I love you family

To be read when I am gone. Each family member should read their own. 

My family. I love you. For this past year you've caused tears to roll down my cheeks, for this day. Thanks for the times we've shared. If leaving on my mission can accomplish only one thing with you guys, I want it to bring you closer. Realize that family time is precious above everything else. Build your relationships with intentional effort. I love you guys. 

Tyler- as we "painted" the inside of the playhouse you looked at me with concern because I was crying. I tried to explain my tears were for you. But at least you understand "comfort" and "love" already and that's all I felt through your kind hug to me. I love you. 

Sarah- you know how to love.  Your hugs to me have always been sincere. Thanks for asking me to play all the time. I love you. 

Rebecca- when you're laughing hard, everyone else is too, because of you. Thanks for being the biggest fan of our dances in my room. You dance hard! Thanks you for sharing with me a love of ewoks. I love you. 

Katelyn- remember driving fast in our church parking lot and turning really hard? I do. You're always willing to spend time with me whether it's teaching me how to do something, or playing sports. I love you. 

Kyle- I remember as a little kid you always make me laugh when you stole my stuff, and then would laugh so hard you couldn't run fast enough  to escape. Also it's a pleasant surprise when I find out I have so many new pictures on my iPod – all crazy selfie's of you. I remember teaching you chords on the guitar. I remember giving you a long hug when you were crying because I was going. I'm giving you one now in spirit too. I love you. 

Melissa- you're kind. You can sympathize with others very well. It meant a lot to me when you asked me to teach you how to throw a frisbee. You also share a love of plays with me. Thank you for always helping out with the kids. I also remember giving you a long hug when you were crying because I was going. That made me feel loved. It's comforting to know that this isn't hard just only for me. I love you. 

Rachel- thanks for going on the Sundance lift with me. You made a day of out of shape hillclimbing, gas spilling, awkward prolonged cashier eye contact, and wrong turning, turn into a loved memory. Thanks for always baking good food. You're going to be a great mother. I admire your love of reading. You're smart. And you'll be successful. I love you. 

Kevin- I guess I can say that I've gotten to know you better than myself, after a lifetime of sharing a room with you :-). When you're focused your FOCUSED! Your creative, innovative, and fearless. I always admire how you've always stuck to your workouts. Hiking Timp for your eagle will be a happy memory for me on my mission. I loved that so much. Thanks for truly being a friend to me. We've done so much together. I love you. 

Allison- i'm so grateful we've been able to grow our relationship and friendship so much this year. Thanks for all the support you've given me. Your personality is so fun, giving, accepting, connecting, and delightful to be around. I'm so glad you're my sister and I love you. I love remembering times we worked the same shift at Orange Leaf.  I always looked forward to those. Haha Asian pedicure ladies and getting kicked in the face, Sherri murdering people, and going to cafe rio. You're independent and I admire that. You'll do great in college and if you choose to serve a mission. You're so good at sharing, I remember when we were little kids, how you would always share your candy with me and others. You're pretty. I love you. 

Haha Me- work hard on your mission and give everything you can to the Lord.

Mom- thank you for everything. You hold this family together. You do so much that we fail to appreciate. Thanks for always caring about how I feel and always listening. You have a great laugh and pretty eyes. Thank you for teaching me to love others. Thank you for your example to me of service. I remember you helping a wheelchaired person on an Oregon beach. And you didn't even hesitate. I want to be like you. I love you.

Dad- thank you for being so invested in my success and in my mission. Thank you for teaching me how to work hard. Thank you for being an example of a priesthood man. You're righteous and a good example. I can see your righteous desires and care for our family. Your choices you've made in your life, especially with the situation you've come from, is inspiring to me. Thank you for choosing the Gospel. I don't know what I'd do without it. Also, you sparked my testimony of Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father. You've built it on so many occasions. I love your testimony. Thank you. I love you. 

Family, please pray for me. Please pray for my Spanish, for help not being home-sick, and for help with the transition. As I'm writing this I have faith in Heavenly Father, but there are times where I feel scared. But I choose faith. 

Until my first letter, I love you. 

-Jacob

July 1

I want to leave you a part of me. 

Not a gift, because I'm poor and gift giving was never our love language anyway. 

So I'll leave you words. 

Here are my scattered & unfiltered thoughts: 

I just want to write something beautiful,

Like you. 

For you. About you. 

Because of you I'm not afraid of wearing glasses. 

