[As with all chiasms, the middle is the pinnacle]
'All your kind they're coming clean
They shut their eyes, their mess, their scenes. . .'
-From K.C. Accidental by Broken Social Scene
The epiphany
Struck me
Today
In staring at the crucifix
Above the Body of our Lord
(His Kingdom come):
History
Is no abstract fatality;
His very wrists were truly pierced;
He truly drank His cup with Jewish wrists, feet, side.
Before His mighty triumph
In His mighty triumph
He truly bled.
I
My life has historically
Been an unfolding
Of estranged dying,
Hardening into a polished crystal
Until cool to the touch and smooth,
A sputtering so as to not stammer,
A forgetting to not remember,
A dying down, a
Dying.
Writing
This, I admit
All these stitches by which
I've begun to unhinge my inside
By
The seams:
I've become a
Dr. of bandages.
. . .That is to say, specifically:
(And here stitches prick and itch in their release
As they catch on my hardened skin)
You broke my body in half, [name omitted],
The blood draining from my face and soul,
Lifeless gut flopping inside
When you rejected me
Rejected me with a public parade
And our friends laughed at how silly
I had looked
How I warbled in pursuing
('Look
At how funny he looks when he runs-!')
And you all laughed at me, my antics;
So I practised.
I worked on stitching and wishing
To Hope to pursue other girls someday.
I tightened
Tightened
The skin over my heart and wounded knees
Until few would ever see me again.
I refused to bleed again.
. . .That is to say, in another example:
You left me in a warehouse, [name omitted],
After insulting my wits or lack therein
And I caused you
Far too much grief,
So you took me off the forklift
And bruised me repeatedly
Repeatedly
Broke my body badly;
So I stuck my tongue out in concentration-
Not at you, at my concentration-
And I wouldn't again let superiours see my pain,
Because it hurt you.
You mocked me repeatedly;
I shut the doors to
Authorities,
Celebrities,
Family.
I refused to bleed.
This
Has historically been a
Not bleeding,
A pleading in hurried slush under my breath
While continually dressing it up
For the bleeding to stop;
I've clinged
To the mangled clay left of me
While managing to die that ridiculous
Protestant 'Death'
-A dyed Buddhist annihilation-
And bandages rolls and rolls of
Bandages
Wrapped in intricate trappings, patternings,
And I refused to bleed.
[Girl], [Manager], and perhaps best seen
In you, the church-planters,
With our upside-down doctrines floated
Topside by the smiling Popes.
I ventured
I ventured criticism,
But the entire parade was throwing candy
And scowls, so
I would not bleed.
. . .It was the aftermath, and
In one rendering of the story,
You had said, 'Follow Me,'
Which I knew implied
Finally dying
-Not denying the evil in its ghastly woundings,
But trusting
Taking
Up my smaller cross behind, beside Thee
As a thief
Of sorts
And bleeding,
Finally trusting, finally bleeding
Again . . .
II
Lip-quivering,
Arm spasm delivering
Joy
Is building
Building within me;
I'm waiting
I'm waiting.
He who
Gave His life to
Save ours prayed
For us to be united as one
-He in Father, Father in Him,
And us in Spirit in Him-
And He
Said, 'If any forsakes
'His house and family
'And tricycle routes for Me,
'He will bleed
'He will bleed again,
'But find
'His life, home, family,
'Bicycle routes.'
Joy
Is building
Within me;
I'm waiting,
I'm waiting for
Easter morning.
III
I've historically wished,
I wish now
Our Empires would
Just go ahead and finish the job
And croak.
I say that not light-heartedly or
Claiming for me immunity or
Forsaking good bandages foolishly
If they may help;
However, how ever we
Breathe while we are not so keen on being a breathing people;
However we bandage, we are an ever-bleeding people,
Ourselves bleeding and bleeding others,
And we refuse to bleed
Refuse to admit any bleeding
Except the bleeding we can't hide but still bandage
Though bleeding
Bleeding all over our sterile coasters, conversation pieces, carriages.
Hearses-
There are hearses everywhere
-To take all the unwanted and forsaken
(post-mortum, post-conception, pre-conception, pre-nuptials)
-To bury all our pet injustices against our spouses and neighbour
-To applaud social renovations, reasoned erasor rubber to the Invisibles
And out the door with the poor or repentance
. . .Repentance?! Hearses
Are dressed in business suits Sunday clothes
Or like ice-cream delivery trucks
So we don't run our blood cold:
The Invisible Holocaust
So as not to stain our teeth and lifestyles.
Basically, I pray something like:
Save us, O Lord, and
Please be merciful to us, but
Thy Kingdom come and will be done;
We've stubbornly brewed a bowl of judgment for us,
And I would that this cup would pass
-Yet not our ever-bandaging will
But Your will be done.
Amen.
He truly bled for our transgressions;
In His triumph there we are truly healed.
Before His triumph,
He truly drank this cup,
And His wrists were openly pierced;
For history
Is no abstract fatality.
-Rick
