My Heart's Withered Hands

* Jesus pray for me
* Dedicated to #TaylorDateTony
* Dedicated to Of Machines, An Autobiography
https://youtu.be/JNkcLW7fCYI
“…This is the golden rule,
Keep what you have……..
…..'cause it's all we have left”

[Okay guys, listen to this song (lyrics below) before you read my poem, making sure you put your lighters up at the 4:45 mark and wave them slowly, sentimentally with eyes wide shut. Then around the 6:16 mark start clapping! Clap for #TayTay!!!! #Kanye may be running for Prez, but you guys know we all need to cast our votes for #TaylorDateTony!!! (Sorry Calvin Harris, please don’t pound me! Eek!!!) Tell Taylor, to cherish this poem…because…its all we have left!...(that is until she dates me!)]

+-----My Heart's Withered Hands; The Thoughts of A Man With a Withered Hand/Heart

Taylor, my heart once held its
hope of finding love, fingers
clasping,
caressing romantic
joy close to the soul, like
a mother weaning her child, deep
-seated dreams giving suck to
budding potentiality of someone’s
hair flitting against my nose
one day,
face to face with the woman of my
dreams, laughing, smiling
while dancing beneath passion’s
moon. Oh those effervescent rains
of bliss, like water to me, from the sky
of mirth, the moisture of
my zeal. But that was before
the drought, when the showers of
optimism ran dry from the searing sun
of scorn, scorching winds (singeing
lips that used to kiss)
and arid
denunciations from girls I esteemed
so dearly.
Over time my heart became
brittle from waiting for ‘the One,’
cracked skin, morbidly drying palms
dehydrated,
as all hope slipped through these
withered hands. Desiccant eyes cried out.
Oh Taylor,
when I watched you last night on the
#VMAs, though, I was a supplicant
in a synagogue of mercy. When I beheld your
graceful spirit forgive #Yeezus for his wrongs,
your sultry sauntering on stage while
singing superb song, your buoyant
acceptance of your Video Of The Year award
(with your drop dead gorgeous crew),
I felt my heart reach out
deep from within me. Your blonde hair
like re-circulation of blood in my veins,
your blue eyes like flesh expanding
around a broken, frail metacarpus
encouraging it to grasp what it once
thought lost (dropped). Oh baby,
what Im trying to say is, what Im asking,
is that if you kiss me I will have the strength
to pick up the pieces
of shattered marital longings,
if you put your hand in the small of
my back, firmly, and dance with me…
the hands of my heart will be made whole.

(Despite the misgivings of Calvin Harris, that tall handsome Pharisee inimical to my advances towards you.)

OH TAYTAY!!! DATE WITH ME TODAYDAY!!! OKAYKAY???
????????????????????????


--- Mark 3:1-6
And he entered again into the synagogue; and there was a man there which had a withered hand. And they watched him, whether he would heal him on the sabbath day; that they might accuse him. And he saith unto the man which had the withered hand, Stand forth. And he saith unto them, Is it lawful to do good on the sabbath days, or to do evil? to save life, or to kill? But they held their peace. And when he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, he saith unto the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other. And the Pharisees went forth, and straightway took counsel with the Herodians against him, how they might destroy him.

---An Autobiography Lyrics

Living in recession.
It isolates the time that's past by.
And it feels so long.
I reach for that line I can't hold on,
I can't hold on...

I can't see what lies beneath the words.
Where have I been?
Where have I been?
Between what rests in my soul and what's given.
It will never...
It will never weigh the truth.

I won't give up!
This is not where I stop!
The truth it lies and there is faith behind the frames!

I have a lot riding on this.
And I can't afford to give up now.
The scene's repeating.

I have a lot riding on this.
And I can't afford to give up now.
The scene's repeating.

I won't give up!
I've come to the conclusion that there is no escaping!

I have a lot riding on this.
And I can't afford to give up now.
The scene's repeating.

I won't give up!
I've come to the conclusion that there is no escaping!

And I told you once,
and I'll tell you again.
Secrets are kept by your end.

And I told you once,
and I told you this.
When we survive, we only pretend.
When we survive, we only pretend.

This is the golden rule,
Keep what you have.
'cause it's all we have left.

This is the golden rule,
Keep what you have.
'cause it's all we have left.

This is the golden rule,
Keep what you have.
'cause it's all we have left.

Curse of the Firstborn #IamJacob

* Jesus pray for me
* Jacob pray for me
#IamJacob
* Dedicated to Of Machines, Weaving the Values That Sustain Us
https://youtu.be/QoAMf3i8OLQ?list=PL6CDC2B4D5B152746

Just as it is written: "Jacob I loved, but Esau I hate (Romans 9:13)
The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. (Colossians 1:15)

+-----Curse of the Firstborn (Part 1); Jacob's Thoughts While In The Womb

And who can give me recompense
for my rage at this awkward
positioning, this impediment to
realizing the manifest destiny
engraved on my heart, celestial
calligraphy of angels incomprehensible
to man, since before the
beginning of time?
During this time of incubation
I try not to fester in unacknowledged
angst in the womb,
nourished by the placenta
of patience and prayer: on my lips
the song of the salvation of nations,
a hymn of sorts,
sung reverently to my God,
as if twelve tribes are awaiting
my birth, a multitude of peoples
expectantly waiting for the world
to change for the better.  I do
not know him, my twin brother, ugly,
before me with eyes that never open,
a mouth perpetually pursed as
if withholding Satan’s punitive secrets.
There is something about him
I do not trust: he a hirsute hag
hogging space in the womb,
obstructing my vaginal virtue,
wanting to hoard the perks and privileges
allotted to those firstborn.
Our fates hang in the balance,
a jubilant world redeemed or a world
and all its peoples burning, screams
and black smoke of original sin
unforgiven, one man destined
to serve the other,
like licking the debased slag
of an adversary forever chagrinned
and filled with regret at inheriting
youth from his exhausted mother.  
If nothing else changes the elder baby
will not be guiltless, I swear to God
there will be guile.  Whether through
cunning or deceit or treachery,
I must acquire the benevolence
promised long ago to my father –
that his son be
a Blessing to future generations,
that through him the Messiah comes,
twisting the hairy heel of the damned
for the rest of his life if he has to.



