Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Fast Day 297 February 10 2013 Mother of Patmos
Mother of Patmos
με την χαριν τησ παναγιασ
"Thanks to the Holy Virgin"
As the Greeks often say,
now and in the past,
along the blue Aegean where
sails the ship of John,
the island Patmos,
within the Icarian Sea
with its wax-concreted wings
that droop like shrouds -
the halyards of the artemon.
The name "panagia"
does not mean "virgin",
but "all holy".
As the ancient used to say,
before the birth of History,
when they sought the plumaged bird -
as one doth pursue and hunt
a partridge in the mountains -
the mother of Icarus,
son of wooden Daedalus;
holy land maritime...
O, navicula autem sum.
--
notes
με την χαριν τησ παναγιασ = Thanks to the Holy Virgin
navicula autem sum = I am but a small boat
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Fast Day 273 August 25 2012 {The Years of Toxic Sleep}}
The Years of Toxic Sleep
Naiads of the river nymphs of the bureaucracy,
dryads of the city-county and manticore of our lives,
sweet medicine of mandragora and poppy of Cyprus:
O, the sleep of Reason!
Religions of wahhabi bulldozers, running on
delusional diesel of 'Uzza, Lat, and Manat, spreading
toxic water and damming aquifers, torturing aqueducts:
O, the sleep of Faith!
Feet quick to spill blood, feet slow to pilgrimage:
ferriers and blacksmiths who deform the holy word
between hammer of their soul and anvil of their own desires.
O, let the mu'ezzin cry:
O, believers!
Sleep is better than this Freedom!
--
written as intolerant hard-liners attack Sufi mosques and shrines in Libya.
again, they are urged on by our "friends", the Saudis.
muezzin - the caller to prayer a Turkish form.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Fast Day 263 June 17 2012 {On The Road Again}
The Early Path
On The Road Again
When the
brothers and the sisters, having
heard that Paul
was back, back, back in town
they ran
down the road to the Three Taverns
which was
the venue for the camp meeting,
where I was
a roadie and got scale:
United in a
bond of common faith
we lived in
peace and love and harmony:
no
distinctions of power or fortune,
in the days
of heavy metal martyrdom;
and I set up
the amplifiers.
I drive the
bus… I’ve been the head roadie
since the
band split up and the elder James
stayed in
Jerusalem the Memorious;
Paul now plays reggae in Illyricium,
and
breeds Friday eve confusion.
No canned
heat and no coke to wash away
this growing
season of tombs and monuments,
that disturb
our dreams and forget the great
times – like
Ovid in his sorry exile:
back when
all had wicked chops!
--
notes
Saint Paul is the focus
Ovid - the poet who was sent into exile somewhere on the Black Sea coast
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Fast Day 217 July 30 2011 {Broken Statues}
Broken Statues
holy child with broken arm,
please keep me away from harm,
as far away as you were close
to bleeding head and broken nose,
victim of man
help me if you can!
sweet bambino on holy card,
victims of exploding shards!
divinity of spattered ink,
keep me from the fears I think
from my tomorrow,
road of sorrow!
Mary, jogger on bloody feet,
walking barefoot on the street
in the night of early dawn;
apocalypse decathalon,
now in training,
dark and raining.
oil discovering crucifix,
wellspring of our politics,
keep the candles til the end,
obscured,unlit, and never spend;
geology's
doxologies.
Joseph of the chipped paint,
father, carpenter, and saint
joiner with wooden pins,
let Him now forgive our sins;
treaty our days
in heaven's ways.
who will be the alpha saint
to cudgel us, box, and feint;
leading unruly canonized
in their daily exercise:
for fool's gold
our souls are sold.
little babe with broken nose,
broken arm and missing toes,
dropped upon my bedroom floor
soon to be killed hardcore:
the end of Lent,
all Passion spent.
--
notes
The religious icons of my childhood come pouring forth in a time of discord. I have a statue with a broken arm and this is Nuestra Senora del Brazo Roto, and it is the arm of the Christ child that is broken.
My frame of mind in this week of Washington and Norway.
stanza 1
keep me as far away from harm as you were close to it; i.e., being beaten by the Roman soldiers, etc.
stanza 2
road of sorrow = via dolorosa, the route of the Cross carrying.
stanza 3
Mary was in training for pain from early on. Private and searing pain in the darkness.
stanza 4 crucifix
in the old days, people used to have crucifixes in their houses in which were stored the oil for the time of death and the candles to be lit at that time. The top of the crucifix slid back to uncover these things.
