The Today Show w Tony Conti (and Lazarus) Pt 5!!!!!

[The setting: 10AM, Thursday. The studios of the Today Show, main interview stage. A medley of robust camera men ferrying large video cameras and all of their associated equipment, replete with long thick power cords trailing them that have caused quite a number of unsuspecting staff to stumble in the past, encircle the stage. Today’s feature segment spotlights an interview between Matt Lauer and two guests of the show: Tony Conti, who has visited the set numerous times and first time participant, Lazarus from the Bible. The three men sit on plush chestnut colored couches facing each other.  The streets of Times Square, and more specifically the revelers with greeting signs and boisterous chanting directly behind the couches, seen clearly through the immaculately polished glass window panes set a festive mood for the viewing audience at home watching on their TV sets.]

 [A Cameraman gestures to Matt using his fingers to indicate, in descending order, the seconds left until the show will be broadcast live. Lazarus, a bit fidgety, eagerly awaits his opportunity to share his story with the world]

 Matt: …..AAAAAANNNNNNNDDDD WE’RE BACK!!!! Good morning everyone. As promised before the break, I am accompanied live in the studio by Lazarus….no last name provided….a man, who by his own admission, and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention corroborated by Biblical accounts, was incredibly...and I might say indelibly...raised from the dead after being buried!  And, for some reason that lout Tony Conti is sitting before me as well. (Speaking under his breath): I certainly have an axe to grind with management on this one….I cant stand this jerk….I better be getting big bucks! if they want me back next year….

 Tony (straining to hear the garble of Matt’s words masked in soft tones): WHATS THAT MATT??!!! GOT SOMETHING TO SAY BI**H !!!???? YOU WANT A PIECE OF THIS???!!!

[Tony’s cursing is censored by an audible chime from the studio]

 Lazarus (looking at Tony uneasily): ……………

[Matt Lauer stands and begins to take off his jacket in preparation of lunging at Tony. Security from the show rushes in. The show promptly cuts to commercial as the director of the show issues both Tony and Matt a stern warning not to ruin the special segment with their divisiveness. Matt sits back down and puts his coat on and again waits for the cue from the camera man to begin the interview for the TV audience.]

 Matt: …….sorry ladies and gentlemen, forgive my guest Tony here for ruining the last segment.

[Tony swiftly stands up and reaches in his pocket to grab something to throw at Matt’s head]

 Today Show Director (off camera but still able to be heard on set and by the TV audience): NO!!! TONY NO!!!!!!

[Tony sits down and composes himself]

 Lazarus (a bit agitated): ….uhhh….can….can I speak now?

 Matt (blushing): sure….(chuckling nervously)….sure yes. (clearing his throat)…now tell us…..what did it feel like to be raised from the dead!!!??? (Matt raises his tone in excitement)

 Lazarus (beaming with joy): …..Oh Matt it was amazing. It honestly felt like a long sleep. All of a sudden Im walking out the tomb! Unbelievable. I remember being sick before but….

 Tony (interrupting): ….w…wa..wait.  Now wait a minute. I gotta call bull…excuse…me…I gotta call you out on that man. YOU WANT ME TO BELIEVE YOU WAS DEAD….AND NOW YOU ALIVE……ALL BY YOURSELF??? COME ON NAH……WHAT YOU WORK FOR ANTI-AGING COMPANIES OR SOMETHING???? YOU WORK FOR GARNIER??......NEGRO PLEASE!!!!

 Matt (incensed at the crass talk and fearful the interview might devolve): …I warn you Tony….now our viewing audience knows all about that beat down I gave you last time…..

 Tony (feeling threatened and provoked. With a churlish grin):…..what????

 Matt (deadpan): you heard me quite clearly

Tony: Don’t make me buss you upside yo head Matt….DONT MAKE ME BUSS YOU UPSIDE YO HED!!!!

 Matt (twitching and jittery): try me…..NIGGA IN PARIS!!!!

[Tony jumps on Matt which causes the two to fall backwards in the chair, knocking it to the ground. Security immediately separates the two whilst the show again cuts to commercial break. Matt swings at Tony but misses as security pulls them into opposite corners of the room. Security has been directed to hold Tony and Matt for the last few minutes of the segment. Cameras roll with Lazarus sitting alone]

Lazarus (looking directly at camera)…….Im sorry, audience, if I didn’t get to go into all the details of my testimony. But if I could distill my story down into one or two salient points… I would say – trust Jesus. He raised me from the bleakest and most dismal circumstances giving a real and tangible face to the resurrection of hopes and dreams. If you have anything youre struggling with….financial troubles….sickness…..lack of romantic vitality…..dont give up. Trust in Jesus. He can make dead dreams live again….wounds heal….He can make the impossible possible. Just believe. Just believe and get on your knees and seek Him. ….pausing. (John 11)

 Today Show Director: …AAAAANNNNDDD CUT!!!!

[Cameramen shuffle and focus on the anchor desk with Al Roker and Carson Daly]

 Al: …..wow! Powerful testimony and ….(laughing) awesome UFC style banter guys!!!.......

 

Raised

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I am the resurrection and the life - John 11:25


----------------/The Thoughts of Lazarus Raised

When I was sick, acute pain of the liver, I fancied myself a ghost
I’d close my eyes and just walk around Bethany,
meandering even lingering at the places I held most dear.
I suspected I would never see those places again.
The temple, the market, the dirt roads facing North
on which I and comrades of my youth mused, secretly,
led to the Roman coliseum where we’d be gladiators,
conquerors of Caesar’s occupation,
thickening stench on all the land, only we Jews could smell.
“Lazarus beheaded a centurion:” so we wished
oblivious to the centurion of fallen humanity, my head currently in his lap,
draggled, sword drawn, bright beaming tip of finality
dazzling as it refracts light from the sun.
When I came to in bed, I would scan the walls
rotting wood that my lampstand matured into over the years,
this totem of human frailty, the burlap bags for the surplus harvest
slung in the shadowy corner of the room beneath the windowsill.
The gentle wind on my pained chest like angels’ breathing.