Because of you I've braved my fear of heights. 

Because of you we could prove we would do this right. 

We've already practiced this patience thing before so this is nothing new. 

For 2.5 we'll have to remember memories and love in photographs and letters.

These feelings are taller than I am.

I can't wait to fall more in love with you after our missions. 

July 1 doesn't care how we feel. 

And they don't either. 

They were working and we only had two more days together. 

That dude was biking and we only had two more days together. 

They took family pictures and we only had two more days together. 

That lady was on her phone and we only had two more days together. 

It amazes me how we only had two days together and no one else knows how it feels. 

But now it's here. 

And we don't have any more days together. 

July 1 doesn't care how it feels. He's come regardless of how we feel. 

Songs we played our last night together

Run and go by 21 pilots 

Trees by 21 pilots 

Last Date by Floyd Cramer

Photograph by Ed Sheeran

But most of our night was filled with deep-thought-silence and "how did we get here?"

We were staring into Salt Lake Valley and at the airplanes and what they meant. We were talking into our tomorrow's and remembering our yesterdays. 

Here's a soundtrack to us. 

80s dance-Closer to love by Mat Kerney

Tuesday's night and Wednesday's flight- photograph by Ed Sheeran

Falling in love- wait by M83 and adore you by Miley Cyrus

Our Last date- yellow by Coldplay 

10,000 emerald pools- as itself 

May 11-everything has changed by Taylor swift ft. Ed Sheeran

May 28-bonfire heart by James Blunt

Post mission reunion- all this time by one republic 

I gave you my Mexico bracelet because I want you to remember me every day. 

This Monday morning held the most meaningful silence. And these Monday night tears are for you, because this is hard. 

 

You asked if I had any last words and all I could think of was:

"Thank you"

And "I love you."

Ode to May 28th

Maybe it was the air that night

Maybe it was your hair that night

Maybe it was because we graduated 8 hours earlier

Maybe it was the view

Maybe it was the wishbone stick we broke 

Maybe it was my wish coming true

Maybe it was the future calling to us

Mine 34 days away 

And yours 10 days away and in our sight

Maybe it was the lung heaving and heart beating

Lung heaving because it stole our moment's breath 

And made our moment's heart skip

Oh and because we were hiking hardcore. 

Mom said it was about time

Dad said he figured we would happen 

Maybe it was driving the loop that night going hard to our music 

Maybe it was all the "wait"ing our "bonfire hearts" went through 

Maybe it was when you said you'll miss seeing me everyday and how you praise us

Maybe it was how you said my eyes are perfect and how we are perfect and how this was perfect

Maybe it was the atmosphere and how we couldn't shake it if we wanted 

Maybe it was that moment

Maybe it was that moment I went to hold your hand

Maybe it was the fence with our elbows on it

Maybe it's because all of this feels right

One thing is for sure: our checks are sore from smiling so much.

May 11th

K. I'll tell you straight up. 

This? This. Is. A. Love. Poem. 

The way 

The way all the radio can do is make me think of you. 

The way we've never kissed. 

The way she feels "love" is the biggest four letter word. 

The way her lips meet resistance when she wants to say "love."

The way she translates my heart throbs into penstrokes. 

The way her hair falls over her face. 

The way she carries her identity lighter than air. 

The way we click better than the hands of a clock. 

The way we mesh better than gears. 

The way we write our hearts to each other. 

You are an empty highway

In a flaming sunset. 

43 days left. 

Clock hands are forcing us to pick up the future. 

I'm afraid we'll just have to live with that. 

But at lease we've never been people to scargaze. 

Holy cow I just want to write something beautiful. 

I'll sing to you, and you'll read to me. 

We sound cliche but that's never felt farther away.

This all kind of started with a game of tic-tac-toe. 

From there we've played a game we won't forget. 

We've met an equal match. 

You said you just wanted to harmonize 

And that's all it feels we do. 

So, thank you. 

If you really knew me

My middle name is Allen 

I was born on Nov 14, 1996 

in Tucson, AZ

I'm self conscious about being funny

More often than not idk what to do with my hands 

My mission call is to Chile Osorno

I used to be afraid of learning Spanish 

I like it when people call me "jake" and I love it when they call me "Jake West"

My mom told me not to let anyone call me "Jake" because my name is Jacob.

I stopped doing that because I like jake more. 

Im the oldest of 10 kids and I'm afraid of growing distant from them because of my mission 

I have a 4.0 and 4th term of senior year will probably change that :)

I love laughing hard. 

