Our need for Sanctuary:
Poetry is often a tool used to express ones inner most thoughts and emotions. Hip Hop is a culture of great influence in both fashion and music. What happens when you put the two together? That is exactly what The Sanctuary of my Solitude is. The Sanctuary of my Solitude is the perfect combination of well thought out lyrical practice and deeply personal interactions of inner turmoil.
The world that we live in is full of turmoil. The truth is we live in a wrecked world, a world full of destruction and corruption. Everyday day the occupants of this world deal with an assortment of pain, loneliness, addiction, a complete lack of hope. These areas of discomfort and disorganization of our hearts are caused by a variety of daily aspects. Some areas of hopelessness are self-afflicted, some areas of hopelessness are caused by friends and family, and some are caused by people that we don’t know. Regardless of the origin of the hopelessness, when people are faced with hopelessness they are often isolated from all forms of healthy community. When we find ourselves isolated from the community that keeps our faith healthy and strong, we are vulnerable. This isolation of hopelessness was where The Sanctuary of my Solitude was created and penned. The Sanctuary of my Solitude is a result of the isolation that is birthed from hopelessness with the hopes that the reader will be given the strength to endure their own hopelessness to once again find hope.
The name The Sanctuary of my Solitude comes from the need that we have to find a safe place, or a sanctuary, in our most difficult times. In our lowest times, we are often alone, in solitude, awaiting a safety net to save us in our time of need. Yet, in the moments of our solitude when we are in the lowest valleys of our lives, we discover a sanctuary in our own thoughts. Through that alone time we are able to discover our flaws and our mistakes, which leads us to learn from them and grow. In many occasions it is in our solitude that God reveals Himself to us and brings us to a place of safety.
Each piece that is featured in The Sanctuary tells a relatable tale of a young man’s journey through his faith. The poems depict the emotional ups and downs, the journey through early adulthood maneuvering through the college years; from discovering faith in Jesus Christ to dealing with personal doubts and recovering from a broken heart. A decade of Christian faith has been a sustaining force in the midst of both life’s struggles and triumphs.
The Purpose behind the Sanctuary:
Growing up in the middle of two families, I always had more questions than answers. I grew up unsure of who I was or who I was supposed to be. These questions quickly found their way into my poetry, which I usually wrote in the wee hours of the morning. The more I grew into my Christian faith, the more I learned, which means, the more I wrote.
Writing has been a God-given gift that promotes a creative atmosphere within me, which allows me to analyze and understand the intricacies of the human experience. Through this understanding, I created poems that the reader can read and relate to. The reader is given the privilege to journey through my lowest moments of depression until I reach my most joyful stages. The reader will be given the opportunity to step foot into my shoes, experiencing the world as I have seen it. They will experience the highs, the lows, the hopelessness, the faith and the strengths.
As the reader reads The Sanctuary, a new perspective will be presented through a variety of experiences that will expand their comprehension of the world around them. I am also able to provide a solution for the brokenness that lies within the poems. Through my relationship with Christ, I am able to demonstrate how God has used my experiences to form me and teach me to place my trust in Him.
Since the age of nineteen, I have had a personal relationship with God. As I transitioned through a variety of stages, I leaned on God for courage, strength and wisdom. As you read through the pages of The Sanctuary you will be given a glimpse into my most encouraging and powerful moments with God. You will also see me at the lowest points of my life, where my faith is tested and where my life seems useless. Lastly, the pages of this book will uplift you as you are able to relate to the words inscribed within.
This book allows me to share my trials and my tribulations in order to give the reader a glimpse into my life in hopes that they are able to relate to my struggles. While the reader learns about the God that has brought me to a place of healing through the pages of this book, the reader will also be able to think introspectively about their own trials. As the reader works through their own struggles, they can also develop a dependable relationship with God and find their own sanctuary. My hope is that through this journey, the reader will relate to the words throughout the poem and question their relationship with God.
A Glimpse into the Sanctuary:
“I know today is a new day, dreaming.
I know today is a new day now.
I know today I must face my demons.
I know today that I won't back down.
Because everyday it's your face I’m seeing.
Because everyday it's to you I bow.
Because everyday it's for truth I’m freeing.
Because you're the one who wears the crown now.”
-I Know Today (Page 16)
When you’re strengthened in your faith and you’re facing the hopeless that lingers in your life, you often need to face your own personal demons. Over the years, I have faced many of my negative aspects and my own personal demons. I pray that The Sanctuary of my Solitude will help you face your demons.
About the author:
Anthony Giesick is a lifetime Hip Hop fan and a poet and storyteller. He created and runs beautifulfeetentertainment.com, a place to share thoughts, ideas, and life lessons. He lives in Chandler, Arizona.
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For more writing from this author go to beautifulfeetentertainment.com
We met when I was just a child; nine or ten, I believe. I met her through my brother, who had become close friends with her. It was in that moment that I became obsessed. It was then that I fell in love with her.
The years went by. At first I thought that we were just friends. We would spend as much time together as we could, but our time was limited. But the more I saw her, the more I cared for her, the more I loved her.
She was beautiful. Even her flaws were beautiful. Her skin was rough from experience, but smooth under my fingertips. Her hair was knotted and dirty at times, but could clean up nicely. Her language, which was usually diced up with profanity, could become eloquent and polite when needed.
When I looked into her eyes, saw what others could not. I remember many times, I heard criticism from my father and other relatives. My mother didn’t mind her company; we all spoke together often. We talked of life, love, politics and society.
“How can you stand her?” My Aunt once asked me, “She’s so rude and impolite.”
I tried to defend our relationship, but no matter how I argued, she would not accept her. “I mean, have you heard the language she uses,” she spat. I had heard this argument before from my father many times before, and continue to hear it still.
“Everybody uses that language. You hear it everywhere,” I tried to explain, but once again my arguments fell on deaf ears. Usually these debates would end without resolution. Normally I would walk away leaving it unsettled, waiting until the day when the subject was again revisited.
Even though the criticisms had been staring me in the face, the thought of leaving her never entered my mind. I knew we were meant to be.
She may have been my soul mate, but we did not spend all of our time together. There were many times when I would meet another woman, and fall in love all over again.
I spent time with each woman, gaining a new appreciation for her character and behavior, but no matter how much love these women and I shared, I always returned to my first love. The other women were sufficient when I needed a taste of something new.
When I spent time with her I was never happier. I would sit in a chair listening to her every word as she read poetry from many thinkers. I was obsessed; I listened to her vivid words over and over again, making her repeat everything. Her every word and her every story put a colorful image in my head, an image of a world that I have not experienced; a world in which I could still relate. A world of outcasts and rejects to society, who are forced to live a life they are not proud of. A life they hope to change. I heard the words she spoke and the poets whose work she read and whose lives she would wrote about. I loved every minute with her and every word I heard her utter. I had to have more of her. I would look into her eyes as I listened to her words, seeing the passion that she shared with me.
As time went by, I started to write my own poems, hoping to one day write as her great poets had
written. I shared my written words with my love, hoping she would like them.
Time went by; I continued to perfect my skill. I hoped to one day take my art to its pinnacle. She and I spent hours together refining my craft. She taught me everything she knew and I was an eager student. Everything that I wrote I read to her, in attempts of gaining her approval and respect.
I introduced her to my friends, who quickly understood why I loved her. They grew fond of her as well, but the love between them never sparked like it did with her and me.
Now, years later, she and I are still very much in love. I spend the majority of my days with her, as she tells me the stories I’ve loved so much. I can express myself through her. We have both changed over the years, but have never lost our unique connection. Her name is Hip Hop. And she’s the love of my life.