Quiet.
Dark.
Alone.
It is dark, quiet and calm late at night. I looked at the stars in the early hours of the morning, after the world has been dreaming, and it is a quiet. I can hear my own breathing, my heartbeat, my heartbreak. Here alone, when no one is watching, I feel free to cry in silence. It is not that I am self conscious about crying in front of people, but there is power in silence. As a musician my life is filled, utterly overflowing with noise. Music, sounds, speaking, grumbling, laughter, loudness, machines humming, working, working, ever working. There is too much working and not enough existing.
Existence.
God spoke to Moses about his existence. When Moses asked his name, God replied with a simple, "I AM". I AM? What is that supposed to mean? Its boggling and confusing. But its simpler than most of us overly intellectual people would realize. God just laid it down by saying "It is good enough that I merely exist." God doesn't have to BE anything, he doesn't have to BE this label or that boundary or this small box you want to put him in to help understand him.
GOD CAN NOT BE UNDERSTOOD.
Maybe that's an offensive statement to theological types. Humans have spent their entire history writing books, debating, rewriting, philosophizing, intellectualizing...trying to push our wee little brains to the limits trying to understand and fit God into our world, when really we should fit OUR world into HIS. When I realized that I'd never understand God, and I just accepted the mystery of my creator, I finally understood. Understood myself, Understood my world, Understood my purpose.
I don't have any answers, and I'm O.K. with that. I'm the kind of guy that reads the book before the movie so that I know what's going to happen. But I've read God's Book, and I know what's going to happen, but that doesn't make the journey any easier. I have some of the darkest days behind me and more ahead of me. I have some of the brightest moments of hope to carry me through. I know who's going to be there with me to shoulder the burdens that life throws on me, and I'm O.K. that I don't really understand the guy that's helping out. I'll learn more as we go on the journey.
So silence is deafening.
Silence is someone crying out for help, screaming right in your face without saying a word. Its their downcast eyes that they hide lest someone see into their soul. Its the perfect mask and lie we live through because we don't want people not to like us because we aren't perfect. Its the trudging along, shouldering our ten ton weights on our own because we just couldn't STAND for someone else to help us. Its tears cried into pillows and shoulders and fists pounded into the ground and fist clenching, teeth grinding, sob wracking, HONESTY that makes us, creates us, molds, shapes and breaks us.
it is prayer.
It is broken hearted, chest on fire, knee burn, stomping, spitting, fist in the air, watery eyed, INSANITY that makes a man sacrifice his life for what? Money? Women? Power? Acceptance?
...God?
I am a worthless slab of flesh
A common husk and no more
Simple wood, a common log
To carry the fire of the Lord
If I should think myself the light
And try to light the world aflame
Cast me aside, a burnt match
A smudge upon your name
Please make me God, a simple stick
The lowest of the low
That I may be useful to you
The best your light to show
Live, Love, Verse.
J. Beatnik
Monday, September 24, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Groove
Harmony.
Family.
Groove.
Groove is the blood flow of every band. Every song. Every sound. Groove is a magical land where rhythms meet melodies, instruments meet perfection, and music meets souls. Groove is where the core of your being cries out your individuality, only to be harmonized with by others. This harmony is a soul speaking, heart pumping, deepest chasm of the spirit connection where mind, body, soul, and spirit collide.
Life Groove.
Some people have it all together. They're lives just "click", they have golden fingers and everything they touch turns into success. Their lives hit this Groove and the cylinders pump in full unison, the engine roars to life, and they soar into the skies, spreading their wings as eagles majestically.
Most of us are just Vultures.
We sneer at these people, mocking them, jealous of their success and thwarting them at every turn like a classic comic book villain, we plot their demise in secret, while putting on these pleasant faces like some sick puppet show. We just wait until they fly too close to the sun, and, like Icarus, plummet to the earth where we squeal with joy and peck at the brokenness with sharp claws and beaks.
Why can't we just let them fly?
Is it pride that leads us to lie, to make excuses for our own failures, blaming them on others? When did a man's word become worthless, and every thing of worth had to come with a legal notation? What if we saw the good in people, we looked at our failures, we cheered the success of others, and we lifted people instead of pushing them down? Maybe if we saw people as the hurting, lonely, sick, needy, crying, begging for someone to just smile at them, be real with them, sit and listen to them, encourage them...
Maybe the world could be a better place.
Live, Love, Verse,
J. Beatnik
Family.
Groove.
Groove is the blood flow of every band. Every song. Every sound. Groove is a magical land where rhythms meet melodies, instruments meet perfection, and music meets souls. Groove is where the core of your being cries out your individuality, only to be harmonized with by others. This harmony is a soul speaking, heart pumping, deepest chasm of the spirit connection where mind, body, soul, and spirit collide.
Life Groove.
Some people have it all together. They're lives just "click", they have golden fingers and everything they touch turns into success. Their lives hit this Groove and the cylinders pump in full unison, the engine roars to life, and they soar into the skies, spreading their wings as eagles majestically.
Most of us are just Vultures.
We sneer at these people, mocking them, jealous of their success and thwarting them at every turn like a classic comic book villain, we plot their demise in secret, while putting on these pleasant faces like some sick puppet show. We just wait until they fly too close to the sun, and, like Icarus, plummet to the earth where we squeal with joy and peck at the brokenness with sharp claws and beaks.
Why can't we just let them fly?
Is it pride that leads us to lie, to make excuses for our own failures, blaming them on others? When did a man's word become worthless, and every thing of worth had to come with a legal notation? What if we saw the good in people, we looked at our failures, we cheered the success of others, and we lifted people instead of pushing them down? Maybe if we saw people as the hurting, lonely, sick, needy, crying, begging for someone to just smile at them, be real with them, sit and listen to them, encourage them...