Everything’s different now. The sentimentality for ghosts -all gone,
displaced by precious predilections for savoring the present,
the incessant kissing from Mary and Martha,
the tears on Jesus’ face, bemused expressions on crowds
who flanked my tomb to give death a final salute for me,
like an embrace of Time from which I cant disengage. 
Its nebulous…but I think I recall dying, the haze
of the unknown and the bright light guiding me,
birthing canal of Spirit, attendant midwives of Destiny
awaiting. Yet now that Im back, the paradigm of the dead
and of dying
has invariably shifted. I no longer approximate death as lack of breath,
but rather refusal of belief,
that we’ve run out of things to resurrect,
the stubborn insistence that each day there are no people, or dreams,
or goals worth cherishing and cleaving to;
That there isn’t a little bit of Bethany in all of us
begging to be called forth from tombs of despair.

-------------------John 11:40-44
Jesus said to her, “Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?” Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead man was lying. And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me.  And I know that You always hear Me, but because of the people who are standing by I said this, that they may believe that You sent Me.”  Now when He had said these things, He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!”  And he who had died came out bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Loose him, and let him go.”

Three Kings Convene

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[The setting:  The craggy apogee of the most disquieting mountain in Galilee, best known for its steep inclines and treacherous, narrow and winding paths heavily laden with thistles and thorns. This, also, is a sanctum for the most depraved and jaded wild birds and beasts with fierce and most unwelcome dispositions. Tony, Jesus and Satan sit on three large rocks directly facing Jerusalem’s temple hewn exquisitely by Satan especially for this occasion. Wolves skulk shrewdly behind various shrubs on the more level parts of the crest, between uneven frazzled patches of grass. Gentle breezes blow intermittently on this balmy twilit evening. The setting sun behind the mountain casts long shadows on the valley below  of the three men, evoking a gallant, almost grandiose effect on the dialectic at hand.]

Satan (cutting an ill-boding stare at Tony): So Gentlemen….
[Satan’s words and voice have an involuntarily, almost compulsorily, sinister and chilling tone to them, which is not lost on Jesus]

Satan: ….what exactly are we doing here? This mountain, this expanse below us…what is it all to us….three of the ruling class….three….GODS

Jesus: There is but one God

Tony: …dawg….man you be tripping with your dramatic voice dawg. Why don’t you tone it down a bit son, and keep it real my man? Nah mean my ni**a????

Satan [sneering]:….(clearing his throat)…..ahem!!...very well gents, well let me cut right to the chase….I have a proposition for you two….

Tony: …….word???!!!! YOU GOT A PREPOSITION FOR US??? You mean…in relation to the mountain we be standing on son??? THAT’S COOL SON. DATS DOPE….I NEVER MIND NO GRAMMAR LESSON….ESPECIALLY FROM THE BIG SATAN-DAWG HIMSELF….ANGEL OF DARKNESS SON-SON!!!...Can I call you Stan for short? It makes me feel less….stigmatized you know?...so anyway what preposition you talking about….underneath…..wait wait….or even……above????
[Satan raises his hand to strike Tony but Jesus sternly, but silently rebuffs him]

Satan [highly agitated on the verge of distress]:….no….you bit…ahem….you human…..ahem……I said proposition, not preposition…

Tony [staring blankly]:….OHHHHHHH!!! MY BAD DAWG….!!!!! YOU SAID PROP-OSITION!!!! OHHHHH WOOOORDDDDD!!!! My bad son. My bad blood. My bad gangstaaaaaaa!!! Which reminds me to ask….if you are Satan, you are like Hell’s true gangsta right?? STRAIGHT  OG RIGHT!!!!
[Satan cringes at the mention of Hell but maintains his deadpan expression]

Satan: …I want to offer you the world….money, shapely, submissive women, and limitless power.

Tony [wide-eyed] :……..adeep…adeeep…..adeep…..THAT SOUNDS GREEEEAAAAATTTT!!!! I WANT A GIRL SO BAD SON!!!! OOOOOOO!!! OOOOOOOO!!!!! WHERE DOES A NI**A LIKE ME SIGN UP FOR THAT SHII....
[Jesus stands up to reprimand Tony for his language]

Tony [scared]:….. THAT STUFF….MY BAD SON OF GOD, MY BAD!!!!

Satan [smiling slyly]: ……only one condition……bow down before me. Worship me, the world and your flesh forever. Become indulgent, hedonistic. Bow before your every worldly carnal desire….worship your every lust. If you do….EVERY WOMAN YOU COULD EVER WANT WILL BE YOURS TONY

Tony [looking sheepishly at Jesus]:………….GULP!!!.........UMMMMMM….WELL………….

