English Paper: Comparing Donne and Morrisette

OK--I know I am behind in my blogging, but I am a full time college student now and I do have a little social life, too. So I have been real busy. This paper that I am posting here (I am doing some editing as I post it) was my most recent one for the English class this semester. I am looking for you to read it, then I will post what my prof had to say about it, OK?

John Donne lived and wrote four centuries ago. Even tho' he eventually matriculated to being the major church official in London, his early writing career is marked by sensual poems that contributed to the often used theme of "Carpe Diem": seize the day. Alanis Morissette is a singer and composer of the 21st century. Her songs range from pithy comments such as "Ironic" to an anthem such as "You Oughta Know." It is the latter song, "You Oughta Know" that I believe resonates with the young and rakish John Donne's "The Apparition." Both pieces, tho' separated by four centuries, capture extremely similar emotions and images.

Consider Donne's "The Apparition." The conceit of the poem is simple: the male lover in the poem has been abandoned for one lesser than he perceives himself to be.  Since his female "lover" has left him, the voice in the poem plays with the notion that he has "died" after this abandonment and now that he is "dead" he can return, as a "ghost" (hence the title) and haunt his old lover.  Alanis Morissette's song essentially sets up the same conceit: she, too, is abandoned by her male lover, and she is "haunting" her ex-lover's dinner time with his new lover.  And the emotion that drives both Donne's personae and Morissette's is the same: rancor.

Look at how both works communicate the rancor both personae feel. Donne describes his ex-lover as a "feign'd vestal" when his "ghost" visits her.  She is, in modern vernacular, a "fake virgin" who is already lying in bed with someone far lesser than he was. Morissette makes a similar assertion about the falsehoods visited upon her that spun out her rancor; the personae in the song exclaims: "Did you forget about me Mr. Duplicity?" Then, just as Donne asserts, her replacement is far lesser than she: 

It was a slap in the face how quickly I was replaced
Are you thinking of me when you fuck her?

The taboo word used to characterize sex in these lines reinforces the rancor the singer feels as well her disgust of both her ex-lover and his new one.

The duplicity of the ex-lovers' behaviors is reinforced even more in both works. For example, Morissette's voice growls when she says:

And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me you'd hold me
Until you died, til you died
But you're still alive [emphasis added]

This irony is a reiteration of what Donne proclaims when he says that he longs to see his ex, "Bathed in a cold quicksilver sweat." The rancor is a little more subtle here, in contrast to Morissette's song, but it is just as biting.  First, the "sweat" clearly references her vigorous, yet failed, attempt to roust her lover for more sex.  But Donne used "quicksilver" as the modifier and he does for dual purpose.  This dual purpose can only be teased how by understanding "quicksilver."  In Donne's day, "quicksilver" was the term used for the element mercury.  Thus, the silvery, shiny look of sweat covering his ex-lover as she lies quaking in the moonlight upon seeing his "ghost" makes perfect, visual sense.  However, Donne's double dig comes when readers know that "quicksilver" was the "cure" in Donne's day for STD's such as syphilis. Thus he is able to pack a great deal of rancor and frustration and anger within the balance of one word!

Lastly, readers need to consider how the images reflect one another over a span of four centuries. Donne's personae speaks at the end of the poem about "my love is spent." Typical of Donne and his generation of poets, the double entendre suggests both his post-coital period as well as his love's "used up" now that he has had a chance to exact his revenge through the ghostly apparition. Morissette's angry woman suggests a similar image when she underscores that she has moved on to someone else and is not exhausting her emotional or sexual energies on her ex anymore:

And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back
I hope you feel it...well can you feel it!

And just one more example: Donne asserts at the end that he is not going to reveal all at this one haunting; that would make things far too easy for his "feign'd vestal."  He is going to withhold all at this point to assure the maximum revenge.  Morissette's lyric captures a similar vein when she hisses: "And I'm not gonna fade/As soon as you close your eyes."  No, she is not going to fade like a ghost with the coming of the light, she and Donne both echo the same emotions and exploit the same core imagery to underscore the rancor their experiencing after being used by former lovers.

