tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39144023942171164802024-03-14T00:54:10.153-07:00left of centerardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-3874221021871869202011-01-19T17:26:00.000-08:002011-01-19T17:45:12.561-08:00partialAm I young, am I simple,<div>Am I thirsty for the truth?</div><div>Am I stung, am I civil,</div><div>Am I secretly uncouth?</div><div>Am I rich, am I broken,</div><div>Am I dangerously thin?</div><div>Should I switch for this token,</div><div>And fast forward to the end?</div><div>Shall I move, shall I wait, </div><div>Am I dressed well for the king?</div><div>Dare I mold my own fate,</div><div>Am I partial to the sting?</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>ardentish</b></span></div>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-65535190850357352952010-11-30T11:24:00.000-08:002011-01-19T15:47:24.830-08:00torrentDirty rotten tyranny<br />Beckoning captivity<br />Bait and switch so I can't see<br />But my hands are free<br />Still you're binding me<br /><br />Tyranny<br />My sweet repose<br />Stay with me<br />While the curtains close<br /><br /><em><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">*ardent*</span></strong></em>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-7533098176279686702010-08-31T08:25:00.000-07:002011-01-19T15:48:05.368-08:00Rear view<span style="color:#333333;">You wouldn't believe</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">The places I've been,</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I loved my pain,</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I loved my sin.</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I didn't know</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">Whom true Love would send,</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">That my Savior </span><span style="color:#ff0000;">forgave</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">What <span style="color:#333333;">stained </span>my skin.</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;"></span><br /><strong><span style="color:#009900;">ardent</span></strong>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-22022137221993183932010-05-24T15:14:00.000-07:002011-01-20T14:43:50.578-08:00awareI love my family and few loyal friends, I work hard and find joy in the little things. Admittedly I require a lot of patience but I love with everythingI have. I like old music and old movies; nothing replaces a classic. I crave challenge and can be a bit stubborn, but can admit when I'm at fault. I believe that humble is the best attitude to have and that selfish ambition is the quickest way to build a tower that will crumble and fall. My biggest fear is failure. I'm learning that every new day is both a lesson to be learned and another opportunity to serve Him whom has blessed me beyond measure.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66ff99;"><em><strong>ardent</strong></em></span>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-61636297311118055752010-05-24T15:10:00.000-07:002011-01-19T15:50:30.837-08:00unkempti'm faith that's fallen hollow<br />and i'm hope you cannot have,<br />i'm difficult to swallow;<br />a cold and dirty bath.<br />i'm tales of subtle terror<br />and i'm lies in times of peace,<br />i'm disappointment's bearer;<br />formed of barbedwire and fleece.<br />i'm sorrow contradiction,<br />and i'm words you shouldn't say,<br />i'm narrow in dipiction,<br />i'm both predator and prey.<br />i'm ice in any season;<br />that sweet and sour gulp,<br />a s0ul thats tried for treason<br />and a fruit bereft of pulp.<br /><br />-<span style="color:#33cc00;"><strong>ardent</strong></span>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-26338412241725348162010-05-24T14:32:00.000-07:002011-01-19T15:49:43.587-08:00airp0rtyou wink at me like a low flying plane<br />and i tiptoe into thoughts of leaving this place with you.<br />soon i wade in safe adventure,<br />my eyes steady with your signal<br />shooting across miles of my darkness.<br />i take you in until my focus adjusts;<br />as i get closer i see the outline of the<br />cold<br />metal frame on which your beacon is crowned.<br />you are a stationary tower<br />and my heart falls from a ledge as tall as your facaud.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#006600;">ardent</span></strong>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-16738582238324145882010-04-14T21:36:00.000-07:002010-04-14T21:48:52.824-07:00count it all joyMy brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials. ... James 1:2<br /><br />It is certainly easier said than done. My trials have been self-inflicted I'm afraid. ...I've tried to impose my will on God for nearly two years. I guess I never heard Him laughing at my plans. Sometimes the Lord removes an element out of our lives that serves as a hindrance to our relationship with Him, to include sources of pride, temptation or idolatry. Knowing Christ is knowing that there is a bigger picture. My current season of brokenness has endeared me back to Him as I'm urged to cling to His promises. My prayer is that this trial serves as an opportunity to minister to others with similar struggles. Lord thank you for clearing the fog in my life and for ending my aimless pursuits. =)<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#009900;">*ardent*</span></strong>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-19625657577233580352009-12-14T15:53:00.001-08:002009-12-16T08:56:03.480-08:00wastelandwe were just outside of flagstaff, when the drugs began to take hold. there's nothing more adventuresome than a heart that beats past its capability; than to wonder if the coming moments would hold wild halucinations and raw perspective or an absence of pulse. these were the scary days worth living. and devon, laying helplessly against the tattered cadillac interior, ached solely for a girl that would stir in him utter confusion. the desert wind donated its sweet sediment to our hair, our eyes captive to the neons until we hit asphalt. the sidewalks crawled with drunkards, with sterile smiles and greasy flashbulbs. "who brought us to this human circus?" devon cried out from beneath his crouched cap. he lit up a red whos smoke kept company with acid-induced rambles and uncited quotes, all the while i held tight to my wheel and what faith i had salvaged. the tires were tired, they drug us sluggishly further into sin, the city of. The glitzyhotels and showgirl silhouettes caught every one of my glances; my head slung heavily downwards then shook itself steady as chemicals swam through the vital crimson liquid that my heart kept in rythmic circulation. our aged swagger took us not so steadily into the city, where a fever lay on our skin, inviting its own way. i heard levers pulled and pulled again, keeping pace with anxious hearts while risks were taken and dignity was lost. devon was not far behind, the lights beaming off his cheek, his eyes in unruly wonderment. his manic sway led him through a sea of empty faces; his britches low and eyes keen. devon suffocated in a world of static while longing for a pretty pocket book.