I make things funny in my head and when people ask why I'm laughing and I try o explain and it never works and then I'll feel dumb

I used to be terrified of fireworks 

Hugs are easy

I'm a sucker for Australian accents

I stress too much about sweating too much

I'm a totall morning person. 

My first dunk was January of sophomore year. 

Also in sophomore year I fasted for the ability to talk to girls... yeah :)

I'm a good sport but I hate losing

When I do something, I give it my all. 

I'm a singer, but I've never sung a solo

I have 45 days left till two years away

Suncerest elementary, I was the king of that school!

I lived my childhood in Orem

I haven't missed a day of scripture reading for 6 years

I love public speaking. 

In 2nd-5th grade I had a "girlfriend" named Gini. We never actually talked.

As a kid I had night terrors. 

I have a chicken pox scar on the outside of my right eyebrow. 

I'm like, really good at throwing frisbees. 

Whenever I break out it's between my eyebrows and idk why. 

Gospel is bae 

I love a girl. 

Her name is gospel. 

Haha jk it's something else. 

My taste in music is expansive. 

Too much makeup makes me gag. No seriously. It does. 

I have a 37" running vertical leap

I love smiling

I have a dead tooth from being elbowed in the mouth

I love poetry

I'm self conscious about dancing like a white guy. 

I put barbecue sauce on burritos and quesadillas. 

My left pocket always holds my iPod. My right holds consecrated oil and Chapstick. Back right holds wallet and back left holds poem drafts. 

I love black people 

My biggest pet peeve is when people glance at their phones while I'm talking to them. 

Attractive

Here's a piece of my heart, this is a list of things that I find most attractive:

-Confidence. Unapologetic confidence. 

-Identity. They know who they are. 

-Standards. She has them. Sticks to them. 

-Laugh. They love to laugh. 

-HAPPY. Smiles. Optimistic. Illuminate the room. 

-Morivated. They have goals. Successful. Driven. 

-Hard Working. 'Nuf said. 

-Down to earth. Smart with their money. Chill with anything. 

-Family. They love and respect theirs. They are close with their family. 

-Willing to try new things. 

-Service. They seek to serve others. They reach out to the individual. 

-Assertive. Voice their opinion. Honest. Constructive criticism. 

Heart

This song has so much "heart in it. 

The lyrics... Listen to them.

With or Without you by U2: http://youtu.be/EzeDqRhM09w

Overheard On The Titanic

Here is my poetry video I made for the Writers Paris Film Festival. 

http://youtu.be/1zuLUvoWJRQ

For those who are stressed

This one is for all of you who are stressed out. 

Here are some things to help you handle the pressures and stresses that you are compelled to deal with. #APtests and other such yada yada. 

-Hymn 85 "How Firm a Foundation." Read the lyrics

-D&C 112:10

-Isaiah 41:13

-1 Nephi 7:12

-D&C 78:17

-Ether 2:24

-Jacob 7:25

-D&C 35:26

-D&C 6:36

-John 14:27

-D&C 6:34

-Romans 8:28

-John 16:20-22, 33

-1 Peter 5:6-7

-D&C 49:28

The future is calling

Dear Monday evening,

I just picked up the next 2 years of my life. 

Arcade fire sang me into Provo and the spring atmosphere was a beautiful garnish. 

The earth painted her face in glowing green grass, buttermilk blossoms, and a waning sunlight hourglass. 

Guys, the future is calling. 

Dear Monday evening,

The wind from my wound down windows pulled happy, flickering tears across my cheeks like summertime ice blocking. 

My mind raced into the future faster than the car I drove. 

I whipped past Chile, 

I whisked past BYU, 

I zipped through the scenic route, passing a reservoir of memories to be made,

I walked (slowly) past her,

I drank happiness like chilled fizzy pop on a hot summer day.

Guys, the future is calling. 

Dear Monday evening,

The color red held me at bay long enough to see the phases of life pass on the left. 

A teen, aged into a college student, into a middle-aged married man, and grew to an elderly gentleman. 

Guys, the future is calling. 

Dear Monday evening,

Ring out your eyes for the goodness of your future.

Guys, the future is calling. 

Dear Monday evening,

One month- AP tests 

Two months- graduation

Three months- 2 years away

Now- the future is calling. 

Dear Chile, Osorno

You've sunk into me. 

