millions of lives drowned and wasted.
All of the bloated bellied children might as well have never been born, if they will live the life that they are destined to live if we don't do something about it.
We will have to reckon with our sins on judgment day. I, for one, will use my life to give to others. I cannot sit by and watch all of this just happen.
They are my brothers. My sisters. My mothers and my fathers. And they bleed the same red blood.
I pray with my help they will bleed no longer.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
For the millions of dollars spent on cat food, for the thousands of tons of food wasted each year... there are millions of lives drowned and wasted.
All of the bloated bellied children might as well have never been born, if they will live the life that they are destined to live if we don't do something about it.
We will have to reckon with our sins on judgment day. I, for one, will use my life to give to others. I cannot sit by and watch all of this just happen.
They are my brothers. My sisters. My mothers and my fathers. And they bleed the same red blood.
I pray with my help they will bleed no longer.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
unique travels
Say goodbye, she had told me. I always hated that. Saying goodbye I mean. I had always liked her. She had ways that brought out the very best in me. I believe that it was fate that had put us together. Or, perhaps it was God. I have loved her since the first moment that we met so many years ago. Loved her enough to marry her. And now it was over. Now it was all over. It was yesterday.
It was yesterday, like so many years ago. I had been at the church late working on some curriculum for the sunday school classes. Some pretty good stuff actually. Yawning, I glanced at my watch. Near quitting time already. I was tired and it could wait until morning. I figured I should get home a little early to see how Heather was doing. Today was grocery day, and she had taken the van so that she could have more room to load in whatever she bought. More room. More money spent. She never did anything halfway. Oh well, that's one of the reasons that I liked her so much. She had class.
Traffic was light and I arrived home in around ten minutes. There was no car outside, but that wasn't anything new. She was probably at Glendas anyway. I went to get a snack. Strange. No carrots. She hadn't even been home from the grocery store. Something was wrong.
The phone rang.
"Hello?" I said.
"Mr. Hart?" The voice was distant.
"What happened?" I asked before he could tell me.
"Uh, well, Do you have a wife? A Mrs. Heather Hart?"
"Tell me what happened." I repeated, "Now."
"It was in the Supermarket... She's had a stroke."
I paused.
"Mr. Hart?"
"Where are you?" I said.
"At Memorial Hospital Mr. Hart, She's..."
"I'll be right there."
I was there in seven minutes.
She had told me to say goodbye. I always hated that.
Saying goodbye.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
It was yesterday, like so many years ago. I had been at the church late working on some curriculum for the sunday school classes. Some pretty good stuff actually. Yawning, I glanced at my watch. Near quitting time already. I was tired and it could wait until morning. I figured I should get home a little early to see how Heather was doing. Today was grocery day, and she had taken the van so that she could have more room to load in whatever she bought. More room. More money spent. She never did anything halfway. Oh well, that's one of the reasons that I liked her so much. She had class.
Traffic was light and I arrived home in around ten minutes. There was no car outside, but that wasn't anything new. She was probably at Glendas anyway. I went to get a snack. Strange. No carrots. She hadn't even been home from the grocery store. Something was wrong.
The phone rang.
"Hello?" I said.
"Mr. Hart?" The voice was distant.
"What happened?" I asked before he could tell me.
"Uh, well, Do you have a wife? A Mrs. Heather Hart?"
"Tell me what happened." I repeated, "Now."
"It was in the Supermarket... She's had a stroke."
I paused.
"Mr. Hart?"
"Where are you?" I said.
"At Memorial Hospital Mr. Hart, She's..."
"I'll be right there."
I was there in seven minutes.
She had told me to say goodbye. I always hated that.
Saying goodbye.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
over the coffee...
i went to a local coffee house the other day and ordered one of my favorite drinks, and a drink that had been suggested that i get at this certain spot. mocha. as i waited there with my friend, i remember thinking that it would taste really good and that it would soothe my battered nerves, but when i received my mocha it looked good, but tasted awful. the fluffy white cream on the surface tasted like shaving cream, and the warm brown liquid inside was nothing but muddy water. as i deliberately finished it off, i can remember telling my friend that i was thoroughly disappointed and dissatisfied with the entire experience. not only had my mocha been disgusting, but the price that i paid for it was astronomically high.