The poems are not juxtaposed with any idea that Morissette's lyricist may have had John Donne's poem in mind.  Nor are the two pieces juxtaposed because they are wonderful examples of precise use of images or language.  These lyrics are juxtaposed to uncover a truism: there is nothing new under the sun.  Certainly this concept has become so cliched that few heed it any longer.  However, the raw and obvious emotion that is identical in these pieces underscores the truth of the cliche: In four hundred plus years, human nature has changed little.  And that consistency across time about our human nature is a solace, as well as a critical reason, for the study and appreciation of art.

Note: Tho' I have included a hyperlink above, here is the attribution for an article on mercury as a standard cure in Donne's day for syphilis:

O'Shea, J.C. "'Two Minutes with Venus, Two Years with Mercury' -
            Mercury as an Antisyphilitic Chemotherapeutic Agent." Journal for                    the Royal Society of Medicine. Vol 88 June 1990. Online. Accessed 21               November 2010.         

Note: In case anyone doesn't know the song: here is Morissette's video of "You Oughta Know" (click the link to go to the video):


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPcyTyilmYY

My disppointment about the election results

OK: I have to concede that I am politically liberal which I know will stop many people from reading any further once they see this sentence.  As a woman (OK--I am 18, but I am still an adult woman), I cannot figure why ANY woman would not be politically liberal!  All one needs to do is look at the constant battle women have--even today--for equal access and equal opportunity to understand the need to remain diligent concerning our rights.

Regardless of this preface, the one thing I wanted to blog about today was the idiocy of this guy in KY, Rand Paul.  Now I know that at this point, some readers may be saying: "She is some raving women's lib, bra burning bitch who is venting her sour grapes."  But let me illustrate why I refer to the idiocy of Mr. Paul.

Here is a man who has been campaigning and is now moving to the US Senate.  In his acceptance speech last night, he referred to the framers of our government and how the commerce clause of the Constitution is an establishment of their vision concerning capitalism; here is the video:

A couple of observations: First, capitalism as an economic concept did not even exist in the time of the frames of the Constitution.  Capitalism was a 19th construct emerging from the work of many economists, such as Adam Smith.  The framers would never have even thought in those economic terms and there is nothing in the Constitution that supports "capitalism." 

A second observation: Mr. Paul mentions several times in his speech about the American value of "freedom" and that we are some of the "freest" people in the history of the world.  Yet, Mr. Paul's social policies contradict this assertion.  For example, the Tea Party does not support the decision of Roe vs. Wade and would roll back that decision. The Tea Party does not support the free gathering of workers to petition employers for better pay and better working conditions.  The Tea Party does not support the free movement of people from around the world into our country--which, in Mr. Paul's own terms, is a beacon for many.

Because Mr. Paul is so ill-informed about a document that he is going to be taking an oath to support and defend and because Mr. Paul dissembles so much concerning the word "freedom" which his own positions gut, I have no choice but to refer to him as an idiot!

 

Now with Tea Party representatives such as Mr. Paul in the Congress, I am fearful that we women will need to be even more diligent and, therefore,  we must stand up to sell-outs like Sarah Palin and like the governor-elect  of SC, Nikki Haley, and assert what the Constitution DOES really say: All of us are guaranteed rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and that government's role is to assure that these rights are protected.  All of us are guaranteed protection from the intrusion of religious positions into our civil life.  All of us are guaranteed free speech, free practice of our faith--what ever that faith or belief system might be, and free exchange of ideas! Yet these very freedoms would be given away by the ilk of Paul, Palin, and Haley to business and industry who guarantees us NOTHING and is only motivated to deliver profits to shareholders.  That is why government has had to intervene!  It has nothing to do with expanding the power of government; government is working hard to protect our rights against those who care less about rights of speech, gathering, press and ONLY care about profits. . . . .

So women, be prepared for the 2012 campaign and attend carefully to those Tea Party candidates and those right leaning Republicans.  If we are seduced by the smoke and mirrors of economic debate and if we are seduced about the big lie of government intrusion into our lives, we are--liking Esau--giving away our basic birthright for a bowl of porridge!