I'll be hugging away all I've known 

I'll be plunging emotions down my throat I'll be sitting on the plane 

I'll be staring at my shoes 

I'll be looking forward.

Guys, the future is calling.

Dear Monday evening,

I want to remember how you made me feel. 

Yes, you. 

I want to remember wasted hours, neighborhoods, waking up, and rebellion.

Dear Monday evening, 

Take a hike. 

Took one with my cousin Christian. 

We left our childhood on the "Y."

Dear Monday evening,

I remember we were spitting seeds. 

I remember we were spitting memories. 

I remember he was spitting advice. 

I remember I was spitting "Hurrah for Israel!" 

I remember my eyes were spitting tears.

Guys, the future is calling. 

Dear Monday evening,

Call us the sun because we will always be moving West 

towards the next stage. 

And just like sunsets, 

that can be beautiful. 

And you guys will be there too, 

and endings are beautiful like you.

Dear Monday evening, 

Words can't describe what you mean

To me. 

And Guys, the future is calling. 

To me. 

#Dugout

We've all made choices that leave us at baggage claim. 

And I'm learning. 

And I'm trying. 

And I wouldn't change that. 

And I know you understand me. 

My head and my heart had been playing tug-of-war for a bit there,

And you were caught in the middle. 

But our moment though,

On that dugout though. 

That moment whispered. 

That moment whispered:

"Hey heart! Chill. 

Hush, The past is behind us and looks to find us at rest. 

Where finally, 

Parallel feelings have MET. 

So let's breath out & breathe in,

& no, we're not dreaming.

So let's simmer in these deep pulsing feelings, &

Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

This feels good."

"Savior, Redeemer of my soul"

Lyrics from hymn 112, "Savior, Redeemer of my soul."

"Never can I repay the Lord,

But I can love thee

Thy pure word,

Hath it not been my one delight,

My joy by day, my dream by night?

Then let my lips proclaim it still,

And all my life reflect thy will. 

Chasten my soul till I shall be

In perfect harmony with thee. 

Make me more worthy of thy love,

And fit me for the life above."

I Am....

Alrighty, let's keep this short and sweet. 

I am JACOB WEST

A Poem I wish I Never Wrote

    I wrote this poem last year for a girl. I told myself that no one would ever read this. Not my swerviest move, but I wrote it nonetheless. And if you know me you know how the rest of this story goes...

Our Heart and the Stars:

I wrote down what the stars spoke. What they told me so often. 

The stars held my hand till I held hers. Promising they were little holes that the sun shone through. That the night sky was just a thick blanket and that they- the stars- were glimpses at a brighter tomorrow. Everytime you spoke liquid bells sounded forth, sharing what the stars said. You didn't know it, but every time you spoke, you spoke their language. Now here at last, we can look at the beginning together. And hear what the stars say to us. Listen and understand together. That we are for each other. That we feel the same. And hand in hand I whisper in your ear "I love you (insert name here)." And the stars don't talk anymore, they sing to us now.  Dance poetry across the sky. So our hearts join them in singing, as we enjoy each other's company, being young. And the only thing we can see is each other and the stars. 

An Honorable Death

"To the valiant seamen who perished on the Maine,

by fate unwarned, in death unafraid."

Things I Know.

-Ask and ye shall receive, works.
-We are youth of a noble birthright.
-We are children of God and He has a work for us to do.
-God has deeper purposes that we sometimes fail to see when things don't "go right."
-Life is more than just being born, working, surviving, and then dying. Life has a meaning.
-Doing things the Lord's way instead of our way is always what is best for us.
-Following a prompting from the Holy Ghost is always the right thing to do. It will always bring us closer to our Savior Jesus Christ.
-Trust in our Heavenly Father to guide us, help us, and take care of us; because He is Heavenly Father, and He will never let us down. He wants the best for us.
-We can trust in God. Because he is God.

These things I know.

And you can know too if you just ask Him, and then trust in His timing.

Something Everybody Should See

This is something everybody should see. I found it on twitter. It was written by a blogger who has struggled with depression.

"At 17, I was a depressed teenager who self harmed and wondered about just how painful it could possible be to end my life.

Right now, I'm laying on the couch, and I can hear my husband reading our four year old a bedtime story using silly voices.

Life gets better. Make sure you're there to see it.

I just started crying.

this is very important

Read this, over and over again. It really does get better."