Politics of death and unlit candles, faith buried so deep that true belief (doxology) is only discoverable by deep geology through time.
stanza 5
St. Joseph,, father of Jesus.
treaty - make agreement between two things.
stanza 6
today... saints and men fighting to be the Alphas and beat their chests in holiness, yet beholden only to power and money and the currency of their unenlightened minds.
stanza 7
prayer to Jesus, soon to grow up and to be killed in the liturgical period of time after Lent and three days before Easter.
--
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Fast Day 216 July 23 2011 {The Price of Apples and Pears}
The Price of Apples and Pears
God was a good gardener
who knew the price of apples and pears
sold in Covent Garden,
planting a plantation full
of pippins in the county Eden
whose produce formed no small and unimportant part
of the economy of that remote district,
providing fruits for the markets and
making the heart-cheering local
liquors, cider and perry.
Pomological, we the world
are in debt to such a grand gardener;
who taught us soils for the borders of Eden
be light rich loam, friable and crumbling,
such as is met on old sheep-downs,
calculated to grow fine trees and husbandmen
sprung from small portions of
the hereditary deeply laid sands
that form the beaches of blessed
isles within the seas!
There is a season for all fruit
which germinate and wax under the sun:
avoiding extremes, flourishing
between sun and shade, wet and dry;
hardy apples, rich and sweet,
golden pears, sugary and perfumed, ripe and gritty;
berries cockscomb shaped with
pale scarlet flesh and cinnabar
thorns, autumnal bergamot;
all gathered in flat-bottomed baskets
plaited from fragrant reeds.
Earth is the forcing garden,
built of deal timber oleaginous
and filled with resin, disposed with
dovetail joints of paradise:
here we live our accidental lives,
our derangements, hermetically warmed by alembic
alchemy of atmospheric
moistures up and down:
fire above, ashes below;
soon buried in dry sand.
Heaven is a good fruit room
with seven levels of stacked shelves
where lay the apples and the pears
wrapped in dry straw or canvas.
We are all electrical attractions:
walnuts, pine apples, acorn-crested nonpareil,
free from injury by agency
of wasp or moth or ant,
nor flying birds frugivorous
and quadrupeds injurious.
--
perry - liquor made from pears
pomological - adjective of the science of fruit or fruit trees (pomus)
frugivorous - fruit eating
--
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Fast Day 194 February 19 2011 {On Talking to a Man from Maharahstra}
On Talking to a Man from Maharashtra about
the Body of St. Francis Xavier Preserved in Goa,
about Christians in India,
and about Sectarian Fighting.
there are days when you just need a drink,
and today is one of those:
kick-my-ass day,
snake-in-grass day;
and I don't drink...
a chocolate eating day.
there are days when you just need some love
and today is one of those:
bleed-my-heart day,
fall-apart day;
but I'm alone...
ginger-cinnamon day!
Nutmeg and ginger, cardamon, clove...
float on spring freshets in the river
past my private glass pavilion
in old-time Goa
upon the sea;
anise, cumin and marjoram, they embalmèd me...
I saw every sunrise... and sunset upon that sea!
It seems the world is so little changed
from my seafaring-gospel days,
I see no point to stay around
incorruptible
and totemic;
I seek now a funeral: be buried in the soil:
aphrodisyaks and curatives... turn to holy oil!
--
notes
St. Francis Xavier Jesuit missionary to the Far East. He was named Francisco de Jasso y Azpilicueta to a wealthy family in Navarre. He was a co-founder of the Jesuits with Ignatius de Loyola. In 1541, he left Lisbon to serve as missionary in the Portuguese colonies oversea. On 11 December 1553, Xavier's body was shipped to Goa. The body is now in the Basilica of Bom Jesus in Goa, where it was placed in a glass container encased in a silver casket on 2 December 1637.
It appears somewhat preserved, although by no means incorrupt.
