Introspection & Meditation

  This is the last poem I found. It was among some letters my Mom had kept. It's a poem Joel wrote to my parents at some point before my Dad died in 2006. Looking back at my life And all that I have lost, The years of constant strife, Tears and pain with great cost   Experience has taught The skill of how to “see,” What I have and have not, And the cost of what’s “free”   Now in church, where I’m faced With all that I have now, My God’s Blessings and Grace, Harvest where I didn’t plow   From my Heart, I now share My gratitude for what you do, And just how much I care, I thank God for both of you   ~ by Joel Purkerson

  This one he wrote for my Dad, because of a joke he made to Joel about not hurting his daughter -- he joked that he had "a gun and a shovel," so Joel better treat me right!  A Cowboy Came A Courtin’ As I pulled up to the house, an old cowboy leaned on the fence. Should a known what was comin’ but I always did lack good sense. Saw steel inn his eyes, iron will in the set of his jaw; Measurin’ me with those eyes, I knew he didn’t like what he saw.   A prayer on my lips, cowboy hat in my hand, I swallowed my fear ‘Fore my first step, he spoke, “I know who ya are. Know why ya’ here. I’ll tell ya straight off, I’m an old cowboy with little to lose. I got a gun and a shovel to bury you, if I so chose! My little girl’s been hurt enough by men the likes of you. I’m telling you now, leave her be. Now what are you gonna do?”   “Well, Sir,” says I, “I’ll tell ya what all I have come to know. Jesus Christ’s my Lord, so with all due respect to you, ...

  Joel wrote this for me. There is word play in the last stanza, in his choice of the word 'elegant' referencing my name, Ellen, and also in his reference to 'Pearl White Lilies,' as my middle name means pearl. The Garden (A Story About the Buds and the Boys) In my Father’s house is a garden, wherein are planted His most precious and cherished flowers. Each one is worth more than a king’s ransom in His eyes.   By His hand alone are they nourished and cared for, until their delicate and wondrously hued petals are ready to blossom forth and reveal the beauty hidden within.   While growing up, my brothers and I would play in His garden, in direct disobedience. We trampled, broke and bruised more flowers than we could count, but there were still so many countless others, we didn’t care about the pain and damage we caused. Weeds and thorns sprouted up and we were torn and cut. In our anger, we defiantly trampled even more, deliberately ripping and tearing off the p...

  One of Joel's dreams growing up was to join the military. He did join the Army National Guard when he was 19, after working really hard to lose enough weight to meet the requirements. But he ended up breaking a bone in his leg right at the end of training, and wasn't able to finish the final PT test, so he wasn't allowed to complete his term of enlistment. Not being allowed to serve his country broke his heart, and was one of the things he regretted most during his life. But he turned his passion for all things military towards being a prayer warrior instead. He wrote this before we met. Follow Me   I am the infantry I am my Lord’s weapon of war Through Him I will attain peace I am the heart of the fight Wherever and whenever I carry my Lord’s faith and honor before me Against the enemy We are victorious in battle   I am what my Lord trains me to be The best trained and most dangerous soldier in the world In the race for heaven I am swift ...

  This poem was written as a tribute to Joel's parents, for the years they spent praying for their children. The Unsung Soldier (Based on Eph. 6:13-18)   Soldiers are known by the uniforms they wear Battles they fought by the scars that they bear Their courage and valor by the medals on their chests Their bravery and sacrifice praised by those they protect   The foe that was slain laid to rest in a grave In death they are honored for the life they gave Centuries of conflicts evident for all to see The blood that they shed written down in our history   But there exists in this world a soldier unknown by most Camouflaged in humility with no desire to boast Battle after battle faithfully they fight Alone on their knees in the still silence of the night   Their tears never seen, cries of pain never heard Their victories unknown, they bear it all without a word With a smile on their lips and kind word on their tongue Hidden sc...

  This poem was written about a year before Joel and I met. It's about his struggle with pornography, which he dealt with for many years. Chains 31 years from the day of my birth A grown man now of stature and girth The world lies before me, ripe for the taking Tied down by my past, but the chains are breaking   One chain for me is impossible to crack One chain unbroken, still holding me back A chain I could not escape, it felt so nice Filled my body with heat, but my heart with ice   Soft, colors, curves, and curls, enticing to watch My undying shame, my hand in my crotch Celluloid girls, numbering tens of thousands Imprisoned by the pleasure to my very male glands   Addictions the same, no matter the cause Freedom is 12 steps away, just follow God’s laws Victory is at hand, my God’s grace I made it Don’t give up on me, He’s not done yet.   ~ by Joel Purkerson

  Another poem Joel wrote several years before we met. Windows   It’s long been told, Women’s eyes are the windows of their hearts   While young and old, The eyes of good men reflect depth of soul   Thoughts of your eyes, And what I will find in them while we are apart   Hope never dies, Waiting for that special day my heart’s goal   A thousand tears Fallen from this man’s eyes while I wait   A million fears, Crushed under the weight of my hope   One day we’ll meet, Look in each other’s eyes, ‘tis our fate   Passion and heat Found in each other’s embrace, touch, and grope   Exchange of vows On the day of our wedding, faithful love   I’ll wait for now, In prayer and preparation till you are found   Your eyes will show A safe haven for my heart, hand in glove   My eyes you’ll know, By the reflection of love turned around ~ by Joel Purkerson

  Joel spent the next few years trying to find help, and was finally getting some treatment for his mental problems, although it wouldn't be until after we married in 2001 that he would finally get a confirmed diagnosis of schizophrenia. In the meantime, he spent countless hours reading and researching, trying to find help for himself, since the mental health system was not doing its job. He wrote this poem several years before we met, looking to the future, when he might find the person he was meant to be with. The Faithful Promise When I was young, as I talked to God, I looked up at the sky Counting the stars that He made as each night went by   Then as a man looking for mine, I found to my dismay The star that God gave me was missing, and is to this day   A black spot in the heavens where it is supposed to be I’ll feel incomplete till I find it, that star belongs to me   I ran crying to God and asked Him to help me in my plight “My son, worry...