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#006600;">*ardent*</span></strong>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-36615043664682874002009-12-14T15:45:00.000-08:002009-12-16T08:59:01.741-08:00dalla$dallas was about as pretty as a cocaine smile; fake, induced, expensively enhanced. there were a few cool cats walking around but their scent was nearly extinguished by the smouldering presence of the young dead. sometimes it would sink into my skin; i longed to see solar nails and tan arms when i reached for a drink i didn't have to buy. that's why God doesn't ever want us to compare ourselves to others; insecurity is a sneaky poison that nibbles at the flesh until it is able to reside beneath it, churning it's toxin into the blood until the soul is tortured into feeling feel dull and common.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">*ardent*</span></strong>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-32485580345713698582009-12-14T15:43:00.000-08:002009-12-16T08:53:10.497-08:00shelterYou hold me with scarred hands<br />and a strength I've never known<br />You've always had a plan<br />despite the rotten seeds I've sewn<br />the temple that I've tortured and painted<br />was caught with gentle strength as I fainted<br />lost my grip on the empty promise of this world<br />found a love with which i've never been acquainted<br /><br />(chorus)<br />hold the heart you made Lord<br />and cleanse me once again<br />taking shelter in your grace Lord<br />I will let my life begin<br /><br />In You I am strengthened<br />in adam I am lost<br />in flesh I am weak<br />but You paid the cost<br />my sin now forgiven<br />my burden relieved<br />I walk now in the truth<br />when I once was deceived<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ff99;">*ardent*</span></strong>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-38039741489669863372009-11-18T17:56:00.000-08:002009-11-18T18:04:54.956-08:00the end of the roadThe end of the road is not a pleasant place for those who crave challenge. To never be more certain of how you've felt and end up totally wrong can be discouraging. The one beautiful outcome of this failed endeavour regarding love was learning that I had the capacity to feel it. <br /><br />P.S. he felt like homeardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-25410641695980810912009-08-24T15:42:00.000-07:002011-01-19T15:51:35.116-08:00all is fair<div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">All is fair</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">in love and war,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">that's what I've heard them say</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">before.</span></div><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></p><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">Without a care </span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">she left the shore,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">for hands she trusted and </span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">adored.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">A tiny snare </span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">and now you're torn,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">you really needn't stay for </span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">more.</span></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#66ff99;"></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#66ff99;"></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#66ff99;">*<span style="color:#33ff33;">broken ardent</span>*</span></strong></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#666666;">p.s. where's my life jacket again?</span></p>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-30218110290495650382009-08-21T10:27:00.000-07:002009-08-21T14:22:36.166-07:00hefeweizen<span style="color:#666666;">a citrus slice bouyant in our brew;</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">our words loose,</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">our glances few.</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">yet here we are again you know;</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">i missed you so,</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">my gentle foe.</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">i wonder where we'll find our end</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">if once again</span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">we break to bend.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"><strong>*ardent*</strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ff99;"></span></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">p.s. honesty is like exhaling</span>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914402394217116480.post-58854867811059358342009-08-14T12:38:00.000-07:002009-08-21T09:56:13.206-07:00introduction<div>Quick intro. ...</div><br />
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<br /><div>An old friend set up this acct for me to let people see my work, which has never earned a label other than "dark" or "interesting". The words my mind couple lay behind quiet lips; they stumble onto bar napkins and deny edit. To their refuge I've maintained a certain attachment; a fascination with their conditional intent, their sting, their quiet command in unbridled assembly. The only requirement I have of myself regarding this blogging endeavor is the absolute avoidance of, at all costs, the delete button.</div>
<br /><div> </div>
<br /><div>Until next time folks,</div>
<br /><div><strong><font color="#33cc00">Ardent</font></strong></div>
<br /><div><strong><font color="#33cc00"></font></strong> </div>
<br /><div><font color="#000000">P.S. (post scriptum) is the dessert. There's always room for sweet afterthoughts</font></div>ardenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09223050005849268955noreply@blogger.com1