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.