Voting next week

OK: I've already posted somewhere (I can't remember if it was in my blog or on Facebook) that I am all excited about my first chance to vote in this off-year election.  I've been reading and listening a lot about the issues: health reform, social security, debt, housing crisis, banking crisis, double-dip reception. . . the list is endless (I want to thank mom for listening to the local NPR station in the morning while we are getting ready and in the drive to campus!)

But with all of this stuff going one, I don't understand one thing: if there is any significant change in the Congress, how are we going to deal with these issues?

I understand the frustration that some of the "Tea Party" people feel.  Lots of us felt the same way during the Bush years. . . but regardless of our approach to solutions, we all agree that these issues I mentioned need to be addressed.  How can they be addressed when Congress is going to be intentionally deadlocked with this off year election!

OK: let's look at a couple of these issues.  Let's go to health care reform.  Sorry, free market does NOT make for good health care.  Insurance companies are the only ones who come out on the long end of that stick.  Professionals are frustrated by quotas set by insurance companies and we Americans are not getting the quality of care that the "free market" touts that we have.  I have an aunt who is struggling with diabetes. She was diagnosed when she was 12 and she is just now 24.  Thanks to the reform passed this past year, she can get insurance, even with here pre-existing disease now.  But if that reform had NOT passed--or worse--this plan is repealed with a different Congress, she will die before she is 30!  Why can other countries in industrialized Europe and in Asia make universal health care work, but we can't?  By changing the faces in Congress in November, we are not going to make ANY headway in this matter.

OK: Social security.  I know that I will never see anything that I pay into social security and I know I will have to work longer than my mom & dad, and their parents.  So I am not worried about myself.  I am worried about my parents and my grand parents who DID contribute to the system and DID plan on it to take care of them in their old age.  I know we are in a different world than where FDR was at the end of the Great Depression.  But he had the right idea that collectively we can work to make all Americans have some sense of security as they age or in cases where they can no longer work as they have previously.  I think it is really ironic that many who argue about changes in health care and supporting social security express their fundamental Christian faith.  Didn't Jesus challenge us to take care of one another.  Didn't Jesus inform the disciples to take care of those in need--widows and orphans and the sick?  Didn't Jesus as that we tithe?  

Tho' I don't necessarily invoke Jesus as my personal savior, I certainly respect this part of his teachings and do what I can.  I see my deductions in my paycheck and my taxes as a sort of "tithing."  So why would Christians be against this idea?  I don't understand!

To be honest--this whole debt thing is beyond my capability of understanding.  But I believe that is we had not been in the ruinous war in Iraq. . . and if there had not been tax cuts to the wealthiest Americans, that we might be in a different place now.  I understand from reading my history books and from some reading on my own and from what my mom and dad reported: President Clinton created a budget SURPLUS during his years and balanced the federal budget.  If President Obama were given the time and the Congress, I think he could do the same thing!  So don't whine to me about debt when you are going to intentionally elect an obstructionist Congress that will prevent ANYTHING from being done over the next three years!

Bottom line: I am voting next week, as I have a chance, to vote for those men and women who will work WITH President Obama, instead of against him.  We are supposed to be the UNITED States, yet the political speeches, the adds on TV, and news all seem to underscore how were are divided! Wasn't in Lincoln who talked about "a house divided on itself"?  Wasn't it FDR who cautioned us about fear? Wasn't it Kennedy who challenged us to look as see what WE can do for our country?  What's happened to this spirit of our working together toward a common good?  What's happened to the heart of both American ingenuity and generosity?  

When I hear "Tea Party" folks and when I listen to Palin, I become afraid, very afraid.  But I am stealing myself against this fear by voting and by talking and by writing to encourage everyone. . . let's give Mr. Obama the help he needs to really move our country forward into the 21st Century instead of lapsing back to 20th Century pettiness!

Mary Magdelena's Thoughts on the Morning of the Last Supper

You have left me lying here

for what we know is the inevitable.