Notes to people who will never read them

-Dear black guy in the white suit who tripped in the uptown funk music video, I noticed.
-Dear mop top kid in my creative writing class, I hope I've made you feel comfortable.
-Dear Chase and Caleb, I met you because of Sam, I hope you feel like I like you.
-Dear muscly kid who drives an A Plus, thank you for your perspective.
-Dear silver haired man that cares, thanks for caring.
-Brother Durant, I hope you don't notice my eyes when they shut for more than a few seconds, I'm trying to be respectful.
-Dear career stereotypes about scientists and engineers and the marketers, some may be true, but character is what counts.
-Dear pencil-drilled holes in desks, I don't know what amount of pain or boredom birthed your existence.
-Dear kid who doesn't know how he smells, I don't mind because I know your past, I just hope others choose to understand too.
-Dear Melodians and Toots & Maytals, I recognize you.
-Dear white iPhone case and Dear Giraffe iPhone case, please be grateful that virtuous young daughters of God hold you in their hands.
-Dear people who have snarked at my journal entry on page 12, I'm a little self-conscious of writing in purple now.
-Dear purple pen I write with, I'll still write with you because you make me feel sensitive, self-conscious, and vulnerable. Because you remind me of killing me in that purple long sleeve shirt, and a month.
-Dear pulsing gold pants that are on the father's dancing hips, you left me speechless.
-Dear camera man with the camo pants, long sleeve jean shirt, and forest green beret; thanks for filming Frank's dunk against AF.
-Dear Grand Poobah, you're the successor to ISIS, you're a terrorist, and I believe that is wrong. But you do have a pretty cool name :)
-Dear people who know my pen name, I sometimes have to filter stuff for you, sometimes I don't.

Things That Make Me Happy

Green left turn arrows, friendly cashiers, fast sunday dinners,
feeling like I can drink water forever, nailing a harmony, getting compliments,
people who smile back at you in the halls, strangers who say "hi" first,
dates, laughing so hard that i start crying (almost),
upbeat music, days with nothing to do, finishing homework,
cafe rio burritos, frog eye salad, happy family time,
when feelings are mutual, secret vocabularies between friends,
when someone finally tells you that secret, feeling in shape,
finally saying what was on the tip of my tongue,
people who lift you up because they're on the same level as you.

what the stump teaches

I've had moments where I've felt far away. While reading fable haven was one of them. I think it was when I was reading about a giant. The top of wheeler peak is another place. And the top of timp. Or when I'm in a hotel in a Chicago suburb, or in a sketchy Hispanic Southern California neighborhood. Or when I'm so zoned in on a calculus problem. Or when I'm studying and the spirit is teaching. Or when I'm almost crying to "stubborn love" when I'm driving her back for the last time. Or when I was dehydrated at the top of grove creek canyon. Or when I stared down the bear claw slopes. 

Even though you were 15 feet away, with that sunset, it felt closer. And both our heads were flipped upside down to see it differently. And I wonder what it feels like to see things from other people's perspectives. But I need to make sure my heart is seated, waiting for the final exam. Pencil in hand. Because the words I'll write down will leap off the page into my mouth. And I won't be able to do anything but spew them to you. Just like smoke they'll wisp into the sky and join the sun, the moon, and the stars in their own quest to give me the light. The moon will hold those words, and advertise them to me as it finds me in a car after I just lost another tic-tac-toe game on foggy car window. Or when it found them on their first. The wheels on that car spun too fast, the asphalt groaned, and next week grinned ear to ear. 

The house I'm building is made out of the solid memories made. The wood grew from a forest. This forest was explored by a man with an eye for the unknown. The unknown is what lies ahead of every Iceland road shadowed by Iceland mountains under an Iceland sky. Every Iceland goat came from a mama goat that came from a long heritage of proud mama goats, back to the beginning. It was there for every moment that mattered. And when you think about everyone's moments that mattered it's a walk by the pond with bread in hand to feed the ducks. It's every beveled dresser edge. It's everyone's grandparents old rocker. It's every funeral that had a good ending. And it's every time the sun is out just enough to draw your spirit from its burrow into something greater than itself. 

Just like when Jonah found himself back in Ninnevah. Just like when Jonah found himself back in Ninnevah. What that must have felt like. A call from the past. A cry to the future. A change for the better. I imagine Jonah felt like every anonymous valentine. Because every anonymous valentine has yet to find most of us. It's a high dive, a broken porcelain bathtub, and a mighty stump that is now a stepping stool to what life used to be. 

