Desperately, he seeks approval

For removal of his helplessness

Yet incredulous, he can’t accept

That he won’t be swept under your rug

A hug might be the spark plug

The caffeine in his coffee mug

The first shovel that has ever dug

Into his drug addled heart




(this was gonna be four lines, but they were running a buy one get one free special, so you get eight)



Four Lines

You may have noticed that I’ve been posting a some very brief four line poems lately. The first one was silly yet sincere, the second sincere yet silly. The third, just posted, is less silly.

I think I’m going to adopt these four line poems as a writing discipline for myself. Something to serve as a bare minimum of practice to write every day. It’s something to both challenge me and be fun. I’ll, of course, continue to write other stuff, but if you know me, what I need most is discipline to write something everyday. So there it is.

I don’t claim they’re any good; they’ll probably mostly be unimpressive, but at the same time, less can be more. I hope you’ll enjoy them for what they are. Even if you don’t, that’s plenty ok too. I will be tagging them all as “Four Lines”



As with the last post, I’m again posting a reading of a poem. I hope you’ll enjoy it. It’s part self-criticism, part making crappy ideas work for me. It’s a reflection of frustration with being unable to come up with unoriginal thoughts and then kind of saying, well, if that’s all I’ve got to work with, let’s do this anyway.

As with the last post, I’m again posting a reading of a poem. I hope you’ll enjoy it. It’s part self-criticism, part making crappy ideas work for me. It’s a reflection of frustration with being unable to come up with unoriginal



From the rising of the sun

To the setting of the same

I will fill my poem

With plethora of cliché

I’ll be preachy with my wording

Throw my beliefs in your face

When you’re bad, I feel better

Who needs tact or grace?

Or perhaps I’ll tell you about my motherland

And how I miss it so

But I’ve never actually been there

And really, I hate the snow.

I could tell about the tribulations

Of what it means to be a writer

While I live in privilege

And pain is one all-nighter

I could write of adolescent love

Convince you that it’s real

Teach you it’s a feeling

A heartbeat and sex appeal.

I could write some lines of politics

I’m sure that I’d be right

Thousands of years of man’s problems

I’ve solved them in one night.

I know it all sounds cynical

But I assure you it is not.

I want my words to make a difference

But clichés are all I’ve got



(c) 2011

Joshua Murray

Migh as well post

Anyway… I used to post almost every day…. and then I only started posting things that I thought could be perceived as interesting. And then I posted when I had time and was inspired (which amounts to lining up the planets).

But alas, I’ll post regardless, because seriously… why not?

Anyway. I’m sitting here listening to music from someone you’ve never heard (well, except for you, Micah…). They’re Between Faith and Thought… check ’em out here:

I’ve decided to start running in a meager attempt to get into shape… it seems that my lungs are more out of shape than my legs.

It seems that I’ll be going out to Arizona at the end of this month and through the first week of July to work on my flight instructor’s license (CFI). It’s actually been a struggle for me to decide if this is really something I want to do. I do enjoy flying and I enjoy teaching, but still, there’s just something that’s kept me apprehensive. Perhaps I’m just crazy.

Last night I was messaged, somewhat randomly, to see if I wanted to be a GA… now that would novel. I’d actually like to do that, but I have no idea if it’s even practical really… I’m already committed to being a an RA, and if I get my CFI I’ll want to take on at least one or two students to stay sharp… but still, it’s something that really intrigues me.

So, after finishing Catch-22 (finally), finishing Why Churches Die (again, finally), starting A Clockwork Orange, and reading Haggai (all last night after I got tired of playing mindnumbing video games)… and some dwelling on music that inspires me, I’ve got a poem/song in the works for the first time in what seems like forever. If I get the lyrics finished, I’ll post them. Since I can’t really write music, the only way for me to keep the melody in memory would be to create a rough recording of me singing the melody in my head, so perhaps someday, I’ll be able to turn it into a real song.

Random thoughts. Minimal segues, but that’s where I am for the moment.