Maybe the world could be a better place.
Live, Love, Verse,
J. Beatnik
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Power of Verse
Language.
Communication.
Verse.
The power of words. To Heal. To Harm. Verse is the word we hang on the essential part of music. The counterpart is Chorus. Verse, the single voice of music. Chorus, the voice of the whole. I am a humble man, at least, I try to be. I don't attempt to think that my opinions or beliefs, or any thought I have would be Chorused by any other. Just Verse. Verse is the all important individuality that God has created each and every one of us with. Verse is our soul crying out, of each and every cell of our being, created by God, to attempt in the slightest to mirror his amazing creation with minuscule and finite minds and bodies.
Verse is the essential part of humanity that screams for individuality, screams out to be noticed, to be loved, to be admired, to be just...smiled at. That I am created by a perfect Creator who loves me is beyond my comprehension. It touches my soul in a way no music ever has. No other person's Verse ever has. It is a personal belief, one I can not help but share. Not that I am pushy or preachy or narrow minded. I have felt a resonance, a perfect octave, a drum beat, a "groove", a perfect square or root, a prime number that is infinitely divisible by my soul.
It is unexplainable.
I only hope that I may live my life in such a way that its a microscopic mirror of Him. That should be enough to change the world. Not in my power, but just the mere reflection of him gives enough light and fire to burn away any human to the core of the soul. When our, your, their Verse joins the Chorus of Him, only then can it bring beautiful music to the world.
Chorus.
Chorus is the whole. Chorus is what you throw back you head, hold out your arms and scream out. Every song. Any song. Chorus is what you know, its what you feel. Its what you sing endlessly when you are so obsessed with a song that your friends roll their eyes after the first 3 words. Chorus is our souls yearning for belonging, of being a part of something greater, of screaming out at the top of your lungs, of finding another person that so wonderfully and completely attaches to your Verse that you close your eyes, hold your heart, and cry. That feeling of love, infatuation, compassion, stomach flopping, heartache, YEARNING...that pales in comparison to reaching out and touching the CREATOR. THE orchestrator, THE composer, THE musician, THE author of Verse and Chorus, THE creator of Love and Life and Soul Thirst. That emptiness inside is created by Him. To be filled by Him.
Why call this blog Unfinished Verse? I don't know. Maybe its because as a musician, no verse is finished, no song is ever completely satisfying. Its just "Good Enough". As a musician, a poet, a writer, a teacher, a preacher, a disciple, a follower...I don't believe I could ever truly finish anything perfectly that will resonate in Man like the resonance of His Chorus.
So Unfinished Verse is a bit about my creations. My unfinished, imperfect songs, poems, writings...unfinished, imperfect life. That I will never have the perfect Verse for my life until he touches it and scrapes all of my imperfect additions off, and just makes those small pen strokes of a master musician editing a friend's song to make it just the most perfect sound to the ears.
So Live, Love, Verse.
J. Beatnik
Communication.
Verse.
The power of words. To Heal. To Harm. Verse is the word we hang on the essential part of music. The counterpart is Chorus. Verse, the single voice of music. Chorus, the voice of the whole. I am a humble man, at least, I try to be. I don't attempt to think that my opinions or beliefs, or any thought I have would be Chorused by any other. Just Verse. Verse is the all important individuality that God has created each and every one of us with. Verse is our soul crying out, of each and every cell of our being, created by God, to attempt in the slightest to mirror his amazing creation with minuscule and finite minds and bodies.
Verse is the essential part of humanity that screams for individuality, screams out to be noticed, to be loved, to be admired, to be just...smiled at. That I am created by a perfect Creator who loves me is beyond my comprehension. It touches my soul in a way no music ever has. No other person's Verse ever has. It is a personal belief, one I can not help but share. Not that I am pushy or preachy or narrow minded. I have felt a resonance, a perfect octave, a drum beat, a "groove", a perfect square or root, a prime number that is infinitely divisible by my soul.
It is unexplainable.
I only hope that I may live my life in such a way that its a microscopic mirror of Him. That should be enough to change the world. Not in my power, but just the mere reflection of him gives enough light and fire to burn away any human to the core of the soul. When our, your, their Verse joins the Chorus of Him, only then can it bring beautiful music to the world.
Chorus.
Chorus is the whole. Chorus is what you throw back you head, hold out your arms and scream out. Every song. Any song. Chorus is what you know, its what you feel. Its what you sing endlessly when you are so obsessed with a song that your friends roll their eyes after the first 3 words. Chorus is our souls yearning for belonging, of being a part of something greater, of screaming out at the top of your lungs, of finding another person that so wonderfully and completely attaches to your Verse that you close your eyes, hold your heart, and cry. That feeling of love, infatuation, compassion, stomach flopping, heartache, YEARNING...that pales in comparison to reaching out and touching the CREATOR. THE orchestrator, THE composer, THE musician, THE author of Verse and Chorus, THE creator of Love and Life and Soul Thirst. That emptiness inside is created by Him. To be filled by Him.
Why call this blog Unfinished Verse? I don't know. Maybe its because as a musician, no verse is finished, no song is ever completely satisfying. Its just "Good Enough". As a musician, a poet, a writer, a teacher, a preacher, a disciple, a follower...I don't believe I could ever truly finish anything perfectly that will resonate in Man like the resonance of His Chorus.
So Unfinished Verse is a bit about my creations. My unfinished, imperfect songs, poems, writings...unfinished, imperfect life. That I will never have the perfect Verse for my life until he touches it and scrapes all of my imperfect additions off, and just makes those small pen strokes of a master musician editing a friend's song to make it just the most perfect sound to the ears.
So Live, Love, Verse.
J. Beatnik
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