King Of This World

* dedicated to Bring Me The Horizon, The House of Wolves
http://youtu.be/i7GgT2NnGKk

Again, the devil took Him up on an exceedingly high mountain, and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory.  And he said to Him, “All these things I will give You if You will fall down and worship me.” Matthew 4:8-9


-----------------------/King of this World

What does Satan require of us? The Prince of Darkness perched
on a high mountain like an inverted throne,
(god of our world coronated - our lusts chanting live long)
the irony of the subversion of power and the haughty perspective
it breeds, beckons bread from stone.
And what is our desert, if not our patience stolen by bread.
Forty days of testing proving grounds for survival
of our decorum, of our sanity, of our welfare
(our normalcy)
threatened not by howling wolves of prey seeking us
seething with anger at their own abject hunger pangs
but the wolves within us,
the howling discontent, the bloodlust for adultery and pornography.
Provocation by subtlety, seduction by misguided charm.
And so jail will forge ahead to converge upon our paths
marching steadfast and hastily, death too soon, sepulchers too sudden
our families rent
as we dash our feet against stones
decrying the angels of conscience we defied atop the pinnacles
of our own egos bartering with fate we purportedly control
but in the end know little to nothing of.
Monarch of deception- propagating poverty as power
promiscuity as pride’s progeny
aborting fetuses but birthing children of damned self esteems
imploring us to grasp his ankles and feel the pulse of shrewd blood
pulsing through his feet…he pronounces above us power limitless
breath of hell bristling hairs on napes.
And so I, a citizen of sexual perversion, bankruptcy and envy
remunerate
in taxes, in regret, years lost
tumbleweeds receding in the horizon, quickly forgotten
rather than walk forty days trusting righteousness and purity.
in a Good God who wont let his servants fall;
We'd be stronger and happier in the end.



-----The House of Wolves, Lyrics
Show me a sign, show me a reason to give,
 A solitary f* about your god damn beliefs
 I'm going blind, but one thing's clear
 Death is the only salvation you'll feel

Brick by brick by brick
 Brick by brick by brick

 What you call faith, I call a sorry excuse
 Cloak and daggers murder the truth
 The bitter taste, there's nothing else
 I'll bow for your king when he shows himself

 Brick by brick by brick
 These walls begin to cave in
 The house of wolves you built
 Whispers in a thousand tongues
 Show me your face, show me a reason to think,
 My soul can be saved if I sell you my sins
 I'm going blind, but one thing's clear
 Death is the only salvation for me

 Brick by brick by brick
 These walls begin to cave in
 The house of wolves you built
 Whispers in a thousand tongues
 (The house of wolves you built)
 (The nest of wolves you built)
 The house of wolves you built
 Will burn just like a thousand suns
 When you die, the only kingdom you'll see
 Is 2 foot wide and 6 foot deep
 Yeah!
 And when you die, the only kingdom you'll see
 Is 2 foot wide and 6 foot deep
 And when you die, the only kingdom you'll see
 Is 2 foot wide and 6 foot deep, oh!

 Brick by brick by brick
 Brick by brick by brick
 Brick by brick by brick
 These walls begin to cave in
 The house of wolves you built
 Whispers in a thousand tongues
 Brick by brick by brick
 These walls begin to cave in
 The house of wolves you built
 Will burn just like a thousand suns
 You said you want me
 Now I'm here, now I'm here, now I'm here
 You said you want me
 Now I'm here, now I'm here, now I'm here 

Ann H. - To My Salt Princess (For never and never)

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*dedicated to Chiodos, Intensity in Ten Cities
http://youtu.be/xDIPD7mEjxQ  ----> click dat link yall
* dedicated to Ann H*

-----------------/Salt

Your smile is to me, like Sodom;
Curly blonde hair, blue eyes and that infectious feint amiable laugh:
scabbed (wounded by deep discontent), leprous, lecherous men 
intent on carnage – rape of the innocent, slaughtering the righteous.
You have breasts that could set any man’s heart ablaze
like fire from the sky
like brimstone engulfing everything on the ground,
my scorching passion. Gomorrah.
When I first laid eyes on you, migrating from the tents of Abraham
the security of girls less breathtaking,
the safety of the loneliness I’d come to relish,
I knew judgment was drawing near.
But caution and prudence tried to preserve me from pain –
two angels full of compassion – buffers against distressing emotions,
those craven men who yell your repudiation
mobs howling your disavowals and refusals to my lunch invitations
wholly craven and banging on the door of my self esteem
savagely (Like a dilapidated hut set in the wrong part of town).
And of course I was the fool, as I offered my best for your worst,
my eyes of desperation and fawning, two virgin daughters
in exchange for your callous disregard of my feelings, macabre defilement
of fake salutations and warm pleasantries exchanged,
the loss of all my dignity in a crass town with no dignity to speak of.
I wouldn’t listen to the angels. They attempted to coerce me away from you,
my addiction, my coveted white-girl goddess whose presence feels like
the sweetest intoxication, indulgence and hedonism.
If your disdain is torture I am a misguided nephew of masochism.
When we are set to cross paths, every instinct within tells me to run,
“Get up, get out of this place” Tony….for Ann will destroy this city.
I could flee to the plains, you know, to other girls who don’t captivate
or safe havens of other activity to try and heal,
Zoar, a city in the middle of the desert plains quiet and listless and anonymous
with no love.
Now, every time we pass each other in the hall....
it feels like Im wrenching my arms from angels’ hands
sending them to God empty handed
to turn my gaze back on a city full of my fantasies that no longer exists,
one that turned to salt long ago.

(And maybe I have too.....)

[OH ANN, WHY WONT YOU DATE ME? WHY DO YOU SMILE AT ME BUT IT MEANS NOTHING????]