After we made love last night and

you drifted asleep on my breast,

You were restless in your dreams:

You moaned a heart-rending moan.

You pleaded--"No, no, don't let this happen," and then,

When I kissed your brow and

cooed my love warm and whispery next to your ear,

You finally settled into a resolute sleep.

I wish I could dream a resolute dream, one of a simple life,

a common life of a 

carpenter's wife:

You and I and children, then grandchildren

and your sleeping in my arms every night, tired 

from your physical work, not your father's!

But that life was not offered to you, nor to me!

You knew that long before I: you knew all that when

our eyes meet, our lips touched, our bodies melted into one another

that first time.

I only knew later, when like Leda,

I took on your knowledge with your seed.

But unlike Leda, I took on more: more than your knowledge, 

I took on the onus of you and of our love:

I took on the memory of my holding your 

head between my moist breasts after we made love

and you were awaiting your sleep and your fate.

I took on the the feeling of your presence in my arms, 

between my thighs, between my breasts--

even now when you are gone.

I took on a life that is empti-full:

denied your physical presence, 

yet full in our love for one another.

Right now, tho', your love lasts fresh on me and in me:

your scent hangs on my skin; 

your beard's irritation is still red on my face;

your delight lies deep and fertile within me. . .

now, right now. . . . .

even that you are gone.

OK: I need some help with this. . . .

For several weeks now, Dwight, the guy I've been "dating" is surprising me and showing up on Thursday night (last night was the 3rd in a row) and he wanted me to go with him today (today being Friday, 8 October) back with him to school for their homecoming weekend. . .

I am posting this since he is in lab right now and I am in his dorm room reflecting one WTF is going on!!!

It's not that I don't like Dwight. I really, really do. In fact, I probably lack his as well, if not better, than any person I've ever really known. He is sort of goofy, but in a really nice way. He is talented--he plays several musical instruments and has a passable voice. He is smart; he is sure to be Dean's list for his first term. He is tolerant of me and my idiosyncrasies (as witnessed by this rambling post).

So why am I writing about this issue--why do I seem to be sounding like some ungrateful bitch concerning this really sweet guy who just happened into my like?

Part of it is that Dwight keeps telling me he loves me. . .now I know there are some of you out there who will immediately say that, indeed, I am one petty bitch who does not know how good she has it. But please note, before you rush to judgment of me, some of these facts:

• Dwight and I are only 18 years old.  Yes, I know Romeo & Juliet where younger--but look what happened to them!! Why should their "relationship" be a standard?
• We have only known each other for about 2 months now.  How can anyone be convinced that they have found a "soul mate" in such a brief amount of time? 
• OK--Dwight and I have been "intimate." I am an 18 year old woman who has been sexually active since I was 14. . . I don't want to debate the morality of this decision.  I am responsible for my sexual health, for the health of my partner, and for my fertility. I can't help but think that Dwight is (a) feeling compelled by our culture or (b) being confused within his own male thinking that sexual attraction MUST equal love, and--therefore--he feels he has to say he "loves" me. I have told him about as much as I am telling you here, but he still insists he loves me. Do you think I am being unreasonable about this question?

And now dig what's going on this weekend: We did luxuriate this AM until late morning in bed. We headed out after he explained his vision of the weekend! We had a really nice lunch, al fresco, downtown before heading over the mountain to his school.  We got to his dorm room--well, I have to self-censor at this point--and then he left to his lab that is scheduled to run until 5 or so. . . .

When he gets back, I am supposed to be ready and we are going to have dinner, then there is a play called Romantic Fools we are going to see.  Here's the blurb about his play: "Romantic Fools is a wild comedy ride following the journey of an Everyman and Everywoman through the world of sex, romance and relationships. From a date with a caveman to Stepford husbands, Romantic Fools is a comedy for anyone who has ever loved, lusted or acted like an idiot. Drawing from influences such as Monty Python and the Mark Brothers, these sketches celebrate the inherent comedy of male-female relationships. For mature audiences."

