Dry Orphans of Jerusalem

+

------------/Orphans of Jerusalem: The Thoughts of The Man Healed by The Pool of Bethesda

What is hope?  Is it
some iridescent notion from above, an abstraction
of reality
with expansive wings, strap of the scabbard slung
across his right shoulder, white robe dipped
in streaks of glowing sparkles that spill from heaven’s
shooting stars? Is his sword powerful enough
to dispel the serpent’s venom that poisons
our dreams, fanged despair verging on suicide,
these scaled sentiments that slither around us
(at all times), into our subconscious whispering
improbability and “leprosarium”:
diseased shoulders resting against
diseased shoulders, lame legs atop of lame legs,
blind heads trying to nestle themselves,
constantly adjusting their weary way
into other blind men’s laps, arthritic backs relieved
by pillars doubling as guideposts of the cursed, the bright
glimmer of the moon refracted off the waters,
while a mass of clumped bodies  
sing ourselves to sleep with crossed fingers,
choirs of the desperate using hymnals of the forsaken?
Or is it a stirring from within? A rippling of tiny waves
of faith in the Bethesda of your own heart,
that has prayed and waits for more
than just the sporadic dip of angels
sprinkling the privileged around you for 38  long years,
while never getting wet, patiently yearning
for a billow of joy to gush forth due to someone else
stepping into the pool of your most sacred vulnerability. 
Yes, I tell you, it is a man born in Galilee,
seeking to save the lost like me even on the Sabbath.
His words are like miraculous Living Water
spritzing from His Mouth,
drenching a dried, broken soul in redemption.


------------------------John 5:1-9
After this there was a feast of the Jews; and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is at Jerusalem by the sheep market a pool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Bethesda, having five porches. In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water. For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had. And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years. When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole? The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me. Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take up thy bed, and walk. And immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed, and walked: and on the same day was the sabbath.

The Rich Young Ruler (She Crossed Her Legs and Left)

* dedicated to anyone who has ever wanted someone desperately, but never could attain them.
* When your last words before sleeping and your first words upon rising are your crush’s name, and there is a sinking despair that envelopes you when you realize everything you ever had and will have with them is dreaming, and that they are not lying next to you and will never lie next to you.
* Trust me, Jesus knows our pain yall!!!
*Dedicated to Fuel, Shimmer
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xj9qu_fuel-shimmer_music
* To the girl who rejected me, because I was born too early


------------------------/The Rich Young Ruler (She Crossed Her Legs and Left)

Your thighs that night, like
the moon bathing cobblestone roads
with a passionate amber glow,
from Jerusalem to Rome, and from thence
to the crucifixion of all my reservations
about your sexiness, the Golgotha of my self-control,
 and when I saw them I loved them,
wanting so badly to be your Savior.
But my beard, unkempt, and threadbare robe,
sandals with decaying thong,
the ravages of a 10 year (or more?) age gap,
full of the damnedest impossibility aren’t they?
To you, my speech is probably Aramaic,
screams of barbarism,
stench of dried blood and corpses’ sweat,
from fighting needlessly with guys who never
deserved you,
who couldn’t withstand the fiercely trained
legion of your high ideals,
speech that is blaring, Im sure
to the cultured ears of your royal diadems,
fur robes,
and Epicureanism handed down from Caesar. 
Because what I ask of you, simply
is to lay down your life for an older guy,
selling all your social cachet,
and kiss me
and run away with me dismissing the riches
of your former life with guys your age that
never had and never would bring you joy
anyway,
hoisting on your shoulders the cross
of my heart’s devotion. Yet I knew
this moment would ultimately encroach upon us,
the footsteps haunt my sleep,
I can hear the sighing in your eyes,
see the fires of Hell in your pout.
You, and your short shorts must sally forth,
before dawn  
to the world of comfort and societal conformity
you’ve always known,
turning your back on the Kingdom of God
I have offered.

(The discipleship of the wildest fantasies with you....my love)


--------------Mark 10:17-23
And when he was gone forth into the way, there came one running, and kneeled to him, and asked him, Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life? And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God. Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honour thy father and mother. And he answered and said unto him, Master, all these have I observed from my youth. Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up the cross, and follow me. And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions. And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!

