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Epigraph:
Mendicant Bashar, transcription from Journal, July 15, 1992-October 13, 1994, page 183ff:
Get away from me world of get and gain,
Master & servant,
The chosen of the damned of a faulty covenant.
Let me humble myself before my follies,
Laugh at my vanities
While I hone the edge of my nature.
Mendicant Bashar, the Oratorio
Come now We, Mendicants Bashar,
Time worn and wary,
Well schooled in the long lies of our cultural imperatives.
Suffer the children to come unto us, traitorous prophets,
Full with venom for our deceivers,
Strong in medicine to set the soul soaring.
Come now We, Mendicants Bashar,
Let us try you with our gaze,
Turn your ear to our lips.
We will whisper to you of renunciation,
Behind the baptismal fount,
Beyond holy orders,
Abed with the “Virgin”,
At the table with Jesus.
Dash your guilt upon a stone & leave penance for the unfulfilled & fearful.
Be confirmed in yourself & what you feel & know out of the wilderness of your Mind.
Our unction is extreme indeed,
Need ye be unbejuggled.
Ha!
You shy away.
Why fear ye an old friars humble in the eyes from much seeing, long pondering?
Are you not here seeking, then tell me about your nervous laugh,
& what are you looking for over your shoulder?
If you are here, you have come too far to find your way back to the lies that seemed to make your life safe but robbed you of your soul,
Left your spirit barren.
Cold comes over us now, bare in the face of winter.
I as one, stare through crystalline panes of icy glass into rooms warm and cozy,
Snug in superficiality and wonder over the price to pay for truth and freedom.
Come, hold your body close to mine & warm me though I know I may drive you from me with my divine madness.
Perhaps if we endure the winter it may be given us to share the spring in Eden,
Even knowing the apple that follows the bloom.
But, no…
We’re sullied in love as it’s imagined.
We needs be removed to tell the tale truly,
Realization, Self…
Returns now self esteem as mendicants bashar in cloak with staff & lantern,
Waiting for our voice to come,
Out of the darkness,
Out of the mire.
Many are now watching,
A straight gaze out of the fire of our yearning shows the keepers and the kept,
The awake and the sleeping,
The complacent & the seeking.
Know this, seekers,
You are far more than you may know,
The others far less than they seem.
Come, gather ’round this glow,
Spark to your tinder.
Take this key to the closet,
So, to join the quest,
Take up your staff & lantern.
We come now, mendicants bashar,
We’ve been made unwitting demon beasts unleashed upon a wounded Earth,
We children of “culture”,
Twisted, arrogant, creatures of market & media, delusions of comfort & convenience,
Spirit gone to get and gain.
Save the children,
Save the People,
Save the Earth.
Say nay to the mimic men riding high on our backs,
Know them by their color,
They are gray,
The untangling of the riddle of our bondage,
Down, down, down, the root of our souls,
Without conditions.
Meet us on the other side of Eden,
Pagan Self intact,
Our place on Earth made right again,
Grounded in our Selves,
Loved,
Unspoiled,
Beyond christian guilt and shame.
Tethers to the realm,
Friends in high places,
Pillars of the church,
Judges in robes,
Chieftains of a misguided artifice.
We but suppose ourselves kept as a point of view,
See though, what we think we have has us,
Slaves of misconception,
Dumb, in the dark,
Deaf but for the din,
Junkies in That Dream,
Casualties of empire.
They, those, have tied us in a knot, season on season,all conscious time,
In the name of Christ.
Minds tied to metaphors,
Swing low “sweet chariot”, a death wish in lieu of freedom.
Before edicts & decrees, the apostles’ creed become law,
Become empire,
There was but the knick of time,
So is, but for a change of mind.
We, apostates, love ourselves,
We live in the spirit World,
Love Mother Earth.
A Place Among All Creatures
A Place Among All Creatures
A place among all creatures, all things,
Tenure, sojourn, a responsibility each to each,
All to each, each to all,
Unspecified adulation, reverence,
Primal, Pagan,
Else is artifice and offense to all, to each.
Who do I think I am, we are?
Whence came and borne on a history and inherited belief,
Know this or not, carrying that to our tomorrows,
Burdened by the injustice of our “fathers” believe it or not,
Despite the Bluebirds’ song, the tides rising and falling,
Yesterdays’ memories,
Our place, our time,
Your time…your time!
Despite children laughing, playing, singing,
Yet,
The burden of onward christian soldiers.
Turn the tale, turn the tide.
Talking heads sowing confusion, nickel and dime,
Clear enough how we got here and who’s icing the cake,
Let them eat cake,
Turn the tale, turn the tide,
No matter the bills get paid, the world in ruin.
Lies begetting lies…
Turn the upside down,
Turn the tale, turn the tide.
Every evening now about the gloaming, the sound of gunfire through the ancient trees, the silver moss swaying in the breeze.
Santa Helena, what am I to think,
Friendly fire?
Neighbors by proximity, not as tribe, the tribes long gone,
Bought and sold in ever smaller pieces,
Hole in one, ring around the rosie,
Lines on a map, property and profit.
Turn the tale, turn the tide,
Say nay to the mimic men,
Know them by their color, they are gray.
Beyond imagining extinction, the birds are falling from the sky,
The fish are drowning in poison rivers.
Oh, but it’s so pretty up at the lake, down at the shore,
A picnic of plenty,
Rock of ages, swing low sweet chariot,
A death wish in lieu of freedom,
We, you, me, the last to know, the first to go.
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