This took me totally by surprise. It was the work of one fitful night and a morning.In our discussion about the body of St. Francis, we agreed that it might be best that he be at rest, no longer on display. Perhaps he is by now. I have not looked into it.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Fast Day 181 November 20 2010 {The Creation of Eve}
The Creation of Eve
The tale of love told from eternity
was more ancient than any other thing:
all things created were for purpose wise,
or the beauty that they bring.
The earth brought forth a silken bathrobe green,
as dewy saunas enriched the bowers;
and everywhere was the Platonic thought
of you, diadem cascade of flowers!
----
notes
The idea is the creation of Eve and her emergence from the antiquity of creation.
She comes forth from a sauna (hot-house gas earth of early times) more like Botticelli's Venus than the usual stories about her.
The Platonic thought is an ideal plan or form; here the form of Eve and all of the create universe was moved by the perfect thought.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Fast Day 175 October 8 2010 {Broken Statues in Ixmal}
Olmec Statue
Broken Statues in Ixmal
elephant glue wont bind the Christ child's arm
- the statue you broke -
wont even let the tyke
grow up, go to school and have a girl friend:
he weeps Olmec tears-
break his arm and repeat!
crucify him before he's old enough to vote!
do you accept Jesus as your saviour,
super-glue his arm
like your other bric-brac;
where compound fractures pierce his holy hide
and you are so starved
for holy lust and faith
you see a grilled cheese sandwich in His face!
Aztec gawd amighty, I do wish we
sent him off to war!
broken arm and all!
to disrupt a military fun'ral -
or even say that
faith would have saved Sodom,
which He said, just before we broke His arm!
We put that arm back on, but upside-down-
it looks a little
scarey, like a sleep
from Mayan hell of diarrheic gods;
what becomes of gods
broken by the children -
are tears the proper glue that binds God and man?
O, Brazo Roto! Ruega por nosotros!
-------
brazo roto broken arm
ruega por nosotros pray for us
diarrheic look it up and check the description of the lords of Xibalba!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Fast Day 166 6 Agosto 2010 {Noon Prayers}
Noon Prayers
Say,honey,have a margarita,
drink a little pulque,
drive with me a little way
until we reach the sea.
So let us toll the rosary;
five tequila mysteries:
trust the diligence of dunes
and discretion of the trees.
She says she does not drink at all,
she says she does not swim;
she left the molten city
so she will not stop for me.
Tres milagros de ma vida, tres...
deja mucho a desear,
travelers on a desert road
my car, the Virgin, and me.
note:
stanza 3 three miracles of my life, three/ there is still much to desire
odd prayer
Friday, August 14, 2009
Fast Day 115 August 14 2009 {Da}

Da
My grandfather came from his grave
sweat dripping from his hairy chest
taking great gulps of air as if
the air was Guiness on tap;
he stood in the rain and smiled
at me a smile so fair
and faery of enchantment - light
from amethyst eyes
and onyx finger joints
I gave
to him
my grandsire.
So it was ye who came a-singing
like a great powerful piper, Orpheus
and Cuchulain - give me but another
toke of whiskey's air
and find me one of Erin's fair
daughters - red headed with delirium
with green eyes
and ruby red finger nails
that I
will love
again, grandson!
My grandfather came from his grave
sweat dripping from his hairy chest
taking great gulps of air as if
the air was Guiness on tap;
he stood in the rain and smiled
at me a smile so fair
and faery of enchantment - light
from amethyst eyes
and onyx finger joints
I gave
to him
my grandsire.
So it was ye who came a-singing
like a great powerful piper, Orpheus
and Cuchulain - give me but another
toke of whiskey's air
and find me one of Erin's fair
daughters - red headed with delirium
with green eyes
and ruby red finger nails
that I
will love
again, grandson!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Fast Day 114 August 8 2009 {Kick-Ass Mary}

Kick-Ass Mary
How great the pain that pierced your heart,
Mother, when they raised Him on the cross;
ceaseless furrows of your tears record the
tsunami of your loss!
Hammer and spear, thorns and scourge,
all life from your soul did purge?
"My pain blinded everything else, I could not stand;
I admit that in my pain I cried a few
tears and screamed in my deep despair... softened
by the mound of stones I threw!
from Roman heads came blood, their cries attest:
'Get that Jew bitch! That Jewish terrorist!' "

notes:
the Virgin Mary is usually depicted as silently suffering during the passion of Jesus. However, she fought for her kids like a soldier, and drew the blood of killers. She still fights for us.