--- Genesis 25:21-26 And Isaac intreated the Lord for his wife, because she was barren: and the Lord was intreated of him, and Rebekah his wife conceived. And the children struggled together within her; and she said, If it be so, why am I thus? And she went to enquire of the Lord. And the Lord said unto her, Two nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger. And when her days to be delivered were fulfilled, behold, there were twins in her womb. And the first came out red, all over like an hairy garment; and they called his name Esau. And after that came his brother out, and his hand took hold on Esau's heel; and his name was called Jacob: and Isaac was threescore years old when she bare them.

---Weaving The Values Lyrics

Everyone clears from the room but I seem to maintain posture
Is this a street sign ahead of me or a road to show the way
Cause I've learned to live with failure
And It painted such picture that I cannot speak at all
That I cannot speak at all

And may you find someone who compels you
And with these hands I can not repel you

This is such an amazing sight to see you again
That white picked face yeah I've seen what lies ached
I know what is kept at day
May you find someone who compels you compels you

How can I (how can I)
How can I (how can I)
How can I find what's inside you

How can I (nothing will ever change)
How can I (how can I)
How can I find what's inside you
How can I (how can I find what's inside)
How can I (how can I find what's inside)

How can I find what's inside you find what's inside you

Tonight oh god

To Egypt.....(And Back) #IamJoseph

* Jesus pray for me
* Saint Joseph pray for me


+---------To Egypt... (and Back); Saint Joseph's Thoughts Before Leaving for Egypt

I remember the reenactments
when I was younger, our sheep as
chariots, my sister would wrap one of Mom’s
old dusty tunics atop her head (grinning), a
makeshift Nemes granting
instantaneous exaltation from dust to glory-
this miraculous metamorphosis before
charmed siblings’ eyes:
she escorted from Nazarene penury
to Egypt’s most posh palace to reign over
us with an iron fist-
a bent scalpum from my father
as the ornamental uraeus protruding from
her tiny forehead,
that slithering serpent of rust that made
the rest of us squeal when chased.
Yet as I got older, upon learning this once
enchanting land had been “cursed”
by my forbearers, its memory extrapolated
with more and more of my adult foreboding,
I exchanged the glory stories of youth
with gore, the admiration of jewels
and pyramids for disdain
at years and years of our rampant abuse
with whips and fists
that necessitated divine plagues,
the harshest of penalties for a people
born with the hardest of hearts.
But now it is my heart that needs to be mollified,
counseled through the nebulae that
envelops it: My wife birthed a son but
I don’t yet fully understand it or him, this
bright luminous personage routinely appears
before me in my dreams rustling me
from sleep, wildly gesticulating his dire
pronouncements of death at the hands
of Herod if I don’t go,
if I don’t flee the only hometown I have
ever known, and trust in God’s provision
for resources and energy I surely don’t have.
I don’t even know how long I should stay
(my large visiting Angel, that I hope is an
Angel and not my own subconscious
mind moralizing to me into paranoia,
didn’t specify this).
I think of my sister often these days,
imagining her playfully scowled face,
chuckling and musing
to myself that the real Pharaoh
couldn’t possibly hold a candle to her tyranny.
Tomorrow I leave for Egypt,
a lamb tentatively treading into the unknown.
I pray I find my answers there-
that maybe these fears have been sent
from above to drive me from dying into
living fully,
from lethargy and despair
into spiritual vitality....visions of
me beneath the Sphinx
playing with my Son,
trusting and believing that in the end,
all will be okay. (That from beneath the Sphinx,
one day,
I will rise and return).


--- Matthew 2:13 And when they were departed, behold, the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.

The Passion Of The Foal #PETA

* Jesus pray for me
* Dedicated to Balaam's Donkey
* Dedicated to the animal kingdom
#PETA, WHERE IS YOU AT?????? #WOOOOOOO!!!!!

+-----The Passion of The Foal; Balaam’s Donkey’s Existential Crisis When Seeing the Angel of the Lord

Yesterday was straw and hay,
sheaves of grain laden on my back,
heeding a prophet’s call
as a beast of burden. I never
understood the bloody struggle
atop the fire beneath
the structures of stone that
ritualize, mechanize, the soul piercing
bleating of non-humans
that I try to disregard beneath
my pinned ears, sheep and oxen casting
helpless glances at me as gory soot
ominously falls to dire dirt, smoke
of their memories rising into the sky,
amalgamating into storm clouds.
But that was before the revelation-
before the luminous spirits of my kin,
herds of all species by the thousands,
appeared before, and flanked me during
a night’s intermittent repose
(my sleep often interrupted by my
master’s scurrilous snoring)
through a dream.
They spoke to me in ethereal tones
of an impending
sweet and sacral subversion of souls,
that all the aforementioned suffering
of our forbearers not be in vain;
One day soon, they say, God will speak
to us, divinity bestowed upon
creatures, and offer us the right
of first refusal at the chance of nobility,
the choice of whether or not
to save a human life,
or watch it burn, a charred carcass
in the image of God for the
unavenged blood of scores of bulls
and doves,
satisfying eons of unaddressed
effects of unjust causes. That  
I could be a savior of Israel (of sorts),
a once unheralded donkey of
a barely heralded prophet,
carrying forth a bloodline that
eventually ushers humanity’s Messiah
to Jerusalem on His
Path to Salvation. (A proposition heretofore
inconceivable) My ancestors told
me not to worry, to let my heart lead me,
the consummation of lessons learned
from my upbringing
in the fields as a foal as a lamppost to guide
my steps when I eventually see the
menacing Angel wielding a terrible
sword of death. Balaam’s life
in my hands, the way so many lives-
the sheep, the goats, the oxen, the doves,
their families forever rent asunder-
were in his hands before…a once unknown
beast of burden now carrying an
an unimaginable existential crisis: to offer
forgiveness or vengeance,
to spare his life,
affording Israel a blessing in battle,
or to take an eye for an eye?