now, as i look back at that event i realize that there could have been many factors leading to the experience that left me so dumbfounded and gasping for explanation. the coffee itself could have been rancid, the cup dirty, the preparation fouled, or the ingredients wrong. but i think that the #1 reason that the mocha tasted the way it did to me... was because of me. my friend had a wonderful time, and i didn't. my day had been ruined by the one thing that i was expecting to lift my day up. perhaps it was the fact that i was expecting this to be the answer to my solutions that my day was ruined. i could have gotten any number of things off of the menu, but i chose the most ideal, and perfectionistic to take away my problems. why do i seem to think that something could soothe my battered nerves, what gives me the right to expect so much out of a bean beverage anyway? don't i know that whatever it offers me won't last, and that everything that i receive from it will be of little value, since it is not really doing anything for me, but rather, i am taking from it.
sometimes, we as humans, pretend to be hunky-dory on the outside; while on the inside we are withering away like a diseased dandelions. and while we look towards other people, things, and idealism's to keep us satisfied, we really should be looking for the true cure for our disease, not just topical ointments for our symptoms. if we continue to look for others and other things as the reason to stay alive and as them for the purpose in our life, then we will end up just like that mocha that i had. useless, and tasteless. you see, that mocha was probably a quality product, but because it wasn't perfect... then it was all wrong and no thing or no one is perfect except for God.
God shows us in the Garden of Eden how to behave and live. He shows us that the perfect way to be is forever with Him. letting Him see us for who we really are, really is the only true way to have an honest relationship with Him. perfectionism is one thing. but God is quite another. For God doesn't have to be perfect, He is perfect by nature. And He is the only one who can cleanse us from the yuckiness of being human. unlike the false sense of security one gets with a trivial comfort, God never loses His hold on His children. it is God, and God alone that is the one to wash us and renew us and it is only He who can truly make us feel worthwhile, and soothe our battered nerves.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
now, as i look back at that event i realize that there could have been many factors leading to the experience that left me so dumbfounded and gasping for explanation. the coffee itself could have been rancid, the cup dirty, the preparation fouled, or the ingredients wrong. but i think that the #1 reason that the mocha tasted the way it did to me... was because of me. my friend had a wonderful time, and i didn't. my day had been ruined by the one thing that i was expecting to lift my day up. perhaps it was the fact that i was expecting this to be the answer to my solutions that my day was ruined. i could have gotten any number of things off of the menu, but i chose the most ideal, and perfectionistic to take away my problems. why do i seem to think that something could soothe my battered nerves, what gives me the right to expect so much out of a bean beverage anyway? don't i know that whatever it offers me won't last, and that everything that i receive from it will be of little value, since it is not really doing anything for me, but rather, i am taking from it.
sometimes, we as humans, pretend to be hunky-dory on the outside; while on the inside we are withering away like a diseased dandelions. and while we look towards other people, things, and idealism's to keep us satisfied, we really should be looking for the true cure for our disease, not just topical ointments for our symptoms. if we continue to look for others and other things as the reason to stay alive and as them for the purpose in our life, then we will end up just like that mocha that i had. useless, and tasteless. you see, that mocha was probably a quality product, but because it wasn't perfect... then it was all wrong and no thing or no one is perfect except for God.
God shows us in the Garden of Eden how to behave and live. He shows us that the perfect way to be is forever with Him. letting Him see us for who we really are, really is the only true way to have an honest relationship with Him. perfectionism is one thing. but God is quite another. For God doesn't have to be perfect, He is perfect by nature. And He is the only one who can cleanse us from the yuckiness of being human. unlike the false sense of security one gets with a trivial comfort, God never loses His hold on His children. it is God, and God alone that is the one to wash us and renew us and it is only He who can truly make us feel worthwhile, and soothe our battered nerves.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
untitled and unsure
a word dried on my lips when she informed me that all i had to do was to ask the gut feeling my heart shouted was to accept what i had already seen i have denied myself any emotion since i have lost so much in these last years and writing has been the only emotional release that i have seen but she has asked me to be with her and to be her friend and lover for i have waited for such a long time and i really am more scared than i let on but in the asking i have allowed my heart to take one giant leap of faith and that gut feeling that my heart shouted was not so far off for if love is more than a physical attachment to the things we desire if love is truly a decision that we make from day to day then i will surrender i will see to it that i no longer deny my body and my heart and my spirit i will not let my inhibitions hold me back from the plan God has for me she asked me and i want this for myself because it has been a long time then the words that had glued themselves to the roof of my mouth solidified and i said yes to her and accepted all that she had to offer me and i am not sorry or will i ever be sorry for the things that i have led myself into because life is too short to feel regret and i will never let love slip by again
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
The start of it all
The start of it all
I guess I was in Russia one morning when I started writing. I was on my first over seas missions trip in St. Petersburg, Russia. We had four or five dramas we were scheduled to do that day, and I was not ready for anything, except for breakfast. I was tired, angry, hungry, and in a foul mood. So I found a place to myself, grabbed a pen and started writing...