(as I explain in a comment, I tired of Mary being portrayed as Our Lady of Perpetual Victimization.)
Friday, July 31, 2009
Fast Day 113 July 31 2009 {Too Many Co]ats...

Too Many Coats, Too Many Colors
When I went to see the Lord Buddha,he was appearing in Denver,
so I walked one thousand miles -
and I thought, ah! I shall be as new and simple
as a new-born Amish, and wear a wide brimmed hat
and use no electricity
and ignore the internet
and salt my speech with words archaic...
When I went to see Jesus
he was fishing on the sea
so I walked the one thousand miles
and swam the last eleven, like an iron man competition
or triathlon, as young as when I was young indeed
and wore a Speedo
and acted selfless
and spoke in parables and shy smiles...
When I went to hear the Prophet,
and when I took a taxi
to Union Square to hear the Reb Akiva
I spoke Arabic and Hebrew like a real dākhil
standing by the Western wall or standing up above,
and wore a kafiya
as I strutted,
and a fine high shtreimel...
And when I arrived, I was too late.
Weighed down with the right clothes,
the correct ideas, and impostures of "holy" folk,
I had imperceptibly slowed to a crawl
as I dragged endless chains of beliefs
behind me across the desert,
raising a cloud of dust
into the sky,
as high,
as high,
as Hubble's high!

notes:
(Arab) dakhil: Arab citizen of Israel
shtreimel: a fur hat
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Fast Day 104 May 30 2009 {Miracle of the Loaves}

Miracle of the Loaves
I didn't expect pizza with
crazy bread, too -
too many carbs I think
but the doorbell rang, hot 'n ready
and there was delivery guy
with oven mitts,
a determined campanologist
he rang and rang until I came
to the door and asked what number
he was looking for?
and it was mine
but I had not ordered pizza,
and certainly
not pizza with more bread aside.
I shut
the door
and he started to change ring
Double Plain Bob Minor.
So I opened again, and it was
like an angel there, who said
and said yes, no pizza -
and there was no bread -
and I don't owe him nuthin'...
he wanted to mark the hours
at the monastery, when
I looked around, and I was indeed
before the refectory door, and
heard a lector reading.
So I said yes.
And today he rang Matins, Nones,
and Terce - and tomorrow,
and all our futures.
The pizza never gives out, and when
I turn quick like I see monks
running to hide themselves
within my pantry...but the
garlic bread replenishes itself:
strange miracle of the loaves.
© 2009
notes:
Matins, nones, and Terce = 3 of the daily prayers of the RC Church observed in monasteries.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Fast Day 103 May 23 2009 {Blind Michael and Sidi Mahmoud}
Blind Michael and Sidi Mahmoud
Before the shrine of Sidi Mahmoud
blind Michael sat,
forest clearing,
sunlight,
mountains of the Lebanon.
Each pilgrim dropped a coin
into his bowl;
alms-giving,
magnificent,
pleasing to God!
Blind Michael said thank you!
munificent one!
oh, prince of gold!
oh, daughter of grace!
father of beneficence!
But when Joey and I came with
our aunt to the Sidi Mahmoud shrine:
falling coins,
flashing sun,
grass green in a magic circle...
thanks, oh, young hero of the clash
of arms
and rider of the neighing of stallions!
That was to Joey, and my aunt did not
like that name,
never having known blind Michael to wax
so eloquent over alms.
Then the rest of our coins,
I let my small coin fall:
Oh, Madeed! thanks!
Madeed al Halm....
far dreamer!
dreamer of welfare,
dreamer of far away dreams!
falling through the air
to bless us,
poor,
blind,
homeless...
My aunt gathered us and ran
all the way down the mount
and locked us in
the house.
The neighbors ladies swam into
view, within their pools of tea
and gossiped about mad Michael
and what madness all was that?
But Joey to the war did go,
and heard the calls of horses
and the clash of arms;
and I became a dreamer...
and both of us had to die
before we found our tongues
within that bush of ghosts
that spreads far beyond the creek
at the bottom of the gully
beyond the meadow of our youth.
© 2009
notes:
Sidi Mahmoud = a man named Mahmoud at whose tomb prayers are answered.
before entering, coins are given as alms to the poor.