So let's sit there for a while, and watch the telephone wires shoot back and forth messages that need to be said right now, and let's wait. Let's sit there for a while, and watch the clouds change their shapes and speak to each other like whales in the ocean speak, like crackling fires speak, and let's wait. So let's sit there for a while, and think about every basement bookcase that dutifully holds the words of prophets, poets, and pages of professors that will go unreviewed until the will splits the inheritance between mourners, and let's wait. So let's sit there for a while, and think about how the berry bushes feel about having soccer balls blast through their branches. They must worry about the golden gems they hold out to us so dearly, and that's all they live for, so let's think about them, and let's wait. So let's sit there for a while, and pray for the sweet old lady in whose backyard we sit, she never found love but sure knows how to dish it out in the form of Easter egg hunt memories and Halloween visits, both of which never went without enough pictures to fill a photo album, and let's wait. Let's wait for the future to take its time to come because we are realizing that even though the stump may be hard he comfortably shows us what he sees, just like grandpa.

 I'm learning to see life more like grandpa. 

A Soundtrack To My Life

Click the event to listen to it.

My First Time Skiing

9th Grade Conditioning Practices

Becoming Best Buddies with (insert names here)

The Last Day Of 9th Grade

'14-'15 New Years Eve

My First Job

Moving In 6th Grade

Making A Hard Choice Last Summer

My First Date

Orem Owl Baseball Games

Harrison Koford

My Childhood

Junior Year

My Dad
Finishing Drivers Ed

#StolenBricks

"I'm sorry that  I already know I cannot marry you. I'm sorry that I love you." -Auburn Crane
"We carry weights on our ankles" -Katelyn
"God has spoken to my heart one too many times for me to question my humanity." -Nemo Green
"I have a stomach that eats more butterfly's than it can handle at times." -Roosevelt Lee
"I still remember the sound of your voice that night." -KDR
"Go out and love, Go out and be powerful." -A.S. Ketchum
"He walked me home when crickets sang... But love was a pair of iceberg eyes." -Sonny Jean
"I love when people begin a sentence and abandon it when they realize they don't know what they want to say." -Beatrice McCandless
"We are young but love isn't." -Sierra Leone
"Love sees what it wants to..." -Elouise Hughes
"The moon is a cheese grater." -Definitely not Amy
"Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe." -Here comes the sun
"Always be ready for adventure." -Allison
"Eyes flickered with the flames...they built a campfire but their eyes were holding bonfires" -Lombard Street
"She's got copper eyes like the sunrise" -Brain

If you're not on this it's because I haven't read enough yet. My bad.

Grand Theft Poetry

I think it was three days ago
I first became aware-
This box contains documents of no value.
Only when the last tree
Has been cut down
And the last river
Has dried to a trickle
Will man finally realize
That we cannot eat money
And reciting old proverbs
Makes you sound like a twat.
I hope you understand
Love is profoundly tender.
Let the flames inside you
Lick your lips.
And the irony does not escape me.

For Pops

I don't just love girls, I love my old man:

As I sat there pouring over your perspective I couldn't help but love you even more.
I think of you as a tree that grew from a sprout that grew from a sidewalk crack in a scorching Fontana, CA sun.
You've chosen the best part. The amount of support you had in the right direction  was about as strong as an un-splinted broken leg
You didn't have to climb all the mountains you did,

instead you ran them.

The man I love most, became who he was in Brookville, Pennsylvania; through every new kid school yard fight; through every girl he chose not to kiss because that was the right thing to do; through every tender, spirit-filled teaching moment; through every watery eyed grown-men-can-cry moment; through every love filled let me-give-you-a-blessing-because-you're-hurting moment; and by saving your mom countless times over.
I love you because you loved me first. No one knows this, but whenever I am writing about you, I don't write "dad," but "Dad."

Because you deserve it.

Your example has showed me the way. I remember a night when I sat listening to you telling me about something I've already forgotten, but I remember sitting there, looking at you, at the man you are, and living in the moment because I was with my Dad living in something I wouldn't have forever.
I'll be gone in less than two seasons, and I've felt the advice to make more family time far before it was ever given.
We're right, and I'm not mad. Just like I'm grateful for the time that hurt us the most.
When I quit football I first thought of you. I've never wanted to let you down. I've relived every time you've told me "you're a good boy (my name)," too many times to count.
This life I'm building, it's a monument to you.
Because I wanted to prove to you I could work.
Because if I was hard-working, I knew I'd be like you.
And I've arrived.