Ever since that day, I have written. Little did I realize that my poems were any good. I thought my over active imagination had gone too far. I would write on any scraps of paper that I could get hold of. I did not label or date anything. It really was a reckless quest. But God knew what He was doing. He was in total control. It was at that time that I met Jennifer. She was also in Russia, and she encouraged me to write down my feelings, and ideas on paper, for she wrote also. And, though we only got to know each other for a short time, we became fast friends. Well, we started writing and exchanging poems, and through her, God showed me that this was something that I needed to use. This was something that, if not shared, would waste away in me. The gift was alive.
You see, all my life I've been hyper active, both physically and mentally. Though it was a great help in my art classes, it usually got me into a lot of trouble. Until I recognized them as gifts, many things in my life I had counted as a curse that God had put upon me to punish me. I was wrong, they were a part of me. God had put them there for a reason and I needed to find out why. Well, you are reading one of the gifts that God has given me. The ability to take a thought, wrestle it down, strap it up, and throw it on to a slab of paper. The ability to write.
Now I use the gift. I nurse the small spark into a flame, and send it licking the sides of mediocrity, until it turns into a raging, smoldering, blaze of glory. I've met many people, and I've told many them that they need to write a book. Everyone has a story. A testimony. Something that they have done that others can look at and admire. Not everyone can to live among lepers, and disease infested people everyday. So go look at Mother Theresa. Not everyone can carry a twelve-foot cross around the world. So go look at Arthur Blessit. Not everyone can preach to over half a million people at once. So go look at Billy Graham. Not everyone has the ability to do the things that you do. Now go look at yourself. Why don't you share what God has done for you? I did and I will.
I hope that you enjoyed my little essay. I believe that God has given me this gift to do something positive. And I know that it will change lives. At least it had better. Otherwise, I'd better find something else to do with my free time. But, let no one despise me for these writings. I am using something God gave me, and in doing so, I am an owner of a small piece of Heaven. So, as you read, please try and see the world through my eyes. For I do not see the average world that others see. I see a world through the eyes of Jesus. A world of great pain, but also one of great joy in Jesus Christ.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
I guess I was in Russia one morning when I started writing. I was on my first over seas missions trip in St. Petersburg, Russia. We had four or five dramas we were scheduled to do that day, and I was not ready for anything, except for breakfast. I was tired, angry, hungry, and in a foul mood. So I found a place to myself, grabbed a pen and started writing...
Ever since that day, I have written. Little did I realize that my poems were any good. I thought my over active imagination had gone too far. I would write on any scraps of paper that I could get hold of. I did not label or date anything. It really was a reckless quest. But God knew what He was doing. He was in total control. It was at that time that I met Jennifer. She was also in Russia, and she encouraged me to write down my feelings, and ideas on paper, for she wrote also. And, though we only got to know each other for a short time, we became fast friends. Well, we started writing and exchanging poems, and through her, God showed me that this was something that I needed to use. This was something that, if not shared, would waste away in me. The gift was alive.
You see, all my life I've been hyper active, both physically and mentally. Though it was a great help in my art classes, it usually got me into a lot of trouble. Until I recognized them as gifts, many things in my life I had counted as a curse that God had put upon me to punish me. I was wrong, they were a part of me. God had put them there for a reason and I needed to find out why. Well, you are reading one of the gifts that God has given me. The ability to take a thought, wrestle it down, strap it up, and throw it on to a slab of paper. The ability to write.
Now I use the gift. I nurse the small spark into a flame, and send it licking the sides of mediocrity, until it turns into a raging, smoldering, blaze of glory. I've met many people, and I've told many them that they need to write a book. Everyone has a story. A testimony. Something that they have done that others can look at and admire. Not everyone can to live among lepers, and disease infested people everyday. So go look at Mother Theresa. Not everyone can carry a twelve-foot cross around the world. So go look at Arthur Blessit. Not everyone can preach to over half a million people at once. So go look at Billy Graham. Not everyone has the ability to do the things that you do. Now go look at yourself. Why don't you share what God has done for you? I did and I will.