The poor man bestows blessings upon all who give alms, but my aunt thought he went overboard one summer, when we were visiting.
Madeed al halm = literally: stretched out or extended (of) dream. It is not an easy translation.
Before the shrine of Sidi Mahmoud
blind Michael sat,
forest clearing,
sunlight,
mountains of the Lebanon.
Each pilgrim dropped a coin
into his bowl;
alms-giving,
magnificent,
pleasing to God!
Blind Michael said thank you!
munificent one!
oh, prince of gold!
oh, daughter of grace!
father of beneficence!
But when Joey and I came with
our aunt to the Sidi Mahmoud shrine:
falling coins,
flashing sun,
grass green in a magic circle...
thanks, oh, young hero of the clash
of arms
and rider of the neighing of stallions!
That was to Joey, and my aunt did not
like that name,
never having known blind Michael to wax
so eloquent over alms.
Then the rest of our coins,
I let my small coin fall:
Oh, Madeed! thanks!
Madeed al Halm....
far dreamer!
dreamer of welfare,
dreamer of far away dreams!
falling through the air
to bless us,
poor,
blind,
homeless...
My aunt gathered us and ran
all the way down the mount
and locked us in
the house.
The neighbors ladies swam into
view, within their pools of tea
and gossiped about mad Michael
and what madness all was that?
But Joey to the war did go,
and heard the calls of horses
and the clash of arms;
and I became a dreamer...
and both of us had to die
before we found our tongues
within that bush of ghosts
that spreads far beyond the creek
at the bottom of the gully
beyond the meadow of our youth.
© 2009
notes:
Sidi Mahmoud = a man named Mahmoud at whose tomb prayers are answered.
before entering, coins are given as alms to the poor.
The poor man bestows blessings upon all who give alms, but my aunt thought he went overboard one summer, when we were visiting.
Madeed al halm = literally: stretched out or extended (of) dream. It is not an easy translation.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Fast Day 102 May 17 2009 {The Final Video}

The Final Video
when Aunt Serena passed away
she had a video eye sunk
within her memorial stone,
which played the flash video she
had made years before, to everyone
who visited her grave, like an
ancient mariner's tale:
hello, there! I am in Beulah
and free from all my worldly pain!
it went on and on to all who cared.
And after that I came to visit
and when I darked her grave, she said
hello, nephew! and I ran like sixty
'cause i knew there was no" nephew" in
that flash memory video em-
bedded in that memorial stone!
I sat a long time at the river
to see if it were truly cool
beneath the willow trees, but
I crept back to Serena's grave and
she welcomed me again!
she said the dead are come again
to help their kids in times of stress, there
is no cutting of the line of life, the
lines of nurture...and here they are!
all your ancestors standing by,
gathered by the river here,
whose name is "runner", and who
goes to the "great-water" nearby;
the first stand of poplars to our south
is the "wide-eyes-gang", and they are
"height", "crest", "great-lament", and "bends-in-wind".
Wow, I thought, does God almighty
have a name for everything, for every
blade of grass: stick, shoot, sharp, tib, and scrim!
You'd have to be nuts to remember them all!
And, she said, to the north, how truly grand
the pines; the first is "clotho" ,
"the spinner" of fate, who spins
the thread of mankind's days; and who gave
birth in time to the middle pine,
"lachesis", or "the tailor", who measures
the length of of every thread; then
the third tree "atropos" who cuts the thread,
"atropos": "who-will-not-turn-aside"
in any wind or urging.
She said all named beings would
spring to our defense.
But what could go wrong, my friend? thought I
Cousin Joey was getting prepared
to visit Phantom Fury in Falluja, but
that was like shooting fish
in a barrel of water, wasn't it?
Was it not 2004? What predatory drone
was there that sought us out, rich as we were
and immense as is our proud tradition?
What had been spun,
what had been measured,
and what will be cut? what suits of many-colors?
notes:
Beulah land = heaven
In ancient Greek mythology, the Fates were Clotho, who spun the thread of life, Lachesis who measured it, and Atropos who cut it.
Phantom Fury was the second and final battle of Falluja.
After all the talk of Falluja, you probably have never yet heard that it was anciently Pumbedita, which was the site of great Jewish learning and where the Babylonian Talmud was formed.