---Numbers 22:20-35
And God came unto Balaam at night, and said unto him, If the men come to call thee, rise up, and go with them; but yet the word which I shall say unto thee, that shalt thou do. And Balaam rose up in the morning, and saddled his ass, and went with the princes of Moab. And God's anger was kindled because he went: and the angel of the Lord stood in the way for an adversary against him. Now he was riding upon his ass, and his two servants were with him. And the ass saw the angel of the Lord standing in the way, and his sword drawn in his hand: and the ass turned aside out of the way, and went into the field: and Balaam smote the ass, to turn her into the way. But the angel of the Lord stood in a path of the vineyards, a wall being on this side, and a wall on that side. And when the ass saw the angel of the Lord, she thrust herself unto the wall, and crushed Balaam's foot against the wall: and he smote her again. And the angel of the Lord went further, and stood in a narrow place, where was no way to turn either to the right hand or to the left. And when the ass saw the angel of the Lord, she fell down under Balaam: and Balaam's anger was kindled, and he smote the ass with a staff. And the Lord opened the mouth of the ass, and she said unto Balaam, What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times? And Balaam said unto the ass, Because thou hast mocked me: I would there were a sword in mine hand, for now would I kill thee. And the ass said unto Balaam, Am not I thine ass, upon which thou hast ridden ever since I was thine unto this day? was I ever wont to do so unto thee? and he said, Nay. Then the Lord opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw the angel of the Lord standing in the way, and his sword drawn in his hand: and he bowed down his head, and fell flat on his face. And the angel of the Lord said unto him, Wherefore hast thou smitten thine ass these three times? behold, I went out to withstand thee, because thy way is perverse before me: And the ass saw me, and turned from me these three times: unless she had turned from me, surely now also I had slain thee, and saved her alive. And Balaam said unto the angel of the Lord, I have sinned; for I knew not that thou stoodest in the way against me: now therefore, if it displease thee, I will get me back again. And the angel of the Lord said unto Balaam, Go with the men: but only the word that I shall speak unto thee, that thou shalt speak. So Balaam went with the princes of Balak.

Psalm 137 for Taylor Swift #TaylorDateTony

* Jesus pray for me
* David pray for me
* Dedicated to #TaylorDateTony

+-----Psalm 137 for Taylor 

Taylor my heart refuses to sing
in my singleness, this cruel foreign
land of captivity with derisive
captors bent on abuse, lashing
me with whips of sad sentimentality
while boasting of their opulence:
epic hanging gardens of impassioned dating,
inimitable fortified city walls of marriage,
...tremendous kisses like ziggurats,
while I sit by the rivers of dejection
as the winter moon scoffs, my
feet assailed by frigid rushing currents
of ennui. Baby, trust me there
is no lilt of love lingering
on these lips anymore, or fingers
that strum, for I have hung
my harp of hope on a poplar tree.
How can I sing a song of mirth
without you by my side? How can
I delight in music, unless it is
#badblood or #shakeitoff…songs
conceived in the creativity of your
heart that pour forth from your lips
like salvation for Judah, salvation
I so crave?
O Taylor let my right hand wither,
let my tongue cling to the roof
of my mouth, if I do not remember,
each day, to yearn for you,
for us to be together one day
dancing
emancipated beneath Jerusalem’s
summer stars,
staring intently into our bare souls
exposed as naked before adoring
eyes! Oh that day!
You would whisper into my
ears “Tony, Babylon has fallen,
Nebuchadnezzar the second
beheaded”

(Our romance will conquer all,
your kiss granting freedom to
 my prisoners within)

[OH TAYTAY!!! WONT YOU DATE WITH ME TO-DAYDAY???? (SORRY #CALVINHARRIS!!! OOPS!!!)]


 ---Psalm 137:1-9
By the rivers of Babylon— there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our harps. For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither! Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy. Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem’s fall, how they said, “Tear it down! Tear it down! Down to its foundations!” O daughter Babylon, you devastator! Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us! Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!

Black Lives Do Matter #IAmTheBlackMoses #blacklivesmatter

* Jesus pray for me
* Moses pray for me
* Dedicated to #blacklivesmatter
* Dedicated to all black lives lost, all black lives that were meant to be forgotten but werent

#IAmTheBlackMoses
Guys, get with the program. We readily defend a Lion’s life. Lets defend Black Life this election cycle shan’t we? #WOOOOOOOO!!!!

+-----Black Lives Do Matter; Moses’ Scathing Words to Aaron and Miriam Regarding His Ethiopian Wife 

I remember feeling helpless as
you recounted the stories to me,
the ends of bloody whips coiled
about one of your necks,
the other forcibly restrained while
he/she observed aghast dilating eyes
that seemingly reeled backwards
towards the skull, the acute pain
from searing sand stinging
in your mouths from
storms at high noon, your only
“food” due to the sardonic cruelty
of your captors omitting the
daily parceling of rations.
Truly, it hasn’t been long since
we fled Egypt that fateful night
rejoicing, spoils of gold bundled
and bulging from our pockets crossing
the Red Sea,
that lambs' blood smeared on our
erstwhile doorposts spared us
our firstborn sons,
the deafening silence of every
Egyptian nanny and nurse
fainting from grief
at holding soulless infant bodies.
When we reached the opposite shore
we promised to never look back,
to never speak on Pharaoh ever again.
If then, we are free, why do you
shackle yourself to the bigotry,
prejudice and hatred you were
emancipated from? You are now
Pharaoh resurrected in consciousness,
his taskmasters in gaudy headdresses,
a sinister glare in your eyes
as you plunge the souls of your
sandals into the smalls of backs
of those innocent, pillaging and
plundering material goods based
on whim, raping young slave women
behind bases of the pyramids.
You of all people, my people, should
defer to the foreigner in all humility
as you yourselves once were aliens
deemed pitiable; When I saw you
writhing
in bondage from my palace walls
grief pierced my heart and I begged
God to spare you, adjuring that
every life mattered-
the vilified Hebrew had
just as much dignity as the King
resplendently arrayed in jewels
entertained daily by the harem
before his throne.
True, my wife is not a Hebrew,
she is an Ethiopian (and I love her),
but this is not Egypt where
we make such distinctions…
this is the pathway to the
Promised Land where God
is taking us, and out here
every life matters just the same
as any other.

