Month: April 2011

Alleluia

Alleluia

O virga mediatrix

sancta viscera tua mortem
superaverunt,
et venter tuus omnes
creaturas illuminavit
in pulchro flore de
suavissima integritate
clausi pudoris tui orto.

Alleluia.

Hildegard of Bingen: Alleluia, O virga mediatrix

—-

Our church was across from the train tracks and park on Florence Ave., a few blocks away from Market St. and Inglewood High School. We couldn’t go anywhere without driving by it. Our folks would do the cross thing every time. It was a perfectly white building for most of its history and then got switched to brown a few years before I left. That amuses me. The Jesus statue inside is still immaculate, though, as is the one of his Mother holding him when he was a baby. His wounds are probably freshened up with a coat of paint for Easter.

Alleluia

Alleluia

O virga mediatrix

sancta viscera tua mortem
superaverunt,
et venter tuus omnes
creaturas illuminavit
in pulchro flore de
suavissima integritate
clausi pudoris tui orto.

Alleluia.

Hildegard of Bingen: Alleluia, O virga mediatrix

—-

Our church was across from the train tracks and park on Florence Ave., a few blocks away from Market St. and Inglewood High School. We couldn’t go anywhere without driving by it. Our folks would do the cross thing every time. It was a perfectly white building for most of its history and then got switched to brown a few years before I left. That amuses me. The Jesus statue inside is still immaculate, though, as is the one of his Mother holding him when he was a baby. His wounds are probably freshened up with a coat of paint for Easter.

Showered up

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Showered up, walking around naked, waiting for laundry to finish.

As good a time as any to finally read/ogle Nanoka. Japan is a lot more interesting now.

thoughts of beasts

My mind wanders to thoughts of beasts—felines and canines. One, equipped for precise and sharply efficient kills. The other, reliant on power and strength of its jaw. The physiology of each engineered to successfully hunt, kill, and devour. A feline’s claws wait to unsheathe. The canine’s keen eye for the weak member of the herd keeps it patient. The muscles and sinews ripple and tear across fur and skin like rivers in the sands. Single points of light in the darkness. Grunts, growls, and yowls beneath the stars. Survival of the ones who run fastest, move hardest, and rend the most flesh from the bone. They who are worthiest of nourishment, and propagation of their most holy seed.

thoughts of beasts

My mind wanders to thoughts of beasts—felines and canines. One, equipped for precise and sharply efficient kills. The other, reliant on power and strength of its jaw. The physiology of each engineered to successfully hunt, kill, and devour. A feline’s claws wait to unsheathe. The canine’s keen eye for the weak member of the herd keeps it patient. The muscles and sinews ripple and tear across fur and skin like rivers in the sands. Single points of light in the darkness. Grunts, growls, and yowls beneath the stars. Survival of the ones who run fastest, move hardest, and rend the most flesh from the bone. They who are worthiest of nourishment, and propagation of their most holy seed.

holy

The word holy means something again. Holy, holy, holy… We can be holy, you and I. The spiritual realization is waiting. I am ready, but darlin’, are you?

holy

The word holy means something again. Holy, holy, holy… We can be holy, you and I. The spiritual realization is waiting. I am ready, but darlin’, are you?

The house is fallen

The house is fallen, they will say. The line is broken in spite of the three brothers who followed me out of our mother’s womb. One too frugal and bigoted, one too stubborn and conservative, one too lazy and indifferent. The house is fallen, the end is come. Our father’s passing will not bring a single tear to our mother’s eyes, our mother who taught how not to cry. And yet our father’s weak tear ducts make us human from time to time. In the end he will be buried in a local cemetery where no one else from our family lies, and where no one ever will for we will scatter and spread our willful seed across to other places on the map, each with their own cemeteries. When the house is fallen they will want to know where I am, where I have been, and in spite of all my learnings I will never have the words to say who it is I am and what it is I wanted. They will never know nor would they care to understand—the tearless mother, the pain-addled father, the brothers whose distance keeps them civil and far away. They cater to their pain, I cater to mine. When the house is fallen, there will be no one left.

The house is fallen

The house is fallen, they will say. The line is broken in spite of the three brothers who followed me out of our mother’s womb. One too frugal and bigoted, one too stubborn and conservative, one too lazy and indifferent. The house is fallen, the end is come. Our father’s passing will not bring a single tear to our mother’s eyes, our mother who taught how not to cry. And yet our father’s weak tear ducts make us human from time to time. In the end he will be buried in a local cemetery where no one else from our family lies, and where no one ever will for we will scatter and spread our willful seed across to other places on the map, each with their own cemeteries. When the house is fallen they will want to know where I am, where I have been, and in spite of all my learnings I will never have the words to say who it is I am and what it is I wanted. They will never know nor would they care to understand—the tearless mother, the pain-addled father, the brothers whose distance keeps them civil and far away. They cater to their pain, I cater to mine. When the house is fallen, there will be no one left.