"The days grow hot, oh, Babylon! 'Tis cool beneath thy willow trees!"
when Aunt Serena passed away
she had a video eye sunk
within her memorial stone,
which played the flash video she
had made years before, to everyone
who visited her grave, like an
ancient mariner's tale:
hello, there! I am in Beulah
and free from all my worldly pain!
it went on and on to all who cared.
And after that I came to visit
and when I darked her grave, she said
hello, nephew! and I ran like sixty
'cause i knew there was no" nephew" in
that flash memory video em-
bedded in that memorial stone!
I sat a long time at the river
to see if it were truly cool
beneath the willow trees, but
I crept back to Serena's grave and
she welcomed me again!
she said the dead are come again
to help their kids in times of stress, there
is no cutting of the line of life, the
lines of nurture...and here they are!
all your ancestors standing by,
gathered by the river here,
whose name is "runner", and who
goes to the "great-water" nearby;
the first stand of poplars to our south
is the "wide-eyes-gang", and they are
"height", "crest", "great-lament", and "bends-in-wind".
Wow, I thought, does God almighty
have a name for everything, for every
blade of grass: stick, shoot, sharp, tib, and scrim!
You'd have to be nuts to remember them all!
And, she said, to the north, how truly grand
the pines; the first is "clotho" ,
"the spinner" of fate, who spins
the thread of mankind's days; and who gave
birth in time to the middle pine,
"lachesis", or "the tailor", who measures
the length of of every thread; then
the third tree "atropos" who cuts the thread,
"atropos": "who-will-not-turn-aside"
in any wind or urging.
She said all named beings would
spring to our defense.
But what could go wrong, my friend? thought I
Cousin Joey was getting prepared
to visit Phantom Fury in Falluja, but
that was like shooting fish
in a barrel of water, wasn't it?
Was it not 2004? What predatory drone
was there that sought us out, rich as we were
and immense as is our proud tradition?
What had been spun,
what had been measured,
and what will be cut? what suits of many-colors?
notes:
Beulah land = heaven
In ancient Greek mythology, the Fates were Clotho, who spun the thread of life, Lachesis who measured it, and Atropos who cut it.
Phantom Fury was the second and final battle of Falluja.
After all the talk of Falluja, you probably have never yet heard that it was anciently Pumbedita, which was the site of great Jewish learning and where the Babylonian Talmud was formed.
"The days grow hot, oh, Babylon! 'Tis cool beneath thy willow trees!"
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Reprint for Levine {Culinary Succoth}
This is a reprint from Oct 2008 for Mr. Levine, who asked that I reprint it, since he could not go back and find it himself. You may be familiar with Mr. Levine, whom I refer to as der Engel Levine - a reference to a Bernard Malamud short story.
As a reprint, it is not this week's poem.

Culinary Sukkoth
We had a gingerbread sukkah,
resplendent in design;
the gum drops were from Wal-Mart,
the inspiration, mine.
Our harvest was enormous,
of wheat and tares combined;
gathering in by hands full,
hushing them while we bind.
Some we threw in fire,
some we threw in graves;
some we cast on water,
and some in silos save.
Some we kept in sugar,
to keep and crystallize;
to roof it as our skach,
and eat it with our eyes!
As a reprint, it is not this week's poem.

Culinary Sukkoth
We had a gingerbread sukkah,
resplendent in design;
the gum drops were from Wal-Mart,
the inspiration, mine.
Our harvest was enormous,
of wheat and tares combined;
gathering in by hands full,
hushing them while we bind.
Some we threw in fire,
some we threw in graves;
some we cast on water,
and some in silos save.
Some we kept in sugar,
to keep and crystallize;
to roof it as our skach,
and eat it with our eyes!
Friday, May 1, 2009
Fast Day 100 May 1 2009 {May Day}

May Day
It's Lady Day again! Come Spring!
Come all ye patience handsel blooms!
Bring forcing gardens' flow'ring quince!
Bring hot house bulb and lilies, too!
Bring Holy Mary's crown again,
a flow'ring diadem - come Spring!
The cold and rains of April past;
come unnamed flowers all!
together with your namèd kin:
the rose, the daffodil, and pink,
and sweet those fragrant dandies in
the lawns so newly green;
this crown of May will last!