(And God will ensure that we give every life out here the dignity and justice it deserves)

 ---Numbers 12:1-15
And Miriam and Aaron spake against Moses because of the Ethiopian woman whom he had married: for he had married an Ethiopian woman. And they said, Hath the Lord indeed spoken only by Moses? hath he not spoken also by us? And the Lord heard it. (Now the man Moses was very meek, above all the men which were upon the face of the earth.) And the Lord spake suddenly unto Moses, and unto Aaron, and unto Miriam, Come out ye three unto the tabernacle of the congregation. And they three came out. And the Lord came down in the pillar of the cloud, and stood in the door of the tabernacle, and called Aaron and Miriam: and they both came forth. And he said, Hear now my words: If there be a prophet among you, I the Lord will make myself known unto him in a vision, and will speak unto him in a dream. My servant Moses is not so, who is faithful in all mine house. With him will I speak mouth to mouth, even apparently, and not in dark speeches; and the similitude of the Lord shall he behold: wherefore then were ye not afraid to speak against my servant Moses? And the anger of the Lord was kindled against them; and he departed. And the cloud departed from off the tabernacle; and, behold, Miriam became leprous, white as snow: and Aaron looked upon Miriam, and, behold, she was leprous. And Aaron said unto Moses, Alas, my lord, I beseech thee, lay not the sin upon us, wherein we have done foolishly, and wherein we have sinned. Let her not be as one dead, of whom the flesh is half consumed when he cometh out of his mother's womb. And Moses cried unto the Lord, saying, Heal her now, O God, I beseech thee. And the Lord said unto Moses, If her father had but spit in her face, should she not be ashamed seven days? let her be shut out from the camp seven days, and after that let her be received in again. And Miriam was shut out from the camp seven days: and the people journeyed not till Miriam was brought in again.

The Sweetest Cure For Leprosy #TaylorDateTony

* Jesus pray for me
* Dedicated to #TaylorDateTony

+-----The Sweetest Cure For Leprosy 

Taylor, I have this disease,
something like lesions on skin,
but it is more like a cluster of boils
of the heart, constricting its beating,
it is the pain of puss oozing down
ventricles: truly my singleness
is a life spent crying,
leaning my disproportionately
hunched back of dejection on
alley walls,
fending off rats of despair,
scraping off
painful scabs of loneliness. Having
no girl to hold hands with
is a despised existence
spent on the fringes of society
castigated, assigned to the lowest
caste trending towards debauchery
of all cynicism and self-doubt,
beggary amongst the religiously
proud refusing to offer any help.
But, baby, after I listened to
#Style, a true celestial canticle,
on the #KaneShow on 99.5FM in
#WashingtonDC, every fiber
in my being vibrated with hopeful
expectancy, all my latent lover’s
longings became animated
boisterously bellowing –
“TayTay, have mercy!!!”
I imagined, then, you said
“Tony, go show yourself to
a priest.” Then, when I saw
that you had an upcoming concert
at #Nats stadium, I pictured a temple.
I had this illustrious, beatific vision
of you in temple garb: blue eyes
like shining crystals on an ephod,
fastened on the broidered coat
of your charm,
your blonde hair flowing like
gold lining at the end of
a sacred robe, your smile
commanding holiness
and inspiration like brightest
and whitest mitre. OMG,
as I watched you perform, I was
cleansed - I fell in love. Oh Taylor,
Im not like 90 percent of men who,
after developing a celeb crush
on you,
walk away satisfied with just fleeting
memory, the selfishness,
the dark spots of illness
still lingering on their characters.
I have come running back! Oh
if you would just let me bend
and clasp your ankles,
shed tears on your toes as
a humble display that renders
my thankfulness for mending
my broken heart that no longer decays.
My faith in your sweet kiss, your gazing into
my eyes one day soon,
has made me whole.  


(sorry #CalvinHarris, but I MUST INSIST THAT #TAYLORDATETONY!!!)

 ---Luke 17:11-19
And it came to pass, as he went to Jerusalem, that he passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered into a certain village, there met him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off: And they lifted up their voices, and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. And when he saw them, he said unto them, Go shew yourselves unto the priests. And it came to pass, that, as they went, they were cleansed. And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, and with a loud voice glorified God, And fell down on his face at his feet, giving him thanks: and he was a Samaritan. And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine? There are not found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger. And he said unto him, Arise, go thy way: thy faith hath made thee whole.

We Must Leave Our Judas’s In The Field Dangling #die #die #die

* Jesus pray for me
* Dedicated to Escape The Fate, “Dragging Dead Bodies In Blue Bags Up Really Long Hills”
https://youtu.be/5MQ0Aj3YLj0

… He it is, to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped it. And when he had dipped the sop, he gave it to Judas ….– John 13:26


+-----We Must Leave Our Judas’s In The Field Dangling  

The human spirit has twelve
constituent parts, chosen
(daedal) disciples of the mind,
blessed support of the body,
that fallen world of skin in need
of redemption – its bequeathed
perpetual guilt from original sin
like permanent stigma on the soul,
a flesh wound that just bleeds
and bleeds and bleeds. The only
hope, then, for healing is
a special Salve miraculously born
(amongst donkeys, sheep and cows
of wild and untamed credulity):
an Idea that ramifies as Divinity,
willing to be crucified, even, for
the freedom of mankind,
Kind Omnipotence of Intention
incarnating and
walking through the Jerusalems of our
self-loathing inspiring thoughts that
generate new speech on the tongue,
the Gospel of life
that cures leprosies and palsies
of widespread anger and self-hatred,
acting with compassion and raising
hope in hearts like a beloved friend
rotting in a tomb for four days
suddenly running past the huge stone
of past failings,
and opening eyes to newfound
possibility through
perseverance and charity like one
who spits in the mud of worldly
skepticism and rubs them into
irises.