 

OMG. .  .then there is the game tomorrow and some parties of some such stuff going on after and late into the evening. . . then he is going to get me back home sometime on Sunday since I have a mid-term math exam Monday night before our fall break starts next week!!!

HELP ME!!! Calling all cyber-friends, from Facebook to readers of my blog to any one who stumbles onto my blog. .  .what do I do to manage this whirlwind?  

And what compounds that matter is what I've listed above: he is really nice and in 10 years or so, I might be able to really consider the sort of serious relationship he is suggesting, but there is no way in hell I would ever think about telling him I love him right now. . . .

Don't hold back, dear readers!  If you think I am some heartless bitch who is using this boy, then please share your point of view so I can have something to reflect upon. . .I can tell you that I am heterosexual, and 100% committed to that chose, so don't be cute an allege that I am a lesbian and just not owned yet. . . .

So if you can help with advice, perspective, experiences, PLEASE post something in my comments area under this blog post. . . .and keep your fingers crossed for me tonight and tomorrow. . . 

Bye and love you all!

My first attempt at a villanelle: "Do not go gentle into a world without HTTP"

Do not go gentle into a world without HTTP

Do not go gentle into a world without connection, without HTTP! Another generation may be content with radio, TV, and phone
But we, we rage against the lack of connectivity.

---

Tho’ parents and grandparents know a world of productivity
Based solely on print and text and place, we—we alone—
Are the first where time is what matters and place is empty.

---

Boomers dream of being as adept as we,
Yet their pale attempts to connect and belong
Fail in our world of 24/7 connectivity!

---

And Xers who believe they invented HTTP
Who first broached the idea of place postpon’d
Cannot fathom our nature, our instinct for connectivity.

---

And we—the present generation—simply called ME’s
Have seen what brave new world we own
And relish our world of cybernicity!

---

So, you, my mother and my grandmother, friend me. . .
Facebook me as you will, yet you are always strangers in my virtual home!
My generation has moved past your cusp of uncertainty
And only we live, love, work, and play in a world of 24/7 connectivity. 

---

[Three notes for any readers who stumble onto this poem:

• First, I owe a debt to Dylan Thomas' "Do not go gentle" for both structure and form for my attempt at this villanelle.
• Readers may find several explanations of what a villanelle is by clicking here
• Besides the homage to Thomas, my other "inspiration" (for lack of any better term) is living this past week without my computer and how empty and lost I was for nearly 7 full days!]

Week W/O my Laptop!

OK--mom went out of town a week ago Sunday and on Monday AM, just as I got to school and settled into the library for a morning of Facebooking and other distractions, my system FAILED!!! OMG, what should I/could I do?

 I called mom and explained my distress and I emailed daddy for advice.  Mom essentially told me to put my big girl panties on and deal with it; daddy is still looking for work after his place closed in August and his communication is erratic.  He was in logistics, so he is traveling up and down the East Coast looking for opportunities.  Sometimes he can be in a place and get email out; others times, he can't.  Anyway, I had to do something.

There is a local place where my mom has had her laptop worked on, so after lunch, I rode over to see him.  I'd contracted a virus that attacked the boot file (or some such cabalah-speak like that) and he would have to "blow away" my hard drive, then re-install an operating system. . . at this point, my anxiety began to rise to unprecedented levels (other than on math test days!)


First, did this "blowing away" mean everything would be gone?  Second--operating system--I don't know anything other than when I turn on the power, it starts up and I point and click to do my stuff.  Third--and most important--what's this going to cost?

"I think when all is said and done," the computer guy said, "you're looking at about $250."


I nearly swooned like Scarlet O'Hara on the news Ashley had been wounded! Two hundred and fifty dollars!!!

I left the laptop and went to my car and sat, listening to the rain pelting the hood.  Where could I get that sort of money?  Mom had left me $50 dollars when she took out on Sunday; she figured that would take care of my gas money and some meals if I wanted to eat some fast food. . . .I had a little money in my account--very little after tuition and books and supplies! What could I do?