Now watch me continue to arrive.

I've followed in every footstep in the snow you've left, as clumsy as I may be, but I'm following.
I will always be growing up to be like you.

I love you Dad.

A letter to my future eternal bae

This poem isn't for me, or for you, it's for HER, my future wife:

I'm waiting for the day when I can kneel with somebody, somewhere sacred and say what I've always wanted to.
Things like "I'm glad I waited for you." And say some other things that can't be said.
I'll be able to rest from "the others" and look back like an old person and throw out a bunch of "I remembers."
Then I can look forward to the point where my eyes won't be able to see and my mind still struggles to grasp
and we can let that marinate in both of our minds for as long as it takes us.
I still can't believe I'll be with her forever and she'll believe we're too good to be true.
We'll make banana pancakes and do other things white people in Hawaii sing about.
Then I'll be embarrassed because not every love poem I ever wrote was about you and not every kiss I gave was to you.
 But you'll tell me it's alright and that I worry too much and that we've both hiked that clumsy uphill trail to "here."
And we'll live in the "here" in silence for a bit and then make some eye contact and show smiles to each other that hold so much more meaning than anyone else could ever understand.
I don't know how we'll meet, or if we've met, but I can confidently show you this poem, because this one is for YOU.
And its about time, and I'm 18, and I'm getting a call to 2 years of my life in just over two weeks.
Man, I need to relish in the fact that I can only say that poetic line for about 6 more days.
Know I've been praying for you for many years, and every time it hits me that you are alive on this earth it brings a buoyant smile to the corners of my lips.
I've wondered so much about you, and I can't wait to know you. Or do I know you already?
Either way you'll amaze me still. And I've been praying for us to become prepared for "us" for a long time.
And all I've done and have been doing has been a monument for my Dad, my Mom, you, me, our future, and the future of our little half-me's and half-you's.
Please be patient with me when I become too excited with what I have to say and it doesn't seem to come out right.
I'm working on it.
You'll get my humor and realize how hilarious I really am, and how the small things can be enjoyed so much.
We'll both seethe in jealously over each other's pearly whites.
And I know that line does seem a bit out of place.
I see us slow dancing in the kitchen to our music.
I see us nuzzled up after a hard day of work and an evening to relax with.
Because hard work is happiness and evenings are meant to be enjoyed.
And this poem is to be continued...

Wise Words

"They say all foxes are slightly allergic to linoleum, but it's cool to the paw - try it. They say my tail needs to be dry cleaned twice a month, but now it's fully detachable - see? They say our tree may never grow back, but one day, something will. Yes, these crackles are made of synthetic goose and these giblets come from artificial squab and even these apples look fake - but at least they've got stars on them. I guess my point is, we'll eat tonight, and we'll eat together. And even in this not particularly flattering light, you are without a doubt the five and a half most wonderful wild animals I've ever met in my life. So let's raise our boxes - to our survival."

 -Fantastic Mr. Fox

So keep your head up sporty-spice and pull through, bear-down.

 

My Two "Unknowns"

Just like the boy in the sword and the stone I've been tugging at the unknown for some time.
But I have two of them.


I've hoped to say everything I couldn't,
but my obscurity wears out faster than a pair of work pants.


Excuse my persistence,
but please be flattered by it.

We're have similarities.
We both passed chemistry with an "A"
but failed to admit it to ourselves.


Last year, I needed a punch in the face
and a new pair of corrective lenses
because I couldn't see what I was doing.


Please give me both,
a punch and new lenses,
because my greatest fear is of sliding in that direction again.
And I'll go where I can except when I can't.


I've never really been tempted to smoke cigarettes
because sprinting past asthma was suffocating enough.


I've never really been tempted to drink
because my desire to feel like puking
has been gratified through conditioning workouts.


But November has been marinating in my mind,
and December still makes me shiver,
and November took my breath away,
and December makes me think of that midnight car ride,
and January was uneventful,
but February should kiss one of my two unknowns good-bye.


So here is to the other unknown.
If you've read my poetry you've read me.
So read my everything,
and feel my subliminals pulsing.

The Common Conscience

Foreword to the common conscience: this poem is for all those who aren't choosing the better part. Only you can know what that means. I used to be you. Feel me speak to you.

Everyone in this world has things In common

We are all collectors. 

We are collectors of bad decisions,

But these shouldn't define us. 