--------------Genesis 19:12-26
Then the men said to Lot, “Have you anyone else here? Son-in-law, your sons, your daughters, and whomever you have in the city—take them out of this place!  For we will destroy this place, because the outcry against them has grown great before the face of the Lord, and the Lord has sent us to destroy it.”  So Lot went out and spoke to his sons-in-law, who had married his daughters, and said, “Get up, get out of this place; for the Lord will destroy this city!” But to his sons-in-law he seemed to be joking. When the morning dawned, the angels urged Lot to hurry, saying, “Arise, take your wife and your two daughters who are here, lest you be consumed in the punishment of the city.”  And while he lingered, the men took hold of his hand, his wife’s hand, and the hands of his two daughters, the Lord being merciful to him, and they brought him out and set him outside the city.  So it came to pass, when they had brought them outside, that he said, “Escape for your life! Do not look behind you nor stay anywhere in the plain. Escape to the mountains, lest you be destroyed.” Then Lot said to them, “Please, no, my lords!   Indeed now, your servant has found favor in your sight, and you have increased your mercy which you have shown me by saving my life; but I cannot escape to the mountains, lest some evil overtake me and I die.  See now, this city is near enough to flee to, and it is a little one; please let me escape there (is it not a little one?) and my soul shall live.” And he said to him, “See, I have favored you concerning this thing also, in that I will not overthrow this city for which you have spoken.  Hurry, escape there. For I cannot do anything until you arrive there.” Therefore the name of the city was called Zoar. The sun had risen upon the earth when Lot entered Zoar.  Then the Lord rained brimstone and fire on Sodom and Gomorrah, from the Lord out of the heavens.  So He overthrew those cities, all the plain, all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground. But his wife looked back behind him, and she became a pillar of salt.

--------Intensity In Ten Cities Lyrics

I'm not the one that you want, I'll only let you down.
 And I'm pretty sure that you've caught on.
 And you can say that 'Oh, I'm just feeling sorry for my...'
 I think it's every time I walk into a room
 a silence so sudden that I seem to hear it
 (Smiles turn to frowns)
 Contact saying that you are the rain on their parade.
 And how long could you hang on to a word?
 Tell me, how long could you hang on to a word?
 I'm not the one that you want, I'll only let you down.
 And I'm pretty sure that you've caught on.
 And you can say that 'Oh, I'm just feeling sorry for myself'
 Or maybe it's all eyes on him
 in love with ego and intention
 the eyes that are just begging me for more.
 This is gone and I can see it
 your head is full of words,
 full of words that don't mean anything.
 And how long could you hang on to a word?
 Tell me, how long could you hang on to a word?
 I'm not the one that you want, I'll always let you down.
 And I'm pretty sure that you've caught on.
 And you can say that 'Oh, I'm just feeling sorry for myself'
 I'm not the one that you want, I'll always let you down.
 And I'm pretty sure that you've caught on.
 And you can say that 'Oh, I'm just feeling sorry for myself'
 (If that's how you feel, then what's there to do?
 I'll keep this feeling in my heart
 but when you look in my eyes, you will know the truth.) 

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Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. - Matthew 5:13

Pisgah (Cuz Im 14 years older than her)

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 * dedicated to Touche Amore, Method Act and Condolences
http://youtu.be/ezGmEjx5baI
http://youtu.be/uW42cXVzttI

[19 year old girl, this is so difficult for me to unmask, to unmoor my reservations about its public perception.  But what choice have I? I am smitten….. But…have I disobeyed the divine social more? Have I struck the rock of impetuousness….?]


-------------/Pisgah

When we first met,
(courtyard of the Pharaoh*: a soul jaded, heart 14 years a slave
-to singleness-
my sandals smattered in blood of past romantic ambition strafed,
like old friends in Israel laying limp, their bodies over time decaying
mostly covered in sand, fingers half clasping at my ankles;
Egyptian task masters black and white young and old – hardened
girls giddily brandishing braided chords of spurning,
whips and beating
punching, starvation and cruelty, torturing me in their rejection
aghast that my desires to date them would grow to outnumber their excuses
in the land….)
you were just a notion. 
I never dared conceive an 18 year old girl named Canaan, 
emancipation from the drudgery of females my own age,
their bad attitudes like rotting fish in my tent, curdled milk of diseased goats
hurled from afar from taskmasters as cynics
a Hebrew people groaning for death rather than compromise….
traded in for the joy
of a land flowing with milk and honey of your coveted companionship
**** eyes.
My passion for you is like 10 plagues of an angry God
my embrace like hoards of frogs and lice in food and hair
my kiss like boils ravaging smooth skin
my devotion to you like thunder and lightning and pitch black
my hands caressing your face at our wedding
the angel of death killing the firstborn
smirks
OF EVERY GIRL WHO EVER HURT ME. BECAUSE IT DOESN’T MATTER ANYMORE
BECAUSE I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER.

But our age difference feels like aimless vagrant wandering,
40 years a patchwork mob murmuring.
On the good days
waiting for you is a cloud  of mere inconvenience by day
and pillar of unrequited amicable fire by night but on others
its meat chock full of worms,
squirming out the nostril of my patience,
thousands of dead men strewn out in one day.

And I feel like greater society would be like
“speak to the rock of her 20 something heart and wait at Kadesh”
in 10 years gushing water of appreciation and experience will issue forth
with maturity.
But I don’t want to wait. I cant. I hate Egypt and this aftertaste
has lingered way too long,
scars of being unwanted taking too long to scab.
I WILL HIT THIS ROCK OF OPPORTUNITY NOW AND TELL YOU OF MY LOVE.
I WILL TELL THE FACEBOOK WORLD OF MY LOVE NOW!!!!
Drink you dumb society drink
Drink you dumb decorum drink
I am 14 years older than her so what? (My intention like a staff.)