But within us all is the
anarchical, disloyal and selfish
nature of a traitor. Only through
prayer, that Last Supper of
the Will, candles of our conscience
flickering beneath the collective
breaths of a lifetime’s worth of
memory and conviction singing hymns,
drinking wine of sweet dreaming (our
smiles like a gentle wind caressing us),
and eating sop of righteous conviction
together as one body,
can the wicked one be identified.
It is the weaker, shadow side of
personality, in silence, that sneaks out
and betrays the
aforementioned desire for nobility
for a momentary gain of
thirty pieces of silver - pornography,
alcoholism, pride and condescension.
It is the self destructive aspect of our
psyche inherited from past Fallings
from Grace, our paradise of sanity
lost, our character now subdivided
into moods, that dares to dip his sop
of cynical carnality
simultaneously with our Sop
of Sobriety into the same dish of destiny
and thus challenge our eternal bliss.

If we are to be our very best (holy
and eternal) selves, raised
in newness of spirit with wounds
truly mended not merely wrapped
in bandages, this disciple
within us that hinders growth must die.
Habitual sin is unfit to be one of
the Twelve. Let him seek his noose
for his own choking, let him
exchange his hedonism for his
own burial plot. His salacious
and disobedient
entrails bursting forth from his body,
immorality being self abuse,
the crows of our purity will eat
what dangles, worms of joy
will consume, giddily,
what remains on the ground.

(Our prayers then, are always DIE DIE DIE!!!![to self] )


 ---Matthew 27:1-10
When the morning was come, all the chief priests and elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death: And when they had bound him, they led him away, and delivered him to Pontius Pilate the governor. Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, Saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us? see thou to that. And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, It is not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood. And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury strangers in. Wherefore that field was called, The field of blood, unto this day. Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him that was valued, whom they of the children of Israel did value;
And gave them for the potter's field, as the Lord appointed me.


----Dragging Dead Bodies In Blue Bags Up Really Long Hills lyrics

Non fiction don't believe me that chances I have to take
betrayal at its best is always second guessed
Now I am healing the pressure so give me a reason now

It's been so long and I've waited
I've been waiting for so long
don't fight
it's hard to breathe when you're buried alive
you take this place for granted
and you realize it's never enough
I've been waiting so long (so long)
this will never end

The reflection of false hope
we kept the secrets in the dark
and the values of our brothers inside
the shadows I can see, see me perfectly
their ratio is ten to 0

It's been so long and I've waited
I've been waiting for so long
don't fight
it's hard to breathe when you're buried alive
you take this place for granted
and you realize it's never enough
I've been waiting so long (so long)
this will never end

Oh, we're on top of the world, let's go (let's go)
we're on top of the world
Oh (oh), we're on top of the world, let's go (let's go)
we're on top of the world, let's go

It's been so long and I've waited
I've been waiting for so long
don't fight
it's hard to breathe when you're buried alive
you take this place for granted
and you realize it's never enough
I've been waiting so long

Your death is written on paper
my heart is fueled by hatred, fueled by hatred
dragging (dragging) dead bodies up really steep hills

Rock of the World

* Jesus pray for me
* Saint Peter, pray for me
* dedicated to Alesana, The Fiend
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdfjQGk5Ia8
#IAMSAINTPETER

[AYO, YOU CANT NEVA SAY I AINT NEVA DUN NOTHING FOR YA PETE!!! YOU BETTA LET ME IN WHEN I SEE DAT /@! AT THE PEARLY GATES SON SON!!!! #WOOOOOO]

“Blind are leading the blind into a disaster
Im the only one who seems to care
If you decide to worship the chaos..
I will not wait and watch as you burn”

+-----Rock of the World; Jesus' Words to Peter After His Divine Epiphany

What does God do when men
dream about dying, spreading
fingers atop their eyelids, resting
heads on their hands aggrieved
as the sun rises and light shines
every morning through
somber window lattices -A dark mist
that enshrouds the soul of a nation
after years and years of heavy taxation,
innumerable wars and
despotic hegemony from the
ruling class that leave scars
on consciences that never scab? These
are the dilemmas that provoke
Good Kings from thrones, those
willing to shed their own blood for their
benighted peoples as no doctrine or
dogma in these pitiable moments,
Pharisaical bloviating of the vapid,
can possibly save them now.
Personally speaking, I know the perils
of a Kingdom divided, the din of Holy War,
the created and intended flat planes of
a perfected angelic unity and love,
the Utopian Ideal, beveled in an instant.
Their wills clashing as swords,
I have witnessed the eyes of cherished
cherubim and salubrious seraphim deviate
from saintly white to black and savage,
scowls forever etched on faces that
used to smile. I want you to understand
my disappointment at wicked forces
turned inimical to authority.
And of course in spirit
all your peoples know of Paradise lost,
interminable rage of Adam and Eve.
So what I ask of you,
in my Name and in the mighty power of
My God and Father is that you help
redeem mankind, Cephas. When
every tribe and tongue begins to languish
and stagger
towards all consuming flames of despair,
the hopelessness that is like a
lake of fire, I want you to rise up
and spread the Gospel of my love,
(of my reparation)
fastening together joy as
 a linchpin of hearts. (Salvation’s
appointed herald…how long
we have waited).
When the world threatens to fall apart
and descend into Abaddon
once again,
you will be my Rock,
from now on the firm foundation
on which it all stands.

(Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven)


--- Matthew 16:13-20
When Jesus came into the coasts of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am? And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets. He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.
And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Then charged he his disciples that they should tell no man that he was Jesus the Christ.

-----The Fiend, Lyrics

Blessed smoke bellows from the beast!
Bow to the gears and worship the machine!