We all try to sell the belief "I don't have problems"

for discount prices at yard sales nobody shops at. 

Humanity is here because of love. 

We are all God's children. 

We are stories. 

Everyone of us is a story.

We are musicians that toot our own horn and play the music of our heart. 

There's a little man inside of us that can lift us or level us.  

He lives somewhere between heaven and hell at the intersection of desires, in the house of the rising sun. 

His room number's unknown, but it's equal to the number of times you've let him down.  

His photo ID has no face but pictures both regret and righteousness. 

So fold it up and place in your back pocket, but forget that it reads first name: "your," last name: "conscience."

(that's a dis)

He's just hopeless, not homeless. 

Realize you won't miss noise, just people, 

And crayons mashed into the sidewalk are art. 

Know that scars are just scars, they heal with time

And the stars are magnificent. 

Broken bells, raw nerves, and broken dreams are one in the same because when you hit them they scream.

It's hardest to believe in yourself

It's hard to believe our life is to be enjoyed

In between dreams we sleep throughwatch them go. 

Our duty to God awaits

Should I write in free verse or blank verse?

Take a step back, don't worry the static. 

We hate to see them leave but, love to 

Because a poem is just emotion in a story

Don't think about how it sounds

To those around. 

I promise you this 

If what you write is real then Someone will feel. 

It is then that your poem has found fulfillment, Opened eyes to feel, hearts to see 

I know this is true because it's done so for me. 

My Childhood Was A Dream

This one is for nostalgia,
I'm standing here to give my childhood memories a voice.
But first off, know I was a child who had night terrors.

I remember waking up to the fear of my basement.
I remember waking up to being stuck in a dream,
terrified because I was still condemned
to an Oregon coastline saltwater taffy store,
fleeing on a moving circular conveyor belt
from a cheetah hot on my heels.

I remember struggling at the bottom of my stairs
to find the courage to face the shrieking masked figure to my left.
And I could move about as fast as a fly in honey.

I remember when the kid next door became a werewolf.
My pet rabbits' fur was ravished across the front gate.
The moon was full, and I'd never seen it sicker.
Polluted and sagging, it emitted a dying street lamp hue
that bruised the light vacuumed night sky.
Atmosphere sucked away my shallow breaths,
and compressed my smothered lungs.
I couldn't tell if the noise my bare feet made on the cool,
dew strewn grass was muffling the silent sulker's steps.
But I was outside,
and I knew he was coming for me.

I was also a dolphin,
swimming through an untouched mountain lake.
Water slithered and streamlined across my leathered back.
It flexed with my kicks into an arch
and crested into the chilled mountain air.
My feet had evolved into a tail that began
to kick to the rhythm of my soaring spirit.

My mind would then drift into flight
and carry me through my neighborhood.
Sometimes mental effort could lift my body like the lost boys
into a sky that was too blue to be true.
Eventually my mind would seep into the realization
that none of this was real.
So I admired it that much more.
Walking would never
fill the need to feel a thrill,
and only flying would prove to me
in the pale 5 O' clock light,
that Timp was the most beautiful thing out there.

I remember a hill behind my house
that was covered in
some footprints of kids two grades older than us
that we thought were gangsters,
dirt that got in our shoes,
waist-high weeds,
holes we dug,
forts we made,
shovels we lost,
dinner shouts from mother dearest,
and views of Utah lake smeared in oily sunsets.

You see, this last dream was my favorite,
because I actually lived it.

And don't we all float through this dream called
childhood?

I Think I've Found It...

We occasionally catch a glimpse of it.
This thing called life.
I've found it in a song, in a sunset, and a sonnet.
If there is one thing I know it's this:

Life is beauty.

It's when life gets hard, we see the beauty.
It never tires of reminding you.
I was drowning in calculus,
derivatives swam in my head,
my heart pumped pressure through my veins,
my body walked to his car,
my eyes lifted to the sky,

then I saw it.

I saw the sunset.
Glowing, dying orange, splotched the fading,
night approaching sky.
As the mountains shrank in reverent respect
I learned perfect beauty becomes visible,
when life becomes harder.

I write the purpose of life
because life has a purpose.
Life is a smile,
life is growth,
life is discovery,
life is rediscovery,
life is daydreaming,
life is vitality,
life is breathtakingly beautiful.
Life is beauty, and I'll write for her.

Life is the ideal
I life for.
I am Walter Mitty.