Sunday, October 4, 2009

Strange people, these Christians

So, I went to a church today, willingly, for the first time in God knows how long.
Sure, part of it was that I had given my word to someone that I'd go, but I could have wormed myself out of it somehow. But I didn't feel inclined to. I woke up, refreshed, showered and headed to that place on Paredes.
And I told myself, at best, I'll gain a new understanding for how these people, who are ideologically different from me, interact.
At worst, I'd still gain a new understanding for how people who are ideologically different from me, interacted.
So I left my prejudices at the door and went in.
And overall, I liked it.
(Now, my Catholic brethren reading this, don't panic, I have no intentions of ever leaving the Church. ... Not that it should matter, anyways, I'm a progressive catholic with universalistic humanist tendencies--but that's a story for another day)
What I liked the most about the service was that people prayed.
Like, not running around screaming and crying like a small, small part of me would have thought they did, but praying. Interacting with the pastor, singing, praying.
It wasn't the mechanical lip service some of us are guilty of in our proper Catholic churches, at least the ones I've been around recently.
In either case, it was a pleasant experience. I foresee I'll have some political differences with them in the long run, but for now, I'm glad my first time there was a good experience.

And on that note, a funny thing I should mention was that the parable discussed in the service was about The Prodigal son :o


Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Dining with Cortés

Dining with Cortés
there's no telling what could happen next
one minute you're there
next you're on the floor
Dining with Cortés

Dining with Cortés
life's a test
one day to the next
instant win instant lose
Dining with Cortés

Dining with Cortés
switch, check
like lambs to the slaughter
beady-eyed and welcoming
Dining with Cortés

Dining with Cortés
No one saw it coming
the greeks bared gifts
opening the gates to Troy
Dining with Cortés

Dining with Cortés
this is our end
and our beginning
for God gold and glory
Dining with Cortés

Dining with Cortés
enjoying our last meal

Vigil Solstice

emotional detachment
aggrandizing and agonizing
internal engines
self-sustaining reactor
looking for the eastern shore
lonely are the glorious
the fallen princes
mechanical souls
priests, glorious in their sin
wrought by iron hands
we were born to dance
make the world of flesh our own
become the leaders of men
once human now we're half as so
made bettr and made worse
first born, then made
emperors in our own rights and minds
machines should not speak for men
but men should not speak for God
we are the middle ground
we are the glorious

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Natural Euphoria II

(sequel to that poem I wrote many moons ago)

Late night, I'm still yearning
things have changed since then
the innocence of childhood is gone
murdered one January morning
hypothermia set in
But still I dream of you
of holding your hand
my lips brushing yours
bodies pressed tight against each other
you're older now
we both are
matured by the fires of industry
aged in barrels of wine and flesh
our future seems clearer now
you turn back and smile at me
and we both take that step into the light
your laughter rings in my ears
we're not perfect
far from it
but in our imperfections
we are perfect for each other
two wayward and whole souls
lost in our own worlds and
touriss in the real world
your beauty a shimmer
that tears the fabric of reality
and leaves this princes breathless
paralyzed, immobile in your glow
a beautiful torture,
natural euphoria.
late night, and I'm still yearning...

Monday, September 21, 2009

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Alpha/Omega on a Wednesday

chemical torches restricted
our minds and hearts
a black soul addicted
to empty handed arts
serene moonlight
the dark enfilade
no telling wrong from right
fall of the axe blade
save me from the logic


our glorious imperfection
sacred number six
mechanical satisfaction
twisted sin's beginning
ebb and flow of a red tide
metal blades ringing
as our man dies inside
in the rain of a thousand flames