--------------------Shimmer Lyrics
She calls me from the cold
 Just when I was low, feeling short of stable
 And all that she intends
 And all she keeps inside isn't on the label
She says she's ashamed
 Can she take me for awhile
 Can I be a friend, we'll forget the past
 Or maybe I'm not able and I break at the bend
We're here and now, will ever be again
 'Cause I have found
 All that shimmers in this world
 Is sure to fade away again
She dreams a champagne dream
 Strawberry surprise, pink linen on white paper
 Lavender and cream
 Fields of butterflies, reality escapes her
She says that love is for fools that fall behind
 And I'm somewhere between
 Never really know a killer from a savior
 'Til I break at the bend
We're here and now, will ever be again
 'Cause I have found
 All that shimmers in this world
 Is sure to fade away again
It's too far away for me to hold, too far away
 It's too far away for me to hold, too far away
 It's too far away for me to hold, too far away
 It's too far away for me to hold, too far away
It's too far away for me to hold, too far away
 It's too far away for me to hold, too far away
 Guess I'll let it go

Taylor Swift, Rule My Heart. Please?

------------------/Taylor Swift, Be My King Of Egypt (Set Me Free)

Taylor, these bars oxidized orange underneath
peeling layers of lost time, hands
thickened and congealed for superfluous and futile attempts
at emancipation, clenching and pushing furiously,
callously,
by guard’s dim candlelight, as I scream for dignity
and redemption much to the dismay
of the prisoners flanking me in this cramped cell
of loneliness, putrid stench of the lovelorn.
My love for you like a butler embattled
shivering in winter, teeth chattering in the cold wind,
warmed by optimism as a blanket,
as he tells me of delightsome dreams with a dulcet smile:
you and me together drinking from the vine
of darling fantasies, my kisses for you like grapes pressed,
my desire for you earthy wine aged to perfection
ecstasy lifted to your lips, the excess pouring
down your chin,
and into my cupped hands beneath it;
Staring into your eyes.
And yet my fear of your rejection is a bilious baker
with indiscriminate and overwhelming flatulence in sleep,
rodents nuzzled under his chin
tossing and turning with fiendish nightmares
of the apocalypse: white baskets on his head
with my heart inside, birds of public protest,
those haters who say we shouldn’t be together,
another bird with the likeness of Harry Styles,
pecking and pecking until my heart splays blood
and beats no more.
As each day passes I pray for the turning of the    
latch, your blue eyes a prison key,
your blonde hair like loosened shackles,
and ankles that throb,
your sexy videos a bath and shave, cleansing the grime
off my 14 years of singleness. #shakeitoff
You are the King of Egypt,
when you release the Butler, and hang the Baker
please find favor with the Butler
and remember me.   


(In this cage of the disconsolate)



------Genesis 40 (KJV)
And it came to pass after these things, that the butler of the king of Egypt and his baker had offended their lord the king of Egypt. And Pharaoh was wroth against two of his officers, against the chief of the butlers, and against the chief of the bakers. And he put them in ward in the house of the captain of the guard, into the prison, the place where Joseph was bound. And the captain of the guard charged Joseph with them, and he served them: and they continued a season in ward. And they dreamed a dream both of them, each man his dream in one night, each man according to the interpretation of his dream, the butler and the baker of the king of Egypt, which were bound in the prison. And Joseph came in unto them in the morning, and looked upon them, and, behold, they were sad. And he asked Pharaoh's officers that were with him in the ward of his lord's house, saying, Wherefore look ye so sadly to day? And they said unto him, We have dreamed a dream, and there is no interpreter of it. And Joseph said unto them, Do not interpretations belong to God? tell me them, I pray you. And the chief butler told his dream to Joseph, and said to him, In my dream, behold, a vine was before me; And in the vine were three branches: and it was as though it budded, and her blossoms shot forth; and the clusters thereof brought forth ripe grapes: And Pharaoh's cup was in my hand: and I took the grapes, and pressed them into Pharaoh's cup, and I gave the cup into Pharaoh's hand. And Joseph said unto him, This is the interpretation of it: The three branches are three days: Yet within three days shall Pharaoh lift up thine head, and restore thee unto thy place: and thou shalt deliver Pharaoh's cup into his hand, after the former manner when thou wast his butler. But think on me when it shall be well with thee, and shew kindness, I pray thee, unto me, and make mention of me unto Pharaoh, and bring me out of this house: For indeed I was stolen away out of the land of the Hebrews: and here also have I done nothing that they should put me into the dungeon. When the chief baker saw that the interpretation was good, he said unto Joseph, I also was in my dream, and, behold, I had three white baskets on my head: And in the uppermost basket there was of all manner of bakemeats for Pharaoh; and the birds did eat them out of the basket upon my head. And Joseph answered and said, This is the interpretation thereof: The three baskets are three days:  Yet within three days shall Pharaoh lift up thy head from off thee, and shall hang thee on a tree; and the birds shall eat thy flesh from off thee. And it came to pass the third day, which was Pharaoh's birthday, that he made a feast unto all his servants: and he lifted up the head of the chief butler and of the chief baker among his servants. And he restored the chief butler unto his butlership again; and he gave the cup into Pharaoh's hand: But he hanged the chief baker: as Joseph had interpreted to them. Yet did not the chief butler remember Joseph, but forgat him.