May God Almighty bless us all!
Conserve us safe from harm!
And all the Saints step forth! Attest!
conjoined in joyful choirs and lit-
anies assembling, breaking forth in song!
Pray save us from our Fall!
Mom Mary strides forth like Orpheus
and takes hell's subway ride
to stand beside her faithful folk
in Time's still darkling fields of War,
to nurse the bleeding, wounded souls to health;
restore the World to peace renown!
notes:
handsel
a gift or reward; here a reward for enduring winter; a Scots word, I believe.
Sometimes I use it with the sense of mitzvah, or a blessing: a divine reward.
It's Lady Day again! Come Spring!
Come all ye patience handsel blooms!
Bring forcing gardens' flow'ring quince!
Bring hot house bulb and lilies, too!
Bring Holy Mary's crown again,
a flow'ring diadem - come Spring!
The cold and rains of April past;
come unnamed flowers all!
together with your namèd kin:
the rose, the daffodil, and pink,
and sweet those fragrant dandies in
the lawns so newly green;
this crown of May will last!
May God Almighty bless us all!
Conserve us safe from harm!
And all the Saints step forth! Attest!
conjoined in joyful choirs and lit-
anies assembling, breaking forth in song!
Pray save us from our Fall!
Mom Mary strides forth like Orpheus
and takes hell's subway ride
to stand beside her faithful folk
in Time's still darkling fields of War,
to nurse the bleeding, wounded souls to health;
restore the World to peace renown!
notes:
handsel
a gift or reward; here a reward for enduring winter; a Scots word, I believe.
Sometimes I use it with the sense of mitzvah, or a blessing: a divine reward.
Orpheus
Orpheus descended even into Hades to rescue his beloved Eurydice.
So does Mary hazard all for her children.
The meter is odd and seems to change, the 5th lines lengthening in the last two stanzes.
I'm not sure why I did this. It's pretty much still hot from the oven, though.
Today I was helping my father with his gardening, a chore which he makes exhausting because the plan is in his head, but it comes out piece by piece, and there is a lot of walking about and talking about the ravages of winter, the harm the snow plows have done, the water level of the river, and so on.
So I have to pray for patience and humility, being by nature impatient and demanding.
While walking under the cherry tree, it dawned on me today was May Day. I stopped walking and he looked at me. He asked me what I was doing. I said I was praying to Our Lady, because it was May Day, and I had forgotten. I forget what the prayer was. I just stopped and prayed something or somehow - I don't really analyze it - then started back walking.
He is a church goer, but I don't think he's used to people suddenly stopping and praying.
When we had finished, I started to think about the poem for this week, and this came flying by - a handsel or reward for being a nice guy.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Fast Day 95 March 28 2009 {Intoxication}
Intoxication
Before Dionysos created wine,
before Gaia of the poppies
before Gaia of the poppies
gave dreams in Crete of intense delight,
your love was the intoxicant.
Before Apollo's sunbright beam,
before the flight of Eos, who
your love was the intoxicant.
Before Apollo's sunbright beam,
before the flight of Eos, who
shot arrows from a photonic quiver
your smile was the dawn.
Before the Sibyl's book.
before the Delphic sage,
your smile was the dawn.
Before the Sibyl's book.
before the Delphic sage,
and the sensuality of wisdom,
your touch was my intuition.
Before Atlantis sank,
before farthest Thule,
your touch was my intuition.
Before Atlantis sank,
before farthest Thule,
and caravans to Samarkand,
you were the unknown land!
you were the unknown land!
Before I drink the nectar-draught,
before I sing my endless ode,
once more a weary nomad trek
across your lovely threshhold!
notes:
Dionysos was the ancient god of wine;
ancient Crete had a goddess - whom I call Gaia - who wore a crown of poppy heads;
The Delphic sage was the ancient oracle of Apollo at Delphi;
Thule was Ultima Thule, the most far away in the world;
Friday, February 20, 2009
Fast Day 90 February 20 2009 {Najeemy and James}
Najeemy and James
Najeemy sits in the restaurant.
She is the only African there.
On either side sit Maha and Alice,
thin and white enough to be ivory
earrings on Najeemy's head.
James stays with the children
wearing basketball shoes with neon;
He puts his right hand to his narrow chest,
the armoire of his heart and its desires,
and says that he is honored to meet me.
