A Sackcloth Savior

Mary, My Virgin Mother, pray for me, always


For all those people who suffer from low self esteem. For all those people who feel no one will every marry or love them.


--------/Sackcloth Savior : The Gerasenes Pt. 1 - The Thoughts Of Legion

Of course I recognize the voices of demons
I hear and internalize them every night
they are
the howl of the wind the thunderclap in the torrential rains as
Im powerfully poured on and pilloried. me pitiable,
just above my head lightning pulverizes the ground
razes the tree before it
lying on my side, right cheek in the mud groaning, the growl and grimace
and barking of the wolf circling hair behind its neck erect
the scowl of the owl suspecting limitations
of my survival
they are self doubts, echoes of detrimental detractors divvying up
dreadful demeaning descriptions of my worth forever false
but it sticks
that no woman could ever love me, inordinately weird
too timid, too passive, too poor for a princess pleased only
by pampering, they say Im more Ahab than David
that my dad never loved me which is why he drew up divorce
deigned fatherhood frivolous
handing my mom a certificate of my abandonment
endlessly alone, her shivering sobs. my heart forever shattered
my adolescence carrying her pain sullen
it is this crippling illness that wont leave me
you see
these iron chains they affix to my wrists every week are not binding
(so I rip them away disgusted by the disregard)
prideful pharisaic pedagogues pedaling piercing philosophies
put them on me oblivious to pragmatism, that my pain
is only physical and playful
the chains that bind me are the harrowing hallucinations that
drive any man away from himself:
there is no hope, life is not worth living unwanted
or that I uniquely deserve whimsical torment. frustration
at life's perceived lack of fairness but these
foolish fiends dont understand
that tombs are a refuge for those who wish they were dead
that sharp stones are a precipitous portal to the netherworld
for those that cut their arms and legs
for those crying out for relief from afflictions, aggrieved
begging for help from the opposite side of the sea
from someone who understands
that a disheveled man squandering away all he has ever savored
ever held sacred - now scared and shaking all the time -
does not need sophistry or spectacular acts of suppression
to sate him
by a team of shallow men not strong with shackles
he needs a savior
who can stare into his soul and from the world suture
the slash marks left him as scars settle his shrilled screaming
savagery
someone to set him free (to love him and give him security
self esteem
so he can walk back home to restore his mother
from strained worrying and sustained shamefulness)
from the sabotage of Satan, from demons who tell him
sinisterly, that his fate is now nothing but
and will be nothing eternally save
sackcloth
and ashes




-----------Mark 5:1-10
They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes. And when Jesus had stepped out of the boat, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit. He lived among the tombs. And no one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain, for he had often been bound with shackles and chains, but he wrenched the chains apart, and he broke the shackles in pieces. No one had the strength to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always crying out and cutting himself with stones. And when he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and fell down before him. And crying out with a loud voice, he said, "What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me." For he was saying to him, "Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!" And Jesus asked him, "What is your name?" He replied, "My name is Legion, for we are many." And he begged him earnestly not to send them out of the country.