  Another poem dealing with his mental torment.  Mask All my life I’ve worn a mask, as an automatic habit Living with a predator, but inside I was a timid rabbit   Weak and vulnerable, I lived in fear under a disguise Pain after pain, I buried myself under a mountain of lies   Year after year, beaten and bruised till deceit became real Harden my heart; hurt ‘em first till anger was all I could feel   Couldn’t tell who I was, so I showed the world who I wasn’t No escape from the blows of his hand or the cuts from a sharp tongue Broken heart and beaten down spirit, glazed over eyes of the young   Day after day, food for the predator, living in Hell Trusting no one, no love to give, a turtle without a shell   My scarred remains laid down before a cross Born again with a sword and shield, saved by Jesus my new Boss   Forgiven but not forgotten, I know the nature of the beast in man New confidence without fear ...

  Joel wrote this poem after a VERY brief marriage to a girl he met and fell in love with in 1996. I think he told me the marriage only lasted a few weeks, if that. His mental illness was still not being addressed. First Love, First Light   My world was darkness, no knowledge of light Warmed by a sun of isolation, to me it was bright Comfortable coldness, no knowledge of heat The blindest kind of person you ever would meet.   Daylight brilliantly dawns, senses shockingly awaken A soft hand in mine, now I’m neither alone nor forsaken Days of joy and laughter, dizzying heights of passionate love Tingling in their embrace, like I was in Heaven above.   A shadow crosses my face, awareness flashes through my mind The bleakness of my past – I was cold, lonely, and blind With reckless abandon, and absolute devotion From innocent trust and overwhelming emotion.   I expected nothing but good at the hands of my lover Our future together, ...

Joel was raised as a Christian, attending Christian school until he graduated from high school. But he chose to pursue other paths in life. I think because of his undiagnosed mental illness, he became obsessed with a lot of dark things - like stalking his neighborhood in camo with a loaded weapon, wanting to become a sniper (as he put it, because it seemed like a good idea at the time), getting involved in a gang - just to name a few things. He told me that he spent his youth trying to hold a pitchfork in one hand and a Bible in the other. This poem reflects his mental torment as he tried to break free from all that. Haunting Truth   What do you hear within silence? What do you see when you close your eyes? Where do you run when you turn on yourself? Each night in the dark I sit feeling detached. Then it begins – haunted by truth Overwhelmed by the silence ringing in my ears   Battles rage in the middle of my mind Insatiable hungers stalk my heart Insidio...

  The next poem was written at the end of his relationship with someone he'd been with for several years, the mother of his son. He had been dealing with undiagnosed mental illness through most of their relationship, and went it ended, it devastated him. Obsession Rejected! Torn apart! Thrown into despair’s dark hole!   The wounding of my heart, the bleeding of my soul Infernal obsession, fueled by darkest desires Mind’s eye vision Filling me with consuming fire   Blind eyes stare inward Break into a cold sweat You smile to yourself and mutter “She’s only testing you; I’ll get her back yet!”   ~ by Joel Purkerson    Written during a dark time, as his way of dealing with betrayal and emotional pain.

  Joel wrote this poem before we met. He struggled with horrible nightmares for most of his life, starting in adolescence, because of his mental illness. Occasionally, he'd still have them, if he skipped any of his medication.  The Haunting Past   The pain of your past haunts your nights Filling up your mind with horrible sights ‘Tis a ghastly realm of madness and fear Whom will you embrace, as panic draws near? A nightmarish world of torture and pain Lay forged together, the links of a chain Your body lies bound, and so is your heart While unwelcome dreams rip your mind apart!   What is it you see, when you close your eyes What phantoms frighten, vex, and terrorize Sweet sanity – you swore you’ll keep! But not as long as you’re terrified to sleep!   You wake up screaming, every – single – night With tightly clenched fists, ready for a fight With your heart pounding, and dripping cold sweat You sit gasping for breath in sheets...

  Joel considered this poem to be a self-portrait. He wrote it in the midst of dealing with mental  illness, before we met. Mirror Enduring eternal isolation within the eye of the storm, ‘Tis an indiscernible tempest! Turbulent emotions are the essence and meditations the form My bridled affections distending outward within a starving heart, ‘Tis my soul’s unbearable burden! Love’s liberation an imperative …lest it rend my life apart   Life’s unseen voyeur behind prison windows, condemned at conception, ‘Tis lonely life behind these blue eyes! Oxygen deprivation birth, survived with a damaged connection   From catacombs within the mountain my identity’s projected, ‘Tis deep beneath the surface that I live! Through subterranean distortions, I am opaquely reflected   With silence-borne clarity come well-meaning forms of eloquent wit, ‘Tis with pen in hand wherefore I speak! An authentic array of my essence, displayed in poetic writ   ~ by Joel Purkerson ...

 Since Joel died, I've been going through old letters and notebooks. I've found a bunch of poems that he wrote, and I want to share them with our friends and family. I'll be publishing them here.