Pre-Life Crisis

Pre-Life Crisis

Welcome class, please sit, get a pencil and fresh sheet of paper and plan out your life.
To succeed you need to find out how to sit into the boxes we have constructed.

Teacher, what is the purpose to life if just for me? If just for the boxes?

Good question, good thinking but don't try to merge philosophy with life
To succeed you need to find tolerance, be passionate, but be yet passive.

Teacher, why do we do so much until we die? Is it for memory only?

Good question, and good thinking but please don't buck the system
To succeed you need to do more and more, get credit, certificate, accomplishments.

Teacher, I don't understand why it is those who give away their lives in service that seem so happy, seem to have purpose.

It is not a question of purpose or destany, it is more a question of what you believe. Purpose comes from in yourself, you create your destinany.

What about the bible?

It is a good book of concepts but no more... It has lost most of its meaning in the translation.

Teacher I see no controdiction in it, it lines up with history, it is the only philosophy that lasts outside of meaningless, anthropology points us towards its truth.

They are only good concepts! Be a good student and respect what I say! That is what the bible says, "respect your elders."

Teacher, Jesus served God rather than man. Peter and Paul both both asked the elders the question of whether it is right to serve man over God? What do you say.

I am to I Am

I am to I Am

I am a son
loved by mother
loved by father

I am a brother
loved by sister
loved by brother

I have been a singer
singing songs from nursery rhymes
to songs of the times
played on heart strings pulled taut.

I have been a student
mentored, discipled, disciplined
learning the faith, logic, tact

I am leaving
loved by father
loved by mother

I am making it my own
and giving it away
taking singer and student
growing into I Was
because of I Am

I am a son

Ode to Life

Ode to Life
Monday Tuesday WednesFriday
Sat and Sun I come undone

We go on breaks and stay up way to late,
then thrown back into the motions, while my emotions
find new fuel for there longing to be free from this pattern.
two months two days, I gra du ate.
May 1, the fateful day we sign our lives away.
Or we may continue to flounder in some free flow pattern.
Make some money, hunt for a honey
O the terrible rhythm and rhyme
can our lives mine out meaning
in the midst of this menial.

Monday Tuesday wednesfriday
O blast! Here comes Thursday seekin revenge
despite our best efforts
yesterdays activities remain distant memories crowded out by
day to day to day to day.
One to two to the three to four
please sir, can I have some more?
More what?
Life! If I might have morsel to keep for the rainy day.

Bailout, word of the year but we get no attention
Could you spare 2.4 million for a small intervention?
When does the political game reach this practical
beyond just some distant fame or just someone to blame.

Do you ever feel stuck like in some lame video game
jumping through hoops, level to level,
livin in a world of no emotion.
I shot you for bonus points.
Stole your gun and your girl.
just to feel good. It doesn't last
but at least I have some fleeting romance of adventure.

I walk through the hall ways and it seems that we have so wrapped ourselves in this false reality of worth and a warped sense of purpose that we live from bell to bell, check box to check box. The only excitement is when he broke up with her and she hung out with him and so and so said her brothers- friends-grandmas-dog died so I am depressed. Have some sympathy

Stop, drop, think, search and you will find there is more than
Monday, Tuesday, WednesFriday.

Father What Now?

The road is gone now
Direction is blurred
We pray we cry out

Father what now?

These songs I sing seem
Just to add to the noise
Adding one more to this pile of questions
My reflection of the holy one grows so dime

Father what now?

My family father mother sisters and brother
Under pressure from a car crash
And the shattered glass
Of broken life surrounds me

Father what now?

I spent the night in the ICU
Sister in the bed with a bashed in head
Tossing and turning
At least she’s still breathing

Father what now?

Your grace is enough for me
Your grace has to be enough
Your grace is enough for me
Your grace has to be enough








Ballad by J. Wolfe on 3/24/09
G D Em C through the verses
Em to C with build through last two stanzas

Freedom in half an hour

Freedom Comes in Half an Hour

Learning
socialized funds
institutionalized
creativity, diluted
learning