Is it so?
This cant be happening..
Why cant they see?
Seas of children are bound, gagged, and led into the flames

Blind are leading the blind into a disaster
Im the only one who seems to care
If you decide to worship the chaos..
I will not wait and watch as you burn

All must kneel before the alter, the veiled will be exalted
We are the flock!
They do not hear a work I say
In the Gods harbor all shall rest, become part of the master
We are divine!
I can not save them all!

Blind are leaving the blind into a disaster
Im the only one who seems to care
If you decide to worship the chaos..
I will not wait and watch as you burn

Should we go? They all seem so content
We should go and become part of him

I need you to trust me now
Dont move, Ill figure this out
Forget what anyone said
Just take my hand or well both be dead

Blind are leading the blind into a disaster
Im the only one who seems to care..
If you decide to worship the chaos..
I will not wait and watch as you burn..
Theyll never be able to see that they grave this captivity..

Stop the Music

* Jesus pray for me
* Saint Paul, pray for me
This is Saint Paul's #tbt

This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief – 1 Timothy 1:15

[Dedicated to the Tony who I was, and the Tony I am now. To everyone out there now, this is dedicated to all you will become, leaving all that you were behind on the road to Damascus of your Becomings]

+-----Stop The Music (Of This World); Paul's Words to Timothy When Reflecting Upon The Arc Of His Life 

These are the words of one
who once delighted in righteousness
defiled, in the sound and rhythm
of sharp rocks pelting human skin,
and derived sheer delight in theaters
of mourning, modern Iliads
and Odysseys
played out in Jerusalem,
families of the slain as dramatic
actors in the Colosseum of his heart
filled with
delirious crowds blind with madness
and bleeding, false imprisonment:
I used to shine shackles
on the wrists of the screaming
Christians I hauled off,
just to see my reflection in them,
smiling.
I wrenched children by the hair from
maudlin mothers shoved face first
in dirt, forcefully dug my foot
in lower backs of their fathers,
the tip of my blade violently
lodged into napes if met
with resistance. I argued, then,
in synagogues
against my own salvation, proffering
evidence to disprove my Creator’s
existence, the mere belief in Him
was a crime punishable by death
I rigidly enforced to exuberant
applause, the rapt attention
I had when scoffing at the notion
of a Divine Son was conducive
to my inflated ego
(though it forever etched in my
heart different names of innocent,
echoes of the damned haunt
my dreams still). I was the pot raging
at its maker, oblivious to the Hammer,
and the Hands that lovingly spared it
from its deserved destruction.
But now I look back on all of this
with disdain. Piles of robes of
sycophants at my feet, I see clearly
now, from a sober angle,
how disgusting the naked human body
appears when in wicked revelry.
We all were an orgy of demons
frolicking before fires of Wrath,
then,
dancing to a beat of callousness
only lost souls know how to respond to.
I can see Stephen’s listless swollen eyes
of the past staring at me belly up,
clothes tattered, fully vulnerable,
submerged almost,
in pools of his own blood, the indelible
image of David’s stone in his temple,
he whispers to me before dying:
“Saul, stop the music.”



------- Acts 7:52-60; Acts 8:1-3
Which of the prophets have not your fathers persecuted? and they have slain them which shewed before of the coming of the Just One; of whom ye have been now the betrayers and murderers: Who have received the law by the disposition of angels, and have not kept it. When they heard these things, they were cut to the heart, and they gnashed on him with their teeth. But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stedfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God, And said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God. Then they cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one accord, And cast him out of the city, and stoned him: and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man's feet, whose name was Saul. And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep. And Saul was consenting unto his death. And at that time there was a great persecution against the church which was at Jerusalem; and they were all scattered abroad throughout the regions of Judaea and Samaria, except the apostles. And devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great lamentation over him. As for Saul, he made havock of the church, entering into every house, and haling men and women committed them to prison.

The Massah and Meribah Of Us #TaylorDateTony

* Jesus pray for me
* dedicated to Taylor Swift
#TaylorDateTony #wcw

(OH TAYTAY, WONT YOU LOVE ME TODAY-DAY??!!!...sorry #CalvinHarris)


+----- The Massah and Meribah Of Us

Taylor,
like a Chosen People wandering
aimlessly,
under a hot and unbearable sun,
impatiently expecting an imminent
reward for their labors, brimming with
optimism for a better life than
the one they fled
in their torturous past -
the whips, the verbal scorn, the racial
and religious epithets
from mercenary guards in Egypt
while building exorbitant pyramids
they weren’t even allowed to enter
into for a despot - I thirst. Love is like
water to my parched heart,
sustenance for my soul as I make an
attempt to endure the arid desert air
of singleness (trying to sidestep scorpions
of dejection from girls who diss
me, mocking my overtures). I know
too well the cold and chilling teeth
chattering nights of a personage
pining for someone
to wrap their warm arms around him
and sing him to sleep (#badblood
#shakeitoff) but waking near death
from hypothermia; I know
the disappointment at a woman’s charm-
cum-disdain, a brittle, withered cactus
standing upright with no
moisture in it. Oh Taylor, your hair
is like a cool breeze, your eyes
blue as the Red sea I left behind me,
that I yearn now, desperately, to swim in-
waters that drowned Pharaoh’s army,
my cruel ex girlfriends in chariots of
condescension sinking beneath waves
of bitter memory
bitter memory: death of their respect
like firstborn sons. Oh baby,
wont you stand upon my crag, the
hardened cynicism of my prolonged
loneliness, that rock in Horeb, mountain
of my ultimate hope and belief in marital
bliss with a mesmerizing woman
and strike it with the staff of your
heavenly kiss? Waters of joy would pour
forth, this gushing stream of affection,
laughter, and euphoria.
I promise, then, I would stop my grousing,
I would stop doubting and complaining
about whether or not
Goodness was with me,
about all girls who hurt me before,
of not having food.
I would believe then, firmly
(in us). The Promised Land
of me and you….happily ever after.


