Easter Poem

[poliphilo]

On Being Asked For An Easter Poem

The body once dead is- within four minutes I think- so much unusable carbon and water.
I don't like to think of that body on its ledge degrading.
I wouldn't have turned up three days later like Mary Magdalen.
I'd have been thinking- eugh gross!

So that miracle doesn't fly for me. I cannot feel it here
(thumps chest.)
I cannot think that anyone met Christ in a garden after his death.

I believe in ghosts but that's another matter.

In a churchyard in Kent there was a gravestone with a carving of the Noli Me Tangere.
It was dead clumsy.
Mary had huge hands and Christ, mistaken for the gardener, was leaning on a spade.
Last time I paid it a visit Mary's face had sheared off.
Loose knit stone, Easily carved, easily un-carved. Rub it with your thumb and you get a smear of Ordovician mud on the skin.

Nothing comes back as it once was. Nothing. That's the economy of Terra. There are only so many atoms whizzing around and they are continually being reconfigured. Nothing is lost but everything is remade. And the new thing is not the old thing come back. Does it remember what it once was? Does it hell!

Never before
Never again.

That's the song the midges sing, twirling under the overhang. How long do they last- minutes?

The body drops into dust and the dust is good for something- I don't know what.

It makes the weeds in the garden grow.

Yes, why not!

It makes the weeds in the garden grow.

Comments

[jenny_evergreen]

Oh, I like that one, I do.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Thanks. A clergyman friend asked for an easter poem.

I never turn down a challenge, but this was the best I could do. I don't suppose he'll like it.

[halfmoon-mollie.livejournal.com]

Never before
Never again.

That's the song the midges sing, twirling under the overhang. How long do they last- minutes?

The body drops into dust and the dust is good for something- I don't know what.

It makes the weeds in the garden grow.

Yes, why not!

It makes the weeds in the garden grow.

I really like this one, as well. States your views, no apologies.

I love the way you use your words...

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Thanks.

I tried to write something more upbeat, but this is what came through...

[halfmoon-mollie.livejournal.com]

Then it's as it should be. What comes through...that's usually your best.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

That's entirely true.

You can't force a poem.

You have to let it dictate itself.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

So much to think about!

That is why I love your poetry.

And you always surprise me with a sudden image.

I'll be thinking about midges twirling all day.

And:

Quoth the raven: Nevermore.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I love midges.

They manage to spin in formation, making a kind of egg shape in the air that distorts but never breaks.

How do they do it?

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

A poem with a song inside it:


Never before
Never again.

That's the song the midges sing, twirling under the overhang.

Hidden in the center of this poem about never is the quiet

I believe in ghosts but that's another matter.


Midges and gardeners die, and we breathe in the atoms of wings and the last words of Christ, while ghosts watch us who
are afraid of their own dead bodies and who want to eat lemon pie.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I couldn't keep the ghosts out entirely, but It seemed right that they should only peek in through the door.

A ghost who wants to eat lemon pie- is that in Holzer? Please give me chapter and verse!

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

It's Swedenborg, actually.

He said he could see spirits hovering around gluttons, or alchoholics.

They yearned to experience vicariously through the earthbound body the taste of liquor or chocolate. The spirits' intensity of desire could even cause cravings.

He said sometimes one person would be surrounded by two or three hovering spirits.

(One of the reasons I decided Swedenborg might be a bit loopy. But then there's that twinge of doubt, too: what if it's true? Because, really, what do we know of the Outer World except through our shamans and poets and cranks?)

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I've read that cases of "possession" may amount to this, the weakened spirit of the addict being unable to keep the hungry ghost from breaking into his body to experience drink or sex or lemon pie through him.

Pretty shuddersome....

I'd prefer it not to be true- which probably means that it is.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

God, protect us from You have invented--or at least take away our imagination if we must be possessed.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Imagination is, perhaps, a defence against possession. I should like to think so,anyway.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

Imagination is, perhaps, a defence against possession.

Would you expand on this? It's a new thought to me.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Erm... it's a new thought to me as well.

I think what I mean is that the imaginative person is more likely to be sensitive to some ghostly bozo trying to barge in.

Does this make any sense?

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

Oh, I see: and, being sensitive to the bozo, can then psychically repel it.

I was thinking that, if someone was gnawing away at my psyche, and I knew it but couldn't do anything about it, I wouldn't want to brood about it.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I think possessing entities are quite easily repelled. They're only able to get a hold when the psyche of the possessee (is this a real word?) is very badly weakened and undermined by (for instance) alcoholism or drug abuse.

At least, that's what I want to believe.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

And I once read somewhere that with every breath we are inhaling atoms that Jesus exhaled when he spoke his last words on the cross.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

What a disgusting idea!

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

Good words, bad words, insane words of Huns, Nazis, and saints: we breathe them all.

Atoms are clean, though, I think: too small for germs.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Well that's alright then.

I suppose.

It still feels kinda oppressive. As though the air around us were thick with ghosts.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

Now, this is odd:

I was telling Kate about our conversation about the atoms of Jesus.

We had not discussed this, or anything even remotely like it.

Kate said: "I do NOT believe this. I was thinking about this exact thing this morning in Knoxville--at about, oh, 9:30 or so.

And I was thinking how crazy it was to think that was so special, because we also inhale stuff like Hitler!"

So I showed her what I'd just sent you--about Huns and Saints.

"Wow," she said.

Wow. Believe it or not. It really happened.

"I guess it's in the air," said Kate. But why not something important?

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

This could be happening all the time

And because the thoughts are trivial we don't voice them- and so rarely find out that other people have been thinking them too.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

I once read a book by someone named Starup I think, and it was about parallel worlds coexisiting, and how, if conditions were just so, you could move between them.

I keep looking for that book, because it touched a chord in me. I believe it, somehow. I believe there are realms we can't see or sense but they are next to us or all around us.

Maybe the air is thick with ghosts! And intersecting worlds upon worlds...grass, rivers, skies, exotic animals! I wouldn't mind.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

If you find the book let me know. I'd like to find out more.

Was he working at a theoretical level or did he have evidence of people crossing from world to world?

Have you come across Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy?

The boy in that has a magic knife which lets him cut doors in the fabric dividing one universe from the next.

It's a fun series. A theological adventure story featuring a plot to assasinate God, plus spectres and gay angels and bears in armour and allsorts.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

I haven't heard of Philip Pullman...

Sorry to say, Starup's book was science fiction. It must be out of print. And I may have his last name wrong and have forgotten the title! Hopeless.

Wish he were a scientific investigator with evidence!

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Pullman has won all sorts of prizes.

The books of the trilogy are

1 Northern Lights
2 The Subtle Knife
3 The Amber Spyglass

I hesitate to make the suggestion, but I think you'd like them.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

I'll check the library.

My, I have a pile of good books at the moment! Several piles.

Tonight I'm reading a brand-new library book with the arresting title Lily Dale, the True Story of the Town that Talks to the Dead--and at the top: "Wake up and smell the ectoplasm! Lily Dale offers a fun trip!--Detroit Free Press"

Apparently Lily Dale, New York is a national center for mediums.

I just started it. Will report!

[tamnonlinear.livejournal.com]

I quite like this. Thank you.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I was challenged to write something for Easter.

It didn't come out at all the way I intended.

[strange-complex.livejournal.com]

Hello! I found you via some mutual friends and some common interests, and thought you looked eminently friendable, so I have. This comment is just me popping by to introduce myself, and to say that if you want to friend me back that's great, but if not, no worries.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

How nice to meet you.

I love anything Roman and I'm a huge admirer of Christopher Lee.

I'm friending you right back.