I hope that you enjoyed my little essay. I believe that God has given me this gift to do something positive. And I know that it will change lives. At least it had better. Otherwise, I'd better find something else to do with my free time. But, let no one despise me for these writings. I am using something God gave me, and in doing so, I am an owner of a small piece of Heaven. So, as you read, please try and see the world through my eyes. For I do not see the average world that others see. I see a world through the eyes of Jesus. A world of great pain, but also one of great joy in Jesus Christ.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
hmmm...
{inspired by the stupidities of democracy}
how much clint
could a bill clint clint
if a bill clint
could clint ton?
hmmm...
how much gore
could a tipper gore gore
if a tipper gore
could tip gore?
hmmm...
how many cents
could a govern ment mint
if a govern ment
could mint sense?
"dangifiknow, ask anadarko"
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
how much clint
could a bill clint clint
if a bill clint
could clint ton?
hmmm...
how much gore
could a tipper gore gore
if a tipper gore
could tip gore?
hmmm...
how many cents
could a govern ment mint
if a govern ment
could mint sense?
"dangifiknow, ask anadarko"
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Toad Lord
"i am the king",
said he.
"i am he",
said he.
"that is imperishable,
that is immeasurable,
that is omnicient,
that is omnipotent,
that is immutable,
that is surrealistic,
that is unstoppable,
that is unmovable."
said he.
"i am he",
said he.
"i am the king",
said he.
"i am he",
said he,
"that is the lord"
and Jim leaned over to Melissa and said:
"Man, them frogs sure is loud tonight!"
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
said he.
"i am he",
said he.
"that is imperishable,
that is immeasurable,
that is omnicient,
that is omnipotent,
that is immutable,
that is surrealistic,
that is unstoppable,
that is unmovable."
said he.
"i am he",
said he.
"i am the king",
said he.
"i am he",
said he,
"that is the lord"
and Jim leaned over to Melissa and said:
"Man, them frogs sure is loud tonight!"
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWishbone
(scene opens)
loading up the car to go to the drive in...
(music starts)
wish bone
meet the wish bone
it's a bone right out of thanksgiving
from the super-food barn
it's a frozen good for $12.13
let's pull... the wishbone with all our might
to find out... who just may and who just might
when you've
got the wishbone
you'll have a wishbone pull-apart time
a greasy mess time
you'll have a stupid time!
(music)
fred gets thrown out by the saber-toothed cat
musical director gets fired for cueing up the wrong song
the end
>;^)__)
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
loading up the car to go to the drive in...
(music starts)
wish bone
meet the wish bone
it's a bone right out of thanksgiving
from the super-food barn
it's a frozen good for $12.13
let's pull... the wishbone with all our might
to find out... who just may and who just might
when you've
got the wishbone
you'll have a wishbone pull-apart time
a greasy mess time
you'll have a stupid time!
(music)
fred gets thrown out by the saber-toothed cat
musical director gets fired for cueing up the wrong song
the end
>;^)__)
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
dead
there was a mouse in my ear
it squeaked all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a cat...
there was a cat in my ear
it meowed all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a dog...
there was a dog in my ear
it barked all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a lion...
there was a lion in my ear
it roared all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a elephant...
there was a elephant in my ear
it stomped all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a mouse...
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
it squeaked all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a cat...
there was a cat in my ear
it meowed all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a dog...
there was a dog in my ear
it barked all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a lion...
there was a lion in my ear
it roared all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a elephant...
there was a elephant in my ear
it stomped all night long
and i couldn't sleep
so i killed it.
and now it's dead!
oh no, what am i to do?
i know... i'll get a mouse...
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
cassie chicago
she sat, we sat, i sat
on the train... wondering
why we were in iowa... laughing
at old mens pickup lines...
and she-males getting high...
at other stuff too lame
to mention here.
i thought, she thought, we thought
of everything that went wrong
with being born in the second week
of a stubborn october
thoughts of past, linking together
as one story to the next...
i guess no one ever knows
who you'll run into on a train
so cassie, here's the poem
i said i would write you
on that second week
in a stubborn september
it's a poem about us
and that wierd bed-headed guy
(well that really doesn't pertain)
um... where was i?
ah, yes! poetry is the poetry
of a train ride thru the corn
we cry hug and giggle...
and a friendship is born.