Intense Jamaican smile.
She met him in Jamaica.
She had an all-night party and returned
to her hotel at dawn to see him nude
within the reflecting pool, washing
as if he owned the place!
Najeemy could not speak.
As he dried himself off, and began to dress,
the boney lightning began to fade from view,
joining the black uniformity of
Jamaica's daytime streets.
They married the same year.
Najeemy sits with us in Al Ameer's,
with me and Maha, Alice and Miss Basheer,
and talks about the age of days and stuff
but wants to be so Sunni!
But a Sunni Lady never
extends herself to shake hands; she withdraws
her hands to rest within the sanctuary
of her breast, hands washed and pure - fluttering
like fearful hummingbirds.
Najeemy yells from afar;
she runs across the street to pick you up
and hug you in her great embrace until
you both are panting and out of ev'ry breath!
forgetting Sunni etiquette!
>>>><<<<<
notes:
Najeemy ( not her real name ) is a ebullient African-American lady with whom I studied Arabic.
She loved to read, wrote love poetry, and read tea leaves - among other things.
At one time, she wanted to be a teacher at an Islamic Academy. The academy was Sunni. The basic split in Islam is between Sunnis - such as Saudis, Northern and Western Iraqis, Egyptians, etc. - and Shia - such as Southern Iraqis and Iranians.
Both are pretty conservative.
We would tell her that she would have to become very conservative, if she were to teach. No more reading tea leaves, which would be very much frowned upon as fortune-telling.
Najeemy sits in the restaurant.
She is the only African there.
On either side sit Maha and Alice,
thin and white enough to be ivory
earrings on Najeemy's head.
James stays with the children
wearing basketball shoes with neon;
He puts his right hand to his narrow chest,
the armoire of his heart and its desires,
and says that he is honored to meet me.
Intense Jamaican smile.
She met him in Jamaica.
She had an all-night party and returned
to her hotel at dawn to see him nude
within the reflecting pool, washing
as if he owned the place!
Najeemy could not speak.
As he dried himself off, and began to dress,
the boney lightning began to fade from view,
joining the black uniformity of
Jamaica's daytime streets.
They married the same year.
Najeemy sits with us in Al Ameer's,
with me and Maha, Alice and Miss Basheer,
and talks about the age of days and stuff
but wants to be so Sunni!
But a Sunni Lady never
extends herself to shake hands; she withdraws
her hands to rest within the sanctuary
of her breast, hands washed and pure - fluttering
like fearful hummingbirds.
Najeemy yells from afar;
she runs across the street to pick you up
and hug you in her great embrace until
you both are panting and out of ev'ry breath!
forgetting Sunni etiquette!
>>>><<<<<
notes:
Najeemy ( not her real name ) is a ebullient African-American lady with whom I studied Arabic.
She loved to read, wrote love poetry, and read tea leaves - among other things.
At one time, she wanted to be a teacher at an Islamic Academy. The academy was Sunni. The basic split in Islam is between Sunnis - such as Saudis, Northern and Western Iraqis, Egyptians, etc. - and Shia - such as Southern Iraqis and Iranians.
Both are pretty conservative.
We would tell her that she would have to become very conservative, if she were to teach. No more reading tea leaves, which would be very much frowned upon as fortune-telling.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Fast Day 72 October 18 2008 {Culinary Sukkoth}

Culinary Sukkoth
We had a gingerbread sukkah,
resplendent in design;
the gum drops were from Wal-Mart,
the inspiration, mine.
Our harvest was enormous,
of wheat and tares combined;
gathering in by hands full,
hushing them while we bind.
Some we threw in fire,
some we threw in graves;
some we cast on water,
and some in silos save.
Some we kept in sugar,
to keep and crystallize;
to roof it as our skach,
and eat it with our eyes!
We had a gingerbread sukkah,
resplendent in design;
the gum drops were from Wal-Mart,
the inspiration, mine.
Our harvest was enormous,
of wheat and tares combined;
gathering in by hands full,
hushing them while we bind.
Some we threw in fire,
some we threw in graves;
some we cast on water,
and some in silos save.
Some we kept in sugar,
to keep and crystallize;
to roof it as our skach,
and eat it with our eyes!
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