Xanga Post Sunday May 28, 2006

Kudos to the Blue Team for getting things going.  Off to Shocco tomorrow and Destin on Tuesday for SL @ the Beach.

It's weird to have your life revolve around youth events.

I'm tired.

Here's a Spoke Word thing I wrote for camp this year.  I'm still trying to decide whether or not I'm going to compete in the Southern Fried Poetry Slam in a week and a half.

Enjoy.  Or don't.  Whatever.

Woman of No Distinction

I’m a woman of no distinction
Of little importance
A woman with no reputation
Save that which is bad
You whisper as I pass by
And cast judgmental glances
Though you don’t take the time to really look at me
Or even get to know me

For to be known is to be loved
And to be loved is to be known

Otherwise, what’s the point in doing either of them
In the first place

I want to be known
I want someone to look at my face
And not just see two eyes
A nose, a mouth and two ears
But to see all that I am and could be
To see my joys, loves, and fears
But that’s too much to hope for
To wish for or to pray for
So, I don’t
Not anymore

Now I keep to myself
By that I mean the pain
That keeps me in my own private jail
The pain that’s brought me here
At midday to this well

To ask for a drink is no big request
But to ask it of me
A woman unclean, ashamed, used and abused
An outcast, a failure, a disappointment
A Sinner
No drink passing from these hands
To your lips could ever be refreshing
Only condemning
As I’m sure you condemn me now

But

You

Don’t

You’re a man of no distinction
Though of the utmost importance
A man with little reputation
At least so far
You whisper and tell me to my face
What all those glances have been about
And you take the time to really look at me
But don’t need to get to know me

For to be known is to be loved
And to be loved is to be known

And you know me
You actually know me
All of me
And everything about me
Every thought inside and hair on top of my head
Every hurt stored up, every hope, every dread
My past and my future, all I am and could be
You tell me everything, You tell me about me
And that which spoken by another
Would mean hate and condemnation
Coming from you brings love
Grace, mercy, hope and salvation
I’ve heard of one to come
Who would save a wretch like me
And here in my presence you say
“I am he”

To be known is to be loved
And to be loved is to be known

And I just met you
But I love you
I don’t know you
But I want to get to

Let me run back to town
Because this is way too much for just me
There are others, sisters and brothers
Lovers and haters
The good and the bad
Sinners and Saints
Who should hear what you’ve told me
Who should see what you’ve shown me
Who should taste what you gave me
Who should feel how you forgave me

For to be known is to be loved
And to be loved is to be known

And they all need this too
We all do
Need it for our own

xangaChris Kinsley