Copyright 2005 by pauly hart
on the train... wondering
why we were in iowa... laughing
at old mens pickup lines...
and she-males getting high...
at other stuff too lame
to mention here.
i thought, she thought, we thought
of everything that went wrong
with being born in the second week
of a stubborn october
thoughts of past, linking together
as one story to the next...
i guess no one ever knows
who you'll run into on a train
so cassie, here's the poem
i said i would write you
on that second week
in a stubborn september
it's a poem about us
and that wierd bed-headed guy
(well that really doesn't pertain)
um... where was i?
ah, yes! poetry is the poetry
of a train ride thru the corn
we cry hug and giggle...
and a friendship is born.
Copyright 2005 by pauly hart
spf90
at a coffeeshop
here
sipping a flavored beverage
yum
thinking that i will never
ever
be in her arms again
nibbling at her ear
making her scream
i want to see her
i want to be with her
oh well
if i never get her awake
i have had enough of her
in my dreams
here
sipping a flavored beverage
yum
thinking that i will never
ever
be in her arms again
nibbling at her ear
making her scream
i want to see her
i want to be with her
oh well
if i never get her awake
i have had enough of her
in my dreams
met
i met a girl
the other day
she smiled at me
as we ate pizza together
the other day
we stretched out
and flew across the lake
the other day
her mother died
like mine did before
the other day
on canadian soil
we cried before God
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
the other day
she smiled at me
as we ate pizza together
the other day
we stretched out
and flew across the lake
the other day
her mother died
like mine did before
the other day
on canadian soil
we cried before God
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
porch light
my sin is a bug
drawn unto the light
i am a moth
and i flutter away
i am in dark
and i knock away
banging my shins
as i stumble
Jesus is light
and i see his reflections
but to turn around
is the scariest still
my gain is bliss
all i forfeit is pain
God did His part
i turn and obey
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
drawn unto the light
i am a moth
and i flutter away
i am in dark
and i knock away
banging my shins
as i stumble
Jesus is light
and i see his reflections
but to turn around
is the scariest still
my gain is bliss
all i forfeit is pain
God did His part
i turn and obey
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
opened and needed
i need all the time in the world from a just and loving God.
i need all His silent forgiveness to help me through today.
i need every ounce of courage the angels use to worship Him.
i need so much more than i am capable of dealing out myself.
i need the spiritual lifting of the Man who was always my God.
i need the All in All. the Alpha and Omega. the Bright Morning Star.
i need Him, because life is nothing without His tender kiss.
i need Him, because without Him, life is not life.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
i need all His silent forgiveness to help me through today.
i need every ounce of courage the angels use to worship Him.
i need so much more than i am capable of dealing out myself.
i need the spiritual lifting of the Man who was always my God.
i need the All in All. the Alpha and Omega. the Bright Morning Star.
i need Him, because life is nothing without His tender kiss.
i need Him, because without Him, life is not life.
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
daydreaming of lint
here i sit upon this craggy cliff
i justify all my indiscrepancies
will i linger in this miff
or blame certain complexities
little do i realize that
angels linger near my heart
and despite my being bald and fat
Jesus is into that saving part
so linger do i no longer and
sit lazily down here in the sand
i get up and then dance away
my chains not iron... they were clay
i raffle off what is left
my stability is all bereft
i sit and ponder with friends
just how to go and make amends
euthanasia, abortion rights,
i tire of wondering what is right
why can't i live why can't i die,
i'm scared of both, but still i try
these things belong; these things i think...
they belong in the kitchen sink
they belong to me,
i think, i think.
i depend on strangers to make my food.
i depend on the poor to harvest my coffee.
i stand unique alone, un-meek.
i belong to the set apart elite.
but for some obtuse reason, it doesn't fit.
this doesn't fit, this thought life crime.
these thoughts i think...
are they still mine?
here i sit upon this craggy cliff
i justify all my indiscrepancies
little do i realize that
Jesus is into that saving part
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
i justify all my indiscrepancies
will i linger in this miff
or blame certain complexities
little do i realize that
angels linger near my heart
and despite my being bald and fat
Jesus is into that saving part
so linger do i no longer and
sit lazily down here in the sand
i get up and then dance away
my chains not iron... they were clay
i raffle off what is left
my stability is all bereft
i sit and ponder with friends
just how to go and make amends
euthanasia, abortion rights,
i tire of wondering what is right
why can't i live why can't i die,
i'm scared of both, but still i try
these things belong; these things i think...
they belong in the kitchen sink
they belong to me,
i think, i think.