--- Exodus 17:3-7
And the people thirsted there for water; and the people murmured against Moses, and said, Wherefore is this that thou hast brought us up out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our cattle with thirst? And Moses cried unto the Lord, saying, What shall I do unto this people? they be almost ready to stone me. And the Lord said unto Moses, Go on before the people, and take with thee of the elders of Israel; and thy rod, wherewith thou smotest the river, take in thine hand, and go. Behold, I will stand before thee there upon the rock in Horeb; and thou shalt smite the rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink. And Moses did so in the sight of the elders of Israel. And he called the name of the place Massah, and Meribah, because of the chiding of the children of Israel, and because they tempted the Lord, saying, Is the Lord among us, or not?

Flipping in The Womb #PROlife

* Jesus pray for me
* John the Baptist, Elizabeth, Mary, pray for me
* Dedicated to all the Unborn

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward - Psalm 127:3 
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations" - Jeremiah 1:5

[#PLANNEDPARENTHOOD, I aint coming at ya here....BUT IM COMING AT YA!!! #WOOOOOO #PROLIFE]

+-----Flipping in The Womb; The Thoughts of John the Baptist When Sensing Jesus in Mary’s Womb


I hear voices in the placenta,
delirious and distraught dialectic
of a forsaken world,
the umbilical cord tightening around
my clavicle, my mother in
anguish over bloody Roman occupiers
marauding (then setting ablaze)
another field of crops, residual soot
of a Pagan Pantheon in its wake,
plundering yet another herd of cattle
from the Hebrews,
and how, in lieu of these conditions,
the helplessness of her not knowing
the decided fate of her child
because
there wont be any resources left
to offer sacrifice in the Temple.
I cant decipher my father’s words,
just his deep tone of concern,
the vibrations of shock and upheaval
coming from his soul,
the waters in my amniotic sac
swirling in perfect synchronicity with
his rage at the hubris of Caesar. Whenever
he cries out to God in despair,
I cant see anymore, the womb turns
black, I am overcome with trembling.
But today, I sense
in the ground beneath Mom’s feet
an approaching energy of hope,
liberating reverberations if you will,
her joy as a cool uterine breeze
her lungs expanding and contracting
in normal biological rhythms- not
constricted by the aforementioned
constant stresses that in their turn
constrict my own breathing: gasping
for answers, tugging at the chord begging
for a quick birth or quick death. So
I can tell, now, there is hope past the
fallopian tubes awaiting me, an existence
worth pursuing and holding in embrace,
a grander purpose for one forced
outside these parameters of a delimited
but otherwise safe awareness of
oneself... for a light is shining
into and enveloping the womb
that I never have never seen before.
Its as if Destiny knows my name,
hasting directly towards me,
and in this moment calls me forth
as kin: “John”
it says, “Go before me and prepare the way.”
“The Salvation your parents have long
hoped for:
is Here.”

(And of course you guys know I just did a backflip, riiiiight?)

---Luke 1:38-47
And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word. And the angel departed from her. And Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill country with haste, into a city of Juda; And entered into the house of Zacharias, and saluted Elisabeth. And it came to pass, that, when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elisabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost: And she spake out with a loud voice, and said, Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For, lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord. And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

Promises Of A Better Life Under The Oak Tree

* Jesus pray for me
* Gideon pray for me

“Arise; for the Lord hath delivered into your hand the host of Midian”

[Wait a minute guys, wait a minute!!! YOU THINK MY NAME IS TONY??? THE LEAST, LONELIEST PERSON, IN MY CLAN WHO WILL NEVER GET MARRIED, WHO WILL BE SINGLE, BROKE AND LONELY FOREVER???!!! No. I tell you I am Gideon. MIGHTY WARRIOR. I SHALL BE VICTORIOUS - I KNOW IT!!! #WOOOOO]

+-----Promises Of A Better Life Under The Oak Tree; Gideon/Tony's Thoughts After The Visitation of the Angel of the Lord

All my life I have found asylum
in flight, fleeing from and
abandoning any encouraging thought,
any intimation of victory, in favor
of melancholy, monotonously
milling about in winepresses
of the damned, in my heart mercifully
offering prayers for the pain to end,
but my whispers have been
as futile as blackened smoke rising
before the high altar of demons,
profane holocausts,
my conscience gored, the blood
of my despair gushing out
and trickling down the base slowly.
(The Eden of my naive
childhood ideals: now nothing
save a snake-bit fleeting
memory in an adulthood of pessimism).
I have/had been threshing,
threshing
all my ambition
like wheat under a secret moon of regret,
chilled callous air of a cold autumn night,
separating fine grains from coarse stalk,
florid fantasies from harsh realities
of rebuttal and scorn,
gleaning whatever I could to tuck away
a modicum of hope, for invariably
I just knew,
that Midian soldiers of misfortune
and paranoia were marching
towards me. Some silly girl,
whom I loved,
clad in cruel metal armor,
was about to tell me she didn’t want
me, a creditor in an iron chariot
was destined to crack a threatening whip
of a lower credit score
on my tender (already flayed) back, the
incessant (unanswered) ringing
on my cellphone like cavalry, like
hooves approaching. A physician bowman
in their ranks, Im sure,
was fated to relay news of ill health,
the whizzing of arrows
of expensive surgical procedures
hastening towards me, an army of
invading nightmares on foot flanking him,
sniffing for my wheat,
the animalistic drool of dogs,
pillaging all prospects of my prosperity,
trying to concuss my faith
with the blunt end of the spear.