Before We Were Kings

I grieve for you, Jonathan my brother; you were very dear to me. Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women. – 2 Samuel 1:26

* dedicated to Christlife Men’s Group

---------------------/Before We Were Kings; David’s Last Words to Jonathan

I will always remember, my friend, when we
were just two men face to face in a field
almost whispering, wary of the din of our adversary,
clanging swords of certain calamity,
sandals sinking in mud steeped
between our toes, the soil of affliction,
predisposed to embrace death together. 
Our tears articulating the thousand word speeches
residing in our hearts that our mouths
had stubbornly forsworn to speak,
a noble subconscious sedition of the soul, saying
what needs to be said when one lives in denial
of the inevitable, because sometimes
life isn’t all that fair and it hurts to forever live
with regret, scars of the heart that never scab.
We talked briefly about what lie ahead
when we both reach glory at the end of our
winding paths, our chariots
pulled by horses of the  divine order,
on bejeweled spoke wheels
two kings sharing a banquet hall both
beloved of the people…the songs…the dance,
goblets full of wine in the next life, on your arm
the wife you never had smiling as an angel. 
Ironically, neither of us ever wanted the crown
just to raise sheep
and hunt for our fathers,
maybe plunge into an estuary on a brisk autumn noon,
two rustic fisherman competing fiercely
 for the most prodigious haul.
In retrospect, perhaps, our naiveté, hallmark of the chosen, 
destined us for these drastically divergent fates,
me to rule unwittingly in your place and you to die for it
giving up the kingdom you were bequeathed,
and laying your life down willingly,
to answer all the exigent questions
a man ever needed to know about a true friend
affirmatively:

will you stay beside me, and will you love me
even when the world
burns?

(I love you my friend. Until we meet again….)

-------------------1 Samuel 18:1-5; 1 Samuel 20:33-43
As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father's house. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul.  And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt. And David went out and was successful wherever Saul sent him, so that Saul set him over the men of war. And this was good in the sight of all the people and also in the sight of Saul's servants; Then Saul cast a spear at him to kill him, by which Jonathan knew that it was determined by his father to kill David. So Jonathan arose from the table in fierce anger, and ate no food the second day of the month, for he was grieved for David, because his father had treated him shamefully. And so it was, in the morning, that Jonathan went out into the field at the time appointed with David, and a little lad was with him. Then he said to his lad, “Now run, find the arrows which I shoot.” As the lad ran, he shot an arrow beyond him.  When the lad had come to the place where the arrow was which Jonathan had shot, Jonathan cried out after the lad and said, “Is not the arrow beyond you?”  And Jonathan cried out after the lad, “Make haste, hurry, do not delay!” So Jonathan’s lad gathered up the arrows and came back to his master.  But the lad did not know anything. Only Jonathan and David knew of the matter.  Then Jonathan gave his weapons to his lad, and said to him, “Go, carry them to the city.” As soon as the lad had gone, David arose from a place toward the south, fell on his face to the ground, and bowed down three times. And they kissed one another; and they wept together, but David more so.  Then Jonathan said to David, “Go in peace, since we have both sworn in the name of the Lord, saying, ‘May the Lord be between you and me, and between your descendants and my descendants, forever.’” So he arose and departed, and Jonathan went into the city.

