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Mendicant Bashar, transcription from Journal,  July 15, 1992-October 13, 1994, page 183ff: (Bringer of Good News), and as revised…

 

Epigraph:

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,

     Mother 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. 

 

 

Addenda

Mendicants Bashar Addendum To The Script

 

Come,

      Come, yeah, and hear,

We sing now out of our Animal Selves,

     Of our tainted inheritance,

           Foul legacy, root and branch.

Not in our minds, and souls are we of our born origins,

     The westward curse of backward kristian soldiers…

 

We are  at war with the story of our origins,

     Ruination of Gaia in perpetuity,

          Theft in the name of property,

Sacrilege in the way of dominion…

 

Defilement…

     She can take it back,

           She will take it back,

We , coming  back, savage,

     We  will take it back, children of Gaia,

           Vitalists, unsettlers…

 

In native guise,

     Ojibwa, Anishinabeg,

Rising out of the graves of the Pequot,

Chippewa, Saulteux,  Nippsing, oji-Cree,

     Council of Three Fires,

            Odawa, Potawatomi,

Iron Confederacy,

      Cree, Assiniboine, Metis,

 

There is no death, only change,

      Midewin, keepers of the tribes,

Ojibwa, Pequot,

Sing your name, rise your tribe,

Rise the violated tribes…

This land of missed opportunity…

     Of theft.

 

Begin, the end of empire,

     Rise Gaia after the fall,

Rise.

     Gaia,

            She can take it back,

She will take it back…

 

We are at war with the story of our origins,

     Kristianity, imperialism,

So, to tell, to sing the real gone story,

     The way to take it back for Gaia,

           To rise the tribes,

Kiss the Earth.

Eat the rich.

Take it back.

 

From the crux,

     Cain and Able,

          From then,

The Fertile Crescent,

A retelling of the myth of our origins,

    To begin anew…

 

Back to the Garden,

     Resurrection, us, we,

Natural humankind,

     Adam before the Fall,

One with the animals,

     Before the fiction of property,

           Dominion unto kings,

No borders, only Earth,

 

Gaia, that One,

     All One,

One with the animals,

     One with the Earth,

Gaia.

 

Hear this,

Hear this,

     Be this,

We can take it back,

     We will take it back.

 

Gaia.

 

Anew,

     Apart,

Of our own making,

Survivors of the worn out deceptions of our origins,

     That Genesis,

Begin again away from there…

 

Of this we sing,

     A new world apart.

 

Rising above the fiction of borders,

      Church and state,

The fiction of “yours” and “mine”,

     In the name of ours,

           As primal beings,

After the fall…

Do you feel it coming?

 

Worn down weary by the story of our origins spoon fed as infants,

     By the curse of get and gain,

The way laid by kings and queens,

The curse of the church.

 

Church ahead of kristian soldiers

     Swords in hand,

         Agents of empires.

Curse the church first…

 

At war with the story of our origins,

      Curse the church first…

 

Take it back a piece at a time,

     Nook and cranny,

          Empty wood lot,

                 Back of the ally,

With furred and feathered creatures,

As One.

 

Teepee and wegiwa,

      Take it back, savage…

 

What to save,

      What to throw away…

 

Curse the church first.