Abstract Love.

It is not love in the abstract that counts. Men have loved a cause as they have loved a woman. They have loved the brotherhood, the workers, the poor, the oppressed - but they have not loved [humanity]; they have not loved the least of these. They have not loved "personally." It is hard to love. It is the hardest thing in the world, naturally speaking. Have you ever read Tolstoy's Resurrection? He tells of political prisoners in a long prison train, enduring chains and persecution for the love of their brothers, ignoring those same brothers on the long trek to Siberia. It is never the brothers right next to us, but the brothers in the abstract that are easy to love.

- Dorothy Day
social activist and founder of the Catholic Worker movement

what i got.



i've been told i'm worthwhile yet still not enough,
and in endless nights of restless dreams
i think, and dream of mislead touch.
i flaunt this fear like the scars on my heart,
undecided in action, writhing in unspent words.
i don't know to smile at the beauty
or shrink from it's accompanied lust.
Like the flower stem stripped from it's petals,
we're devoid of identity for "loves me, loves me nots".
and in the end, i've begun again
rebirthed to the Earth from which i come.

To treat you right and maintain promises of well kept hearts
is the purpose of my existence in your life.
and still the unexplainable tensions of isoloation death
breeds fear and spite and manic strife within.
the dream is more than matching; its something you've defined.
Little knowing, self effacing interest oiled machine.

hearts and rules made for broken,
watch the pebbles trip.
i throw my soul into the wind
and pray for angel's grip.

the mountain top which i've seen, means more when i sit below.
hidden in the valley's of moments of haunting memories
which you ask me to live without?
How to give and take and care and slave
for unverified affection vowed,
could be the secret to your pacification
my gifts and soul and worth, raw exposure doubt.
You'll live in memories cherished as gifts
and all the "want you's" of moments past.
and no matter what is said or done
every rare gem of you stays in me 'til breath last.

7 Deadly Social Sins

Politics Without Principal
Wealth Without Work
Commerce Without Morality
Pleasure Without Conscience
Education Without Character
Science Without Humanity
Worship Without Sacrifice

-- Mahatma Gandhi

In A Child's Eye.



the sparkle in the eyes of a child has the remarkable ability to restore all hope in mankind. when the world seems angry and disconnected and uncaring, the passing glimpse of truth and beauty that comes from that innocence brings me back to the realization that all mankind was created in God's image, and that we, I, have just deviated from that plan. In a day where i couldn't have felt more lost, more pessimistic, right after i saw a drunk screaming at his wife, this amazing young hispanic girl seemed to flip the script and reverse my whole outlook on life. Thank you God for that creation, for that honesty, for the pure, the innocent. Thank you for creation, and beauty and peace and love. I can only now strive to live with that type of purity, to decalluce my heart, strip the layers of hurt, and hiding, scars of distrust and insecurity, so that in my eyes people will also find hope. Find a way to believe in humanity and in the world that i live in. Thank you for the people who teach me to love, to be honest, to be vulnerable. I am indebted.

Welcome to my blog, this is my first attempt at "posting" but stay tuned for more poems, quotes, songs and thoughts. Hope something in your life is touched or enriched when you visit. Blessings, Chap