Jesus' Last Prayer

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. "Couldn't you men keep watch with me for one hour?" he asked Peter. – Matthew 26:40

* Dedicated to the Virgin Mary
*dedicated to Amity Affliction, Pittsburgh
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vu3xGr-lNVI


-------------------/Amen

What is it about trauma that drives one
out into the dead of night kneeling
before a congress of stars pleading
for peace of mind? Is it to conjure up cherished
chrysanthemums freshly plucked,
conspiracies to charm coddles from Mom? Memories
of her sweet radiant smile as balm
when the fires of Hell are raging and
you have already smelled the smoke in your sleep,
nightmares of your skeleton disembodied
walking house to house, frayed knuckles rapping on doors
informing your disciples the dream is dead. A lifeless
lamb forever etched in their hearts of nostalgia
forlorn;
a penumbra descending like a plume of black mist
on all the miracles you ever
performed…now in vain, written off as chicanery
of the Baals. But only now the division between
subconscious and conscious thinking has fallen,
the notional-cum-reality while wide awake,
existence as perpetual restlessness
your head on  the lap of angels wiping
all your tears with their wings.
And who can offer solace, while one is in a state
like this? The sobering truth is Death draws near
inexorably
with a sly, cynical and savage grin (and rusty nails). 
Prayers for the panicked -
when you want more than anything
to change the world 
so bad in fact drops of blood
glistening under this haunted moon
fall off your face as sweat.
You tell yourself, as you hear footsteps
approaching with torches and swords,
that everything returns to Spirit
in the end anyway.



(That no matter what, you will be One with God)


--------------------Matthew 26:36-46
Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and said to the disciples, “Sit here while I go and pray over there.”  And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and He began to be sorrowful and deeply distressed.  Then He said to them, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with Me.” He went a little farther and fell on His face, and prayed, saying, “O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will.” Then He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, “What! Could you not watch with Me one hour?  Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Again, a second time, He went away and prayed, saying, “O My Father, if this cup cannot pass away from Me unless[e] I drink it, Your will be done.”  And He came and found them asleep again, for their eyes were heavy. So He left them, went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same words.  Then He came to His disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners.  Rise, let us be going. See, My betrayer is at hand.”



-------Pittsburgh Lyrics
Lyrics to Pittsburgh
I've been searching for an exit
 But I'm lost inside my head
 Where I spend every waking moment
 Wishing I was dead
 For a few minutes get me away from here
 For a few minutes wiper away my tears
 (For I am lost right now as the ocean deep)
 I am low my friend and how my heart does sink
 (Yeah I am lost right now as the ocean deep)
 I am low my friend and how my heart does sink
 It's like there's cancer in my blood
 It's like there's water in my lungs
 And I can't take another step
 Please tell me I am not undone
 It's like there's fire in my skin
 And I'm drowning from within
 I can't take another breath
 Please tell me I am not undone
 I've been searching for an exit
 But I'm lost inside my head
 Where I spend every waking moment
 Wishing this would end
 I can't take another step
 I cannot live inside my mind
 I can't face another day
 I am so fucking tired
 For I am lost right now as the ocean deep
 I am low my friend and how my heart does sink
 (Yeah I am lost right now as the ocean deep)
 I am low my friend and how my heart does sink
 It's like there's cancer in my blood
 It's like there's water in my lungs
 And I can't take another step
 Please tell me I am not undone
 It's like there's fire in my skin
 And I'm drowning from within
 I can't take another breath
 Please tell me I am not undone
 I've been searching for an exit
 But I'm lost inside my head
 Where I spend every waking moment
 Wishing I was dead
 I'll take another step for you
 I'll shed my tears until I drown
 or until I am underground
 I'll take another breath for you
 Will you still be there when I'm home
 out from the great unknown?
 It's like there's cancer in my blood
 It's like there's water in my lungs
 And I can't take another step
 Please tell me I am not undone
 It's like there's fire in my skin
 And I'm drowning from within
 I can't take another breath
 Please tell me I am not undone
 It's like there's cancer in my blood
 It's like there's water in my lungs
 And I can't take another step
 Please tell me I am not undone
 It's like there's fire in my skin
 And I'm drowning from within
 I can't take another breath
 Please tell me I am not undone

Psalm 2 for Emma Watson

*dedicated to Emma Watson

--------------------/Psalm 2 For Emma Watson

My loneliness is like crass old men with crowns
of tarnished gold tilted on their heads
from debased lands
greying from the strains of unwieldiness, 
plagued with resentment of untamed borders.
Beneath their leaden hands my heart, as a serf,
cant withstand the vast abuses
of the scepter,
recurring memories of girls spurning my advances
these last 14 years are
insufferable taxations of land and commerce,
the merciless conscription of fathers’ only sons
and pillaging of my childhood dreams of marriage
like choice cattle by bands of depraved soulless
king’s archers bought with unjust royal usury.  
Hope is an abutting neighbor, yet at times
seemingly distant savior
whose king they laugh to scorn, jeering its anointed beauty
derisively as if she were powerless,
their kingdom as if inconsequentially teased with military
aggression taunting, Let us break their bands asunder,
and cast away their cords from us.
Emma, rise up and beckon the sunrise with your smile,
as my anointed one,
your mirth of spirit and beaming eyes like the
the holy One of Zion. I promise, ask anything of the hope
that is within me and it shall be done,
a kiss from my lips to slay these heathen as your inheritance.
Our love shall break them with a rod of iron,
my hand on your back as we dance under waterfalls
in the courtyard shalt dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.
(Heavenly romance with you, one of the perks of being
a wallflower.)
Kings of erstwhile loneliness and depression of soul, beware
kneel before my apoplectic yearning for Ms Watson
with fear and trembling;
lest we rule together in each other’s arms,
she seated in my lap on the throne
....as I kiss her on her cheek-
and you perish from the way.


----------------------Psalm 2
Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against his anointed, saying, Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us. He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision. Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure. Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion. I will declare the decree: the Lord hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee. Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel. Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.

By Candlelight

* dedicated to Open Letter
http://youtu.be/Yxx_JdoOGB8

*dedicated to RB – and NO! Just cuz its football season, I aint talking bout no Running Back!
(Okay girl, how about this – if youre single at 20 and Im still single at *ah blah blah blah*…lets give it a chance! Lets walk down the Baltimore Harbor together discourse face to face, rather than me shielding myself behind these poems…and you….well who knows how you feel?)

Now, of course, if you currently have a 6 foot 8 boyfriend – disregard everything youre about to read!!!

--------------------/By Candlelight

Im like a girl…in a bed pining away
for a man she cant find, whose ardor for his
enchanting smile and bewitching mannerisms
jostle her from sleep conflating dream
for reality.  But I am not a girl, whereas the Bible
is fact, this poem is an apologue regarding a man
peering out the lattice windows of his heart
for a girl 14 years his junior and finding the streets
of opportunity empty,
the cruel effulgent moon casting tall shadows
of tress and houses into any open spaces
she might be ensconced.
The impatient sun turning its back on love
and hasting my birth.
Crawling in the streets for you blinded by tears
nourished by fears I will never again
cross your path, and gaze into your hazel eyes
watching myself in their reflection,
pools of Mnemosyne recalling the love
Adam first had for Eve.
May the spears and short swords of the watchmen,
encouragement and consoling advice
from friends and family, find and restore me
lest I faint and languish before I return home
disconsolate and bereft of the woman my soul thirsts
for. Or will the armed guards of public opinion
upbraid me instead, shackles on my wrists and ankles
led away to the stocks,
their grungy hands of condescension and discouragement
muffling my wailing for you?
Will the town think Im crazy for this besotted love
I harbor for a teenager?
Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr….I seek a girl
with black hair who lives in Maryland,
have you seen her? If you do, inform her that I am
in Maryland too…stumbling around dark alleys
blindly trouncing flowerpots (of social convention)
with my feet
seeking her love in return by candlelight.

----------------Song of Solomon 3:1-3
By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found me: to whom I said, Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?

-----Open Letter Lyrics
This is my open letter,
 This is something to remember.
 I won't be buried before my time,
 I'm not searching for forever,
 I've got my eyes opened wide,
 I've been searching under rubble from the past,
 just looking for a reason to make your life last.
 No need to look skyward for you to find hope,
 no need for redemption to be saved from the rope,

F* No!

 I'm not searching the sky for a reason to live
 'cause I found beauty right here and found the passion to give,
 so let me give you my heart, let me give you my tears,
 let me give you my life, let me give you my fears.
 Just so you can hold on and sing while I do, sing these words out so loud,
 like I sing them for you.
 This is your open letter, something to remember,
 we can still keep on fighting even though life is not forever.
 I'm not searching the sky for a reason to live
 'cause I found beauty right here and found the passion to give,
 so let me give you my heart, let me give you my tears,
 let me give you my life, let me give you my fears.
 This is my open letter, this is something to remember.
 This is my open letter, I'm not searching for forever.

I'm not searching the sky for a reason to live
 'cause I found beauty right here and found the passion to give,
 so let me give you my heart, let me give you my tears,
 let me give you my life, let me give you my fears.

 One more time!

I'm not searching the sky for a reason to live
 'cause I found beauty right here and found the passion to give,
 so let me give you my heart, let me give you my tears,
 let me give you my life, let me give you my fears.