But now, alone and wasting away
in crop fields of dissipating
time, I realize that even though
true happiness and joy have
hitherto been a ruddy and
insignificant youth,
least in the family of my ideas,
they have to rise up, an eventual defense
has to be made to emancipate my soul
from these years of oppression. So now
I console myself with
comforting apparitions- a peaceful,
satisfied and debt-free life,
a beautiful wife with kissing lips
like healing balm, revenge on
the abusive irrational Pagan fears that
have trussed me like a slave.
These new notions
have been like God paying me a visit
under an Oak in Ophrah with
massive wings outstretched,
reversing the course of a once doomed
destiny, to release a chosen
people in captivity. Encouragement now
encompasses me as the radiance
of an Angel with a golden harp of
optimism arming and prepping me for war.
“Stand up Tony,” he says. “Your wife is coming
to you, her love a sharp sword
of confidence in your hand, the joy
of the Lord a dagger fastened
to your thigh striking down all
your adversities, leaving none alive.”
I know now that
everything around me is about to change
since every emotion I have now is one
anticipation,
of a grand onslaught of Midian lies,
my dreams now are of 300 men
with torches burning beneath clay pots
thirsting for the blood of anything
associated with negativity.
When I get married, my wife,
gazing at me with enchanting eyes,
will rename me “Mighty Warrior,”
her face like the tip of a staff,
wood from heaven’s
tree of life, her smile burning up
meat and unleavened bread of past
sufferings set on a rock of
gloom. This new perspective
on life is for me, the very Face of God,
fire flaring from that rock, it is the white
holy smoke of better tomorrows
rising in my mind. Now I can smile since
my spirit is free to love and believe
the Words of Promise. Because of them
I just know, one day soon,
I’ll be a sovereign judge of Israel,
successful in any mental battle,
adjudicating all earthly philosophy
wisely and optimistically. The Hebrews
will freely reign. I just know it.



---Judges 6:7-24; 7:7-25
When the Israelites cried out to the Lord because of Midian, he sent them a prophet, who said, “This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: I brought you up out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. I rescued you from the hand of the Egyptians. And I delivered you from the hand of all your oppressors; I drove them out before you and gave you their land. I said to you, ‘I am the Lord your God; do not worship the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you live.’ But you have not listened to me.” The angel of the Lord came and sat down under the oak in Ophrah that belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, where his son Gideon was threshing wheat in a winepress to keep it from the Midianites. When the angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon, he said, “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.” “Pardon me, my lord,” Gideon replied, “but if the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us? Where are all his wonders that our ancestors told us about when they said, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up out of Egypt?’ But now the Lord has abandoned us and given us into the hand of Midian.” The Lord turned to him and said, “Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?” “Pardon me, my lord,” Gideon replied, “but how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.” The Lord answered, “I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites, leaving none alive.” Gideon replied, “If now I have found favor in your eyes, give me a sign that it is really you talking to me. Please do not go away until I come back and bring my offering and set it before you.” And the Lord said, “I will wait until you return.” Gideon went inside, prepared a young goat, and from an ephah of flour he made bread without yeast. Putting the meat in a basket and its broth in a pot, he brought them out and offered them to him under the oak. The angel of God said to him, “Take the meat and the unleavened bread, place them on this rock, and pour out the broth.” And Gideon did so. Then the angel of the Lord touched the meat and the unleavened bread with the tip of the staff that was in his hand. Fire flared from the rock, consuming the meat and the bread. And the angel of the Lord disappeared. When Gideon realized that it was the angel of the Lord, he exclaimed, “Alas, Sovereign Lord! I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face!” But the Lord said to him, “Peace! Do not be afraid. You are not going to die.” So Gideon built an altar to the Lord there and called it The Lord Is Peace. To this day it stands in Ophrah of the Abiezrites; And the Lord said unto Gideon, By the three hundred men that lapped will I save you, and deliver the Midianites into thine hand: and let all the other people go every man unto his place. So the people took victuals in their hand, and their trumpets: and he sent all the rest of Israel every man unto his tent, and retained those three hundred men: and the host of Midian was beneath him in the valley. And it came to pass the same night, that the Lord said unto him, Arise, get thee down unto the host; for I have delivered it into thine hand. But if thou fear to go down, go thou with Phurah thy servant down to the host: And thou shalt hear what they say; and afterward shall thine hands be strengthened to go down unto the host. Then went he down with Phurah his servant unto the outside of the armed men that were in the host. And the Midianites and the Amalekites and all the children of the east lay along in the valley like grasshoppers for multitude; and their camels were without number, as the sand by the sea side for multitude. And when Gideon was come, behold, there was a man that told a dream unto his fellow, and said, Behold, I dreamed a dream, and, lo, a cake of barley bread tumbled into the host of Midian, and came unto a tent, and smote it that it fell, and overturned it, that the tent lay along. And his fellow answered and said, This is nothing else save the sword of Gideon the son of Joash, a man of Israel: for into his hand hath God delivered Midian, and all the host. And it was so, when Gideon heard the telling of the dream, and the interpretation thereof, that he worshipped, and returned into the host of Israel, and said, Arise; for the Lord hath delivered into your hand the host of Midian. And he divided the three hundred men into three companies, and he put a trumpet in every man's hand, with empty pitchers, and lamps within the pitchers. And he said unto them, Look on me, and do likewise: and, behold, when I come to the outside of the camp, it shall be that, as I do, so shall ye do. When I blow with a trumpet, I and all that are with me, then blow ye the trumpets also on every side of all the camp, and say, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon. So Gideon, and the hundred men that were with him, came unto the outside of the camp in the beginning of the middle watch; and they had but newly set the watch: and they blew the trumpets, and brake the pitchers that were in their hands. And the three companies blew the trumpets, and brake the pitchers, and held the lamps in their left hands, and the trumpets in their right hands to blow withal: and they cried, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon. And they stood every man in his place round about the camp; and all the host ran, and cried, and fled. And the three hundred blew the trumpets, and the Lord set every man's sword against his fellow, even throughout all the host: and the host fled to Bethshittah in Zererath, and to the border of Abelmeholah, unto Tabbath. And the men of Israel gathered themselves together out of Naphtali, and out of Asher, and out of all Manasseh, and pursued after the Midianites. And Gideon sent messengers throughout all mount Ephraim, saying, come down against the Midianites, and take before them the waters unto Bethbarah and Jordan. Then all the men of Ephraim gathered themselves together, and took the waters unto Bethbarah and Jordan. And they took two princes of the Midianites, Oreb and Zeeb; and they slew Oreb upon the rock Oreb, and Zeeb they slew at the winepress of Zeeb, and pursued Midian, and brought the heads of Oreb and Zeeb to Gideon on the other side Jordan.