I drove slowly back to school to get ready for my afternoon math class.  I felt so disconnected. . . .I went to the library and used one of the public computers.  But it wasn't the same.  I checked email, checked the online support for my classes, but I didn't even really want to log in to Facebook or blog or check my T35.com site! I felt like I was so exposed while using a public computer.

Then, after math class, and went in the pouring rain back to the dark, cold house. . . I was really freaking!  I was so used to mom being there when I got home at 7:00. . .and the dogs had peed in the kitchen on top of everything else! OMG what else could happen to me?


I cleaned up their stupid dogs' mess, walked them in the rain, brought them in, and drew an warm bath. . . .I sat there for over an hour, until the water was turning cool.  I gave the cats some dry food and pulled mom's raincoat and boots over my bare-assed self and walked the dogs once more. . . .

When I got in, I slipped off the dripping coat and boots, heated some water and a tea bag in the microwave, and cuddled under two afghans in the living room in the dark. . .I was naked, cold, miserable!

(More reflections on this week coming!)

My first English Essay: Commentary on "Ball Turret Gunner"

The Internet is replete with commentary about Randall Jarrell's poem, "Death of a Ball Turret Gunner" and the issue of abortion.  The comments range from semi-scholarly to near illiteracy.  Most of these comments seem to argue that Jarrell's poem about an airman's brutal death is a thin metaphor for his political position on the issue of abortion.  A minority argue that his little poem is taking a different stance.  Let's look at these two positions and consider, in the denouement of this essay, if there may well be a third.

Admittedly, there are fetal images in this poem: "hunched in its belly," "my wet fur," and "loosed from. .  . ." Even the title allusion, "ball turret," suggests the rounded uterus of a woman heavy with her child.  How do these fetal images uncover an "anti-abortion" position?  The crux seems to lie in the tone through the first few lines and ghastly image at the close.  The images and tone in the first several lines of the poem suggest a "state" of some security--the security the fetus "knows" in its uterine "home."  The sudden jolt of "nightmare fighters" suggest a horrifying intrusion into the security of the uterus.  And the closing image, ". . .they washed me out of the turret with a hose," could easily be construed as a DNC process where the results of inception are literally washed out of the mother.  Images and tone can be persuasive in convincing some readers to "make the meaning" that Jarrell is horrified by abortion and is underscoring his horror by using brutal images from war.

However, these same images could be construed very differently.  Consider: war is state sanctified brutality.  The state ("I fell into the State"--notice the use of the capital letter here) approves war and has no compunction about putting young men and women in harms way.  Therefore, a reader could make the case that Jarrell's poem is essentially confirming the State's role in allowing abortion to happen.  If the state allows war, then why should the state interfere with the choice to terminate a pregnancy.  Undoubtedly, Jarrell would have had some awareness of the multitude of horror stories that women had recounted concerning "back door abortions" throughout most of the 20th Century.  A generation before Jarrell, Ernest Hemingway explored the issue of abortion in his short story, "Hill Like White Elephants."  So it is not unthinkable for a serious writer to not only explore, but even advocate for, a political position on abortion.

There still lies another approach to this entire "debate" on whether "Death of a Ball Turret Gunner" reveals a position on the issue of abortion. As noted in the head notes to our text, Jarrell had experience in the US Army Air Corps in the early 1940s.  He moved before the end of the war into a role as air traffic controller.  This information is critical to this third option: a standard "practice" by poets from the 16th century forward is to force similarities between two things that seem obviously dissimilar.  In fact, this literary device used by the metaphysical poets of the 17th century is called a "conceit."  For example, John Donne compares the love of God to a rape in his sonnet, "Batter my heart three-personned God."  George Herbert compares his priestly collar to a choke collar in his poem of the same name. Could Jarrell have been exploring a conceit in his poem and not be advocating one position or another? Is it possible that given Jarrell's observations of numerous B-17s and B-21s though his experiences during World War 11, that the conceit of a ball turret and a uterus suggested itself?  After establishing that one comparison--between the swollen uterus and is sheltered inhabitant with the ball turret gunner, also protected, yet vulnerable--the rest of the poem simple evolved from his personal experