My Dichotomous Self

*Dedicated to the Angels who rescued Lot

-------------------------/My Dichotomous Self: The Last Words of Lot in Sodom


They say husband and wife are one-
homo erectus-
those of the same bone but different flesh
carrying the same angst,
a man beleaguered by his sins pointing
blames’ finger at both himself and someone else.
I am single but I often dream of my wife.
Her eyes enchanting, body beguiling as she walks
shedding specks of dirt as divine magic dust
presenting herself as my treasure
awaiting a worthy name:
Contrast.
She and I are part of the same fantasy,
I cannot separate her from the dreams
of who I am and want most to become.
Of curiosity we eat from the same tree
of deceptions we share the same disingenuous
serpents’ speech, seduced together in Sodom
our hearts set on Gomorrah
forgetting quickly the flaming swords of the past
and the visions of corpses that jar our children from sleep
rustling winds of condemnation,
and the snarls of carnivores howling at the wind. 
Like her, a part of me remains in this accursed city
charmed, besotted in some sense to this land
full of craven calloused carousing men
who have sex with animals and behead their own mothers.
Burning children sacrificed to gods like gentle lullabies
the screams
overpowering any gentle echoes of humanity’s righteous past.
Yet what is left churns in disgust
that even holy messengers have no sanctum or dignity here;
I would rather my lose my virgin
daughters to pernicious suffering than to forget God-
reprising Eden’s horrific fall.
So when opportunity avails itself
hastening upon us like celestial salvation from imminent chaos
 it feels as though I am tearing myself apart,
like nursing fractured bones.
 I want to run towards this new hope,
carried by angels to restore my infinitude,
while still yearning for that perverted pleasure 
I have come to savor like salt.





-------------Genesis 19:23-26
The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot entered into Zoar. Then the LORD rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the LORD out of heaven; And he overthrew those cities, and all the plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and that which grew upon the ground. But his wife looked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt.

Raboni

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-------------------/Rabboni: The Thoughts Of Mary Magdalene At Jesus' Tomb

What do the lost do exactly? Seek the dead
amongst the living, and vice versa
hoping to defy all odds pitted against them
no matter how disproportionately, cruelly or
maliciously so.  To chase echoes, to chase ghosts
as catharsis when everything sanguine
that compelled you to wake up in the morning
languished on a Roman cross three days ago
full of empty promises, curse of a woman’s’ naiveté’
too easily deceived by the charms
of charismatic men… And you see, now every cool breeze
feels chilled, the erstwhile comforts of the sunrise burn,
chirrups of birds, the howling of wolves at night,
morning conversations with luminous men
who sit atop open tombs with pointed questioning
are just not real anymore. (My savior buried,
reality starts rolling downhill into entropy.) No, these are just
grief stricken auditory hallucinations of the damned.
What to make of the miracles, the miraculous accretion
of fish and loaves – was this just hope filled banter
of the poor who just wanted it too badly?
Perhaps we are just as psychologically inept
as the Caesars, Julius as a martyr for sanity,
may his blood purge away my pain.
There will be no revolution now
no bones of David dipped in gold in a reliquary
on the mantle of our Messiah. Oh wretched
darkness of the heart, oh deplorable fate
of the reprobate!!!: unceasing vile chatter of soul,
like inner intestinal groans of demons,
stench of my rotted breasts with sour milk,
dripping into the mouths of my unborn children
crying for a real mother instead of a whore!!!
Oh Jesus why did you have to die…
Rabboni
Rabboni
Please don’t die. Please
no more tears.


-----------John 20:15-16
Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?" Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, "Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away." Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to Him in Hebrew, "Rabboni!" (which means, Teacher).