But like that vengeful deafening silence between enemies
gazing at hearts of stone, Pharaoh at mine, and mine at his
Hell’s double entendre,
Deep down inside I know all I will get from you is Pisgah
pleasantries and cordiality and dreams of Canaan,
but I will die looking at you
never inheriting the land

* Tyrant of a man’s desolation and perpetual loneliness without a wife and family

----------Deuteronomy 34:1-6
And Moses went up from the plains of Moab unto the mountain of Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, that is over against Jericho. And the Lord shewed him all the land of Gilead, unto Dan, And all Naphtali, and the land of Ephraim, and Manasseh, and all the land of Judah, unto the utmost sea, And the south, and the plain of the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees, unto Zoar. And the Lord said unto him, This is the land which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, saying, I will give it unto thy seed: I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither. So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Bethpeor: but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.

Numbers 20:11-12
And Moses lifted up his hand, and with his rod he smote the rock twice: and the water came out abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their beasts also. And the Lord spake unto Moses and Aaron, Because ye believed me not, to sanctify me in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them.


--------Method Act Lyrics
Don't ask me why
 Have you ever wondered why I always drive alone?
 Same reasons why I never pick up my phone
 I got these issues that you can't subscribe
 And I'm scared to talk to anyone for what they might prescribe
 These days I just try to keep to myself
 well aware I've lost touch with everyone else
 I understand that I'm fading away
 I'd rather play dead than play catch up
 Because no one really cares all that much
 I can't keep having the same conversations
 I look to the floor to keep concentration
 focused hard on every single word
 my nails are dug deep and my stomach hurts
 I am selfish it seems, but I'm trying my best to breathe
 hoping you don't notice as I keep laughing

---Condolences Lyrics
If you fantasize about your funeral, I understand
 I've been there before
 If what's more important, is the music played
 Than who'd attend
 We
 Are
 The
 Same
 With heads to the ground,
 As I'm lowered down,
 There will be a chorus
 An overwhelming sound.

Awaiting Trial - Joan of Arc Tribute

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*Saint Joan of Arc pray for me, speak to me….pray for the dead through me, for me
* dedicated to Bring Me the Horizon, Crucify Me
http://youtu.be/CFqMiI7G3oI

But Jesus said unto them, Ye know not what ye ask: can ye drink of the cup that I drink of? and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with? (Mark 10:38)

------------------/Awaiting Trial; The Thoughts Of Joan of Arc In Her Prison Cell

Beneath the angst riddled moon: maestro
dark clouds congregate like angels’ cymbals clashing,
the ominous music that introduces heaven to the damned…
chorus of seventy elders alternating baritone and soprano
at least,
I can only imagine; it is Vespers,
and I tell St. Michael I only want escape if freedom is his Angel Wings.
“Take me with your glorious legions” the guards hear me whisper,
hands clasped, head buried in my cot’s center
knees still on the floor beside my bed, hunched shadow dancing
by torchlight in the long stolid halls at Rouen castle chained,
Den of Devils.
I remember as a girl raising my father’s scythe for France,
sheep as allied soldiers, chickens my generals,
oxen my sturdy battering rams.
Saints Catherine and Margaret, comforters
Sisters of solace,
steadying my grave plight with the feminine balance only God foresaw.
Charles, it is for your crown that we all shed blood
for your fate I stand trial, sheep led to the slaughter
silent before her shearers, Jesus, meek in the face of Pilate
his mob of madcap Jews turned maniacal lying clerics,
“let her blood be upon England and our children.”
The cynic’s Kingdom, the other liar on the cross
still jeering in the face of imminent Salvation.
Charles, I wear your armor for you…
tunic, hosen, and long boots, breastplate fit for David -
or Joab, rather,
cursing gender for gender,
trading my breasts for your courage, your strength is my shame.
The ladies (Catherine and Margaret) once told me
a wedding is for naught if a girl hasn’t known love,
that wearing pants and helmet
mounting a steed breathing smoke rather than wear gaudy bracelets
on wrists of a pauper’s princess is worth the cost
of securing the heart of the Lover of All Soul’s Hearts.
For the sake of His Love, they say,
His Calling: “be willing to let your whole world burn”



[PRAY FOR THE DEAD, JOAN, THEY TOLD ME…BECAUSE YOU SHALL LIVER FOREVER]

-----Crucify Me Lyrics
Crucify me, and nail my hands to a wooden cross.
 There is nothing above, there is nothing below.
 Heaven and Hell lives in all of us,
 And I've been cast astray.
 I am an ocean, I am the sea,
 There is a world inside of me.
 Lost in the abyss, drowned in the deep,
 No set of lungs could salvage me.
 Only a shipwreck, only a ghost,
 Merely a graveyard of your former self.
 We just watched the waves crash over.
 I've been cast astray.
 There is a Hell, believe me I've seen it.
 There is a Heaven, let's keep it a secret.
 (No one needs to know)
 There is a Hell, believe me I've seen it.
 There is a Heaven, let's keep it a secret.
 (No one needs to know)
 I am an ocean, I am the sea,
 There is a world inside of me.
 Lost in the abyss, drowned in the deep,
 No set of lungs could salvage me.
 Save yourself, save your breath,
 The tides too strong, you'll catch your death.
 So breathe for me, just breathe.
 There is a Hell, believe me I've seen it.
 There is a Heaven, let's keep it a secret.
 (There is a hell, believe me I've seen)
 There is a Hell, believe me I've seen it.
 There is a Heaven, let's keep it a secret.
 (There is a hell believe me I've seen)
 Oh!
 If we make it through the night, if I make it out alive,
 Lord have mercy and pray for the dead.
 And you say that you can save me,
 Don't hope to ever find me,
 I fear I'm too far gone.
 Pray for the dead
 Oh!
 If we make it through the night, if I make it out alive,
 Lord have mercy and pray for the dead.
 And you said that you can save me,
 Don't hope to ever find me.
 I fear I'm too far gone
 Pray for the dead
 Pray for the dead
 Pray for the dead
 Pray for the dead
 Yeah!
 Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your full undivided attention?
 There is something you all really need to know.
 There is a Hell, believe me I've seen it.
 There is a Heaven, let's keep it a secret.
 (There is a hell, believe me I've seen i-i-i)
 There is a Hell, believe me I've seen it.
 There is a Heaven, let's keep it a secret.
 (There is a hell believe me I've seen)
 If we make it through the night, if we make it out alive.
 You said that you can save me,
 Don't hope to ever find me
 I fear I'm too far gone.
 Pray for the dead
 Oh!
 If we make it through the night, if we make it out alive.
 Lord have mercy and pray for the dead,
 You say that you can save me,
 Don't hope to ever find me
 I fear I'm too far gone.
 Pray for the dead
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me
 I am the ocean, I am the sea
 There is a world inside of me

Oh Gorsh This is So Melodramatic. (I hope you really meant your smile this time, my love....or did you??? :-/ )

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* Dedicated to Ann, curly haired mesmerizing voluptuous vortex of beauty
* Dedicated to Touche’ Amore’, Harbor
http://youtu.be/f3GIVnzcnp4  ---> click the link and thou shalt rock out


[You see Ann, you said hi to me around Christmastime….and you smiled as we met eyes! HOW COULD I LET THIS GO???? HOW??? YOU BODACIOUS BABE!!! I THOUGHT….I thought you didn’t like me? Wait maybe you still don’t…but…but…in that moment…you made me feel like a King! …And I thank you]

----------------/This Relic: Praying to Ann's Bones (After Landing on Them Of Course)

I remember, in the full ebullience of your youth,
(circa 2010), you were like a prophet to me,
cloaked in Elijah’s mantle.
This dazzling woman with blue eyes so enchanting,
staring at the world as if to conquer it
sapphire stones endowed by God,
my heart on fire with romance. Miraculous was our first conversation.
You multiplied the loaves of my passion,
your beauty like bread enough for a hundred men:
curly blonde hair, voluptuous figure surely a fit meal
for all my fantasies; my belly fat my sleep so serene.
You filled all the empty
jars of my expectations for the existence of a good girl
with fresh olive oil of hope, abundant aromatic gushing
of your personality like expensive perfume,
my fingers giddily sticky,
whereas most girls who preceded you couldn’t fill half a bowl;
satisfying the debts of my pessimism like debtors- brawny repossessors
come to steal away my desire for you like my two children
and I the lovelorn impoverished widow of a former prophet who perished
believing true love never dies.
You made the leaden iron axe head, my fear of racist limitations
float in waters of my amazement,
black men and white women like pieces of wood floating together,
in rhythm with the natural harmony of the universe. 

But then, you stood me up for lunch, thrice.
As quickly as you came you died, your putrid memory decaying
a bag of bones tossed in the ground, wrapped in a mantle as a burial robe
sepulcher of a heartbreaker. Dead to Tony forevermore.
What prophet lost? What prophet walked?

In your absence life is a battlefield,
In your absence I put on my helmet, my armor,
the bitterness that engulfs, safeguards and shields of the spurned
thrusting the spear of cynicism at any stupid silly girl
who dared make eyes at me again. EVER AGAIN.
But girls these days are savage Moabites, there is no matching ferocity
no intensity their rival – men haters, men breakers
blood flowing from their mouths as they tease, teeth like fangs
with fake smiles.
I haven’t dated in 14 years so I finally fell unable to cope,
the cumulative insanity from years heaped upon years of rejection.
My friends, Towson relationship warriors, tossed me in the ground
a makeshift burial for a man worn out and done in by love
left for dead as they fought on valiantly…
hastily engaged in vicious battles with snarky short skirts
with cunning wits like swords.

Yet lo,
this past Christmas I landed on your bones like serendipity:
in the hall,
like when we first met years ago - you smiled, you said hi,
you charmed with those eyes,
shifting ground, tectonic plates dancing
chambers of the damned opening forth,
gates of resurrection.  My soul is breathing your name again,
cells of rebirth are bouncing in my veins.
Anne, when you smile I need you to mean it this time,
as I take your mantle and put it on me
prayers for the restoration of your bones….


----"And Elisha died, and they buried him. And the bands of the Moabites invaded the land at the coming in of the year. And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that, behold, they spied a band of men; and they cast the man into the sepulchre of Elisha: and when the man was let down, and touched the bones of Elisha, he revived, and stood up on his feet." (2 Kings 13:20-21).



-----------/Harbor Lyrics
Call it a learning process
 And I've never been that quick
 Because I take things as they come
 And I respond how I see fit
 But it's easy to get distracted
 As I've been living life abroad
 I'm starved for your acceptance
 And I work for your applause
 I'd always envisioned myself as a giver
 But as I reflect I've left something to be desired
 Not that my heart
 Hasn't ever delivered
 But that it's never felt
 This inspired
 To have direction to feel complete
 To embrace affection to end all the woe is me
 But mainly to harbor the love that I have to give
 But for tonight let's just stay inside
 Well it's far too loud and I just want quiet
 And if we die before we wake
 I'll blame it on the past mistakes
 Without you I'm not pure
 And without you I'm not clean
 But if I'm going down with you
 Then you're going down with me
 What I'm afraid of is what is certain and
 What I'm sure of is that it's on me
 But I'm too tired to be that person
 And that person needs to be set free
 To harbor the love that I have to give

A Soul Set Sail - WOOOOOOOOO!!!!

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* for Abby, forgive me
* dedicated to Scary Kids Scaring Kids, Set Sail
http://youtu.be/17E2h5O99yk
http://youtu.be/9SuOGEY9oUc

[HOLY SPIRIT….WOOOOOOOOO!!!! {*..hiccup} WOOOOOO!!!! {*belch*}  I GOT MY BEER, PARACLETE, I GOT MY BEER WOOOO!!! COME ON HOLY SPIRIT, COME ON BABY BOY!!! I JUST BROUGHT MY BEER INTO THE PERPETUAL ADORATION CHAPEL SON….I GOT MY BUD LIGHT IN THE CHURCH, DOS EQUIS IN THE PEW!!!! …why….??? you say??? CUZ ITS TIME TO LET THE BEER FLOW LIKE WINE!!!! WOOOOOOO!!! LETS CELEBRATE DAWG!!! IN JESUS NAME…in….jesus…..name….WOOOO!!! CUZ HE SET ME FREEEEEEE!!!!! BOTTOMS UP MY NINJAS!!! HOLY SPIRIT THIS POEM’S FOR YOU DOG…he set me FREEEEEE]

----------------/A Soul Set Sail:  (The Cry of the Man With The Withered Hand)

Failure is the only way society can categorize the inept,
the kids who
after a certain age cant feed themselves, or in class
write neatly on their own wax tablets, or play board games
without a parent’s supervision to mitigate peer scoffing –
the repeated charges levied of an unbalanced playing field
like echoes of a banshee reverberating from the River Styx,
inexorable chastisement from Pluto,
cosmic wrath
dictated by six and seven year old diminutive tyrants. 
In adolescence, failure is the guy with unkempt hair.
His clothing disheveled, chaotic battles of the sloth,
glutton and drunkard, staple songs of giggling girls mockery
that damn
Even if untrue, they holdfast to reputation
and damn.
Weirdo reprobate with his right hand in his pocket,
his right eye always glistening in the sunlight,
walking home alone
contrary to the hardy young men training for battle
Jewish soldiers of the Pharisees,
warlords of the next generation,
marauders who poach the helpless of all dignity
toppling him over as they make way,
impudently.
So the synagogue turns refuge
where tears unabashedly flow,  in secret shadows
(silent prayers for redemption for two hands
to hold a son a daughter, a wife’s face…)
in the back pews
alone and unnoticed, unwanted everyday
irrespective of Sabbaths.
Oh if only I could close my eyes
and stretch my hands forth like in my dreams
if only all could be redeemed and made whole
the years stolen like black scars renting my heart be healed
and not just my hand, Good Teacher….
If you can….
my soul is withered too

[Dedicated to all the withered souls out there tonight. May God restore us all. May God be the Wind in our sails]


----Matthew 12:1-14
At that time Jesus went on the sabbath day through the corn; and his disciples were an hungred, and began to pluck the ears of corn and to eat. But when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto him, Behold, thy disciples do that which is not lawful to do upon the sabbath day. But he said unto them, Have ye not read what David did, when he was an hungred, and they that were with him; How he entered into the house of God, and did eat the shewbread, which was not lawful for him to eat, neither for them which were with him, but only for the priests? Or have ye not read in the law, how that on the sabbath days the priests in the temple profane the sabbath, and are blameless? But I say unto you, That in this place is one greater than the temple. But if ye had known what this meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice, ye would not have condemned the guiltless. For the Son of man is Lord even of the sabbath day. And when he was departed thence, he went into their synagogue: And, behold, there was a man which had his hand withered. And they asked him, saying, Is it lawful to heal on the sabbath days? that they might accuse him. And he said unto them, What man shall there be among you, that shall have one sheep, and if it fall into a pit on the sabbath day, will he not lay hold on it, and lift it out? How much then is a man better than a sheep? Wherefore it is lawful to do well on the sabbath days. Then saith he to the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he stretched it forth; and it was restored whole, like as the other. Then the Pharisees went out, and held a council against him, how they might destroy him.

---Set Sail Lyrics
Through a stranger's eyes
 I take a good look at my life
 Only to find that I’m not living
 I’m not alive
 I wanna live to tell the tale
 I wanna wake up before my ship sets sail
 Don’t wanna try to be anyone else
 I just wanna try to find myself
 We all know life could end in an instant
 We all just disappear
 So let me put this into perspective
 Let me make this clear
 I wanna live to tell the tale
 I wanna wake up before my ship sets sail
 Don’t wanna try to be anyone else
 I just wanna try to find myself
 I’ve grown tired of the same old f*** story
 I think I’m ready for a change
 If there’s a higher power up there watching over me
 Could you give me a sign today, today?
 Cuz I’ve grown tired, I’ve grown tired
 I think I’m ready for a change
 I wanna live to tell the tale
 I wanna wake up before my ship sets sail
 Don’t wanna try to be anyone else
 I wanna find myself, I wanna find myself
 I wanna wake up (I wanna find myself)
 I just wanna wake up (I wanna find myself)
--///////////////////////

Christ wrought, had a spiritual meaning. By nature our hands are withered, and we are unable of ourselves to do any thing that is good. Christ only, by the power of his grace, cures us; he heals the withered hand by putting life into the dead soul, works in us both to will and to do: for, with the command, there is a promise of grace given by the word. (Mt 12:14-21)

Wheatnee Button :( (Chiodos, help a brutha out!!!!!!)