i depend on strangers to make my food.
i depend on the poor to harvest my coffee.
i stand unique alone, un-meek.
i belong to the set apart elite.
but for some obtuse reason, it doesn't fit.
this doesn't fit, this thought life crime.
these thoughts i think...
are they still mine?
here i sit upon this craggy cliff
i justify all my indiscrepancies
little do i realize that
Jesus is into that saving part
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
La La La
Ayatollah has gone the way of the jackel
And the people pray to a setting soul
And wail in Farsi to revive their hearts anew
Whilst dreams die in my heart for 1989
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
And the people pray to a setting soul
And wail in Farsi to revive their hearts anew
Whilst dreams die in my heart for 1989
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Donde
I am in anguish
I am in pain
I lie awake now
My strength gone again
Where is my righteousness
Where is my gain
Why do I lose so
With nothing to gain
Why do I know this
And do not abstain
Why is my souls fear
in bursting with flames
I am an evil man
I am not the sane
Where is my healing
Why am I vain
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
I am in pain
I lie awake now
My strength gone again
Where is my righteousness
Where is my gain
Why do I lose so
With nothing to gain
Why do I know this
And do not abstain
Why is my souls fear
in bursting with flames
I am an evil man
I am not the sane
Where is my healing
Why am I vain
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Bus Station Chance Meeting Following With A Poem Of Longing And Loss
I'm walking in a circle
You're walking in one too
You can share my spiral
But I may never walk with you
The thoughts inside your head
Are hidden in your eyes
Why seek the truth
To answer it in lies
Life is but a station
That will take us different ways
Time absolute
When your nights are your days
Come 2 in the morning
You will leave, get on the bus
Does your circle separate the difference
Between you, me, and us?
Written for a stranger and a friend
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
You're walking in one too
You can share my spiral
But I may never walk with you
The thoughts inside your head
Are hidden in your eyes
Why seek the truth
To answer it in lies
Life is but a station
That will take us different ways
Time absolute
When your nights are your days
Come 2 in the morning
You will leave, get on the bus
Does your circle separate the difference
Between you, me, and us?
Written for a stranger and a friend
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
When?
Smoking is wrong
Smoking is unhealthy
Smoking is a sin
I am addicted
I must stop
I must reconcile myself
To clean air
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Smoking is unhealthy
Smoking is a sin
I am addicted
I must stop
I must reconcile myself
To clean air
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
NEVER
Never pet a burning dog
Never juggle rabid porcupines
Never toy with a polar bears emotions
Never give a stampeding elephant a pedicure
Never tickle a vomiting octopus
Never brush the teeth of a hungry shark
Never sleep next to a grumpy cobra
Never kick a grizzly bear in the eye
Never pee on a silverback gorilla
Never place a rabid squirrel down your pants
for the purposes of gambling
With thanks to the Rabid Oscillating Weasel
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Never juggle rabid porcupines
Never toy with a polar bears emotions
Never give a stampeding elephant a pedicure
Never tickle a vomiting octopus
Never brush the teeth of a hungry shark
Never sleep next to a grumpy cobra
Never kick a grizzly bear in the eye
Never pee on a silverback gorilla
Never place a rabid squirrel down your pants
for the purposes of gambling
With thanks to the Rabid Oscillating Weasel
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
Vast Unknown
I hate not knowing the future. Sometimes it just really drives me nuts that I can't just pull my own destiny out of thin air... As much as I try, life seems to be always the next step away. I cannot fully grasp it. Our futures hold so much for us that we don't see, It's amazing that we even get anywhere at all. We have to trust our Lord Jesus Christ to take us where we need to be. For me, the most painful things are often the daily things that get in my hair and seem to hang about nagging at me day in and day out. Then there are those times where things just come to that dramatic and climatic standstill... your eyes vision narrows to a blackened tunnel and your heartbeat comes into your ears thumpthumpthumping like a insane drum slowing.
I hate those moments.
Yet we each have them. Whether daily or just once, we have all felt that inescapable moment if only for a second of: "Oh God, what now?"
Herein lies my pain, the pain of loss and the pain of the unknown. Both are silent and both scream at us all.
Oh God, what now?
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
I hate those moments.
Yet we each have them. Whether daily or just once, we have all felt that inescapable moment if only for a second of: "Oh God, what now?"
Herein lies my pain, the pain of loss and the pain of the unknown. Both are silent and both scream at us all.
Oh God, what now?
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
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