Baltimore City, July 1, 2014

[The Setting: Hard Rock Café in downtown Baltimore City at dusk.  The main dining space is pleasantly spacious with an acute focus on the bar directly in the center. Smatterings of large rectangular wooden tables are spaced aside diminutive square and rounded tables to accommodate smaller parties flanking all sides of the bar.  Other elevated dining spaces are ensconced in the four corners of the building, cased by wooden railings, with low hanging light fittings with glass shading. In the entrance to the foyer glass paneling stands in lieu of traditional brick walls introducing an almost magical blending of natural light and artificial candescent lighting from the long cylindrical ceiling light bulbs. Various posters of Rock musicians and other music memorabilia align almost every square inch of the walls not replaced by the aforementioned glass. Satan and Tony sit next to one another on two newly polished barstools with plush indigo padding. Almost every other seat is occupied, as summer weekends usually attract throngs of people to the Harbor. The bartender’s interest is piqued when he overhears portions of the dialogue between Tony and Satan, despite myriad other conversations around him and the demands placed on his time]

I Had A Beer With Satan (Part 5)...IN BALTIMORE CITY!!!!

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---------------------/I Had a Beer With Satan Pt 5: Hanging Whispers in Baltimore City

[SATAN (ordering another Budweiser for Tony)]:
So here we are again my friend
two of the world’s finest gents,
brothers in ashes and fire, kindred damned souls
of charred regret,
sinning grotesquely and living to tell about it
over beer. Yes we have squandered our salvation
haven’t we. Or maybe wretchedness requires a cleansing.
This is baptism of the reprobates, rebirth from
sorrows to sorrows.
Tony, pour your beer over your head

[TONY (confused)]:
What? Why would I do that? I think I’m leav…

(Satan viciously smacks Tony to the bemusement of the bartender. Tony grimaces in pain)

[Bartender]:
Easy guys….calm down okay?
Don’t make me call Baltimore City police.
There is justice in this world, perhaps,
maybe not celestial, but in the flesh
blood and hearts of moral men,
normal, average men like myself,
sensitive to labored screaming of innocently
shed blood. No, Ive seen far too many baptisms
of your sort. Psychotic people submerged
in imaginary red rivers of a stained conscience,
forcefully trying to proselytize new converts
drowning their own bitterness
floating downstream in their own religious delusions. 

(Satan sneers at the bartender but defiantly pours beer over Tony’s head)

[SATAN]:
Tony, what are you now? 33?
Still single, still broke, life still in shambles huh?
Chasing after younger girls who don't even know you exist?
Its time.
Drink another beer

(Tony drinks his 4th beer of the evening)

[SATAN]:
Yes, my friend like I always told you
there are no benisons in inhibition,
you just wind up torturing your will
in hell fire,
the lake that always smolders with frustration
and piteous self-condemnation.
At 33 years old, with no house, no girlfriend
and barely any savings, I would advise
an immediate change of course.
Walk backwards from the Jerusalem of your
hallucinations,
of God, of Heaven, of some abstract notion
of a second chance nailed to perseverance
and foolhardy longsuffering of principle and virtue,
fool on a rotted wooden cross with a lance
impaled. No Tony, pull down that ripe apple
from the tree of your sexual fantasies.
All the women wear short skirts in Eden you know?
Ravage the garden of your conscience until
there’s nothing left, slake your hedonistic thirst
in waters "poisoned." 
The serpent of your fiendish, kinky desire
hanging from a tree into your feminine side
whispering.
 Not death, but life.

(Satan pauses then down his shot of Jack Daniels)

[SATAN]:
You know what he says to you Tony?

[Tony, drinking another beer]:
What?

[SATAN]:
God is a lie. Hire a prostitute and together
tonight thoroughly watch porn.
If you have a baby, get an abortion.
Either that or take more heroin because there is no hope.
If nothing else, watch porn and live for today. Cheers-
to the best kept secrets of a slithering forked tongue 
no one wants to resist.
  
(Tony and Satan drink another beer. Tony pours beer on his head. The bartender now disgruntled shakes his head and walks off.)

--------------------------Luke 22:31-32
And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat:  But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.