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*Dedicated to Chiodos, A Letter from Janelle
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHjglV81tKw

* Dedicated to a girl who I totally blew it with. I am sorry Wheatnee Button (not her real name)

-----------------------/Ehud

My overture, blogging about my love for you behind your back,
rather than tell you in private, was the  most heinous evil in your sight.
I, once deemed a friend, now nothing more than a peoples regressed
worshipping idols of  indecorous behavior
bowing before the Baals of creepy, stalkerish men.
So you screamed- a summons to Biz and Pilla, savage children,
man of Ammon, girl of Amalek (about 30 years old)
lusting for blood, in hand spears of disparagement
(fetched from Georgetown)
torches with thick clouds of the black smoke meted out to the shameless,
exclusion from sendoff parties, replete with salacious gossip,
disavowals of all Facebook association –
this relentless onslaught of emotional brutality against my confidence,
city of palm trees.
You gave me the mental framework of the enslaved
carried off.
Back against the wall of my small hut allotted by my oppressors,
this prison of the damned lover, shackles of regret
I brood, I obsess about reprisal,
about Passanutten, and how a guitar and silly singing
truly compliment your beauty, princess of the autumn leaves
my belle of the brief bonfire
cut short by mad screams of neighbors “YOU CANT START A FIRE!!!”
About how I fantasize about your curly hair.
I have this two edged dagger, poetry and passion tucked
under my robe taped to my thigh....
seething and conniving to rid myself of the problem,
my fear of pretty girls- fat disgusting blubbery King of Moab
reclining repugnantly in his summer parlour.
My intention to apologize to you as his present,
packaged in cunning deceit.
I dismiss his royal court to whisper in his ear: “You are ruining
my dating prospects, Eglon, so die”
let my blade impale the pain he has caused, refuse in his veins
pouring from his cut like dirt from his belly. 
And so I run whilst my shy countenance tarries
Escaping to Seirath, land of the bold.
I blow a trumpet in Ephraim, Wheatnee,
let this apology come swift like armed soldiers
rescuing a land and correcting a fault,
the people of Israel are contrite-
I didn’t mean to hurt you, only to convey my attraction.


[I AM SORRY FOR BEING A SHY COWARD WHEATNEY BUTTON!!! I KNOW I BLEW IT WITH YOU, BUT I FEEL SO BAD ABOUT IT!!!! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!]


--------------------Judges 3:12-30
 And the children of Israel did evil again in the sight of the Lord: and the Lord strengthened Eglon the king of Moab against Israel, because they had done evil in the sight of the Lord. And he gathered unto him the children of Ammon and Amalek, and went and smote Israel, and possessed the city of palm trees. So the children of Israel served Eglon the king of Moab eighteen years. But when the children of Israel cried unto the Lord, the Lord raised them up a deliverer, Ehud the son of Gera, a Benjamite, a man lefthanded: and by him the children of Israel sent a present unto Eglon the king of Moab. But Ehud made him a dagger which had two edges, of a cubit length; and he did gird it under his raiment upon his right thigh. And he brought the present unto Eglon king of Moab: and Eglon was a very fat man. And when he had made an end to offer the present, he sent away the people that bare the present. But he himself turned again from the quarries that were by Gilgal, and said, I have a secret errand unto thee, O king: who said, Keep silence. And all that stood by him went out from him. And Ehud came unto him; and he was sitting in a summer parlour, which he had for himself alone. And Ehud said, I have a message from God unto thee. And he arose out of his seat. And Ehud put forth his left hand, and took the dagger from his right thigh, and thrust it into his belly: And the haft also went in after the blade; and the fat closed upon the blade, so that he could not draw the dagger out of his belly; and the dirt came out. Then Ehud went forth through the porch, and shut the doors of the parlour upon him, and locked them. When he was gone out, his servants came; and when they saw that, behold, the doors of the parlour were locked, they said, Surely he covereth his feet in his summer chamber. And they tarried till they were ashamed: and, behold, he opened not the doors of the parlour; therefore they took a key, and opened them: and, behold, their lord was fallen down dead on the earth. And Ehud escaped while they tarried, and passed beyond the quarries, and escaped unto Seirath. And it came to pass, when he was come, that he blew a trumpet in the mountain of Ephraim, and the children of Israel went down with him from the mount, and he before them. And he said unto them, Follow after me: for the Lord hath delivered your enemies the Moabites into your hand. And they went down after him, and took the fords of Jordan toward Moab, and suffered not a man to pass over. And they slew of Moab at that time about ten thousand men, all lusty, and all men of valour; and there escaped not a man. So Moab was subdued that day under the hand of Israel. And the land had rest fourscore years.


----A Letter from Janelle Lyrics

We make the sun shine, we make come on
 Move with me. Move with me.
 Move with me. Move with me.
 Don't you think I could tell that you were trying to, trying to
 Make a fool out of me. a fool out of me.
 Don't you think I could tell that you were trying to, trying to
 Make a fool out of me. a fool out of me.
 To remember who you really are.
 It's so easy to get lost in constantly having to present
 Whatever face you believe a person wants to see rather than your own.
 Yet we hesitate to surrender all of our insecurities
 Move with me. Move with me.
 Only the ones we are most comfortable relinquishing
 Move with me. Move with me.
 Don't you think I could tell that you were trying to, trying to
 Make a fool out of me. a fool out of me.
 Don't you think I could tell that you were trying to, trying to
 Make a fool out of me. a fool out of me.
[x6:]
 Such a paradox,
 Isn't it, isn't it?
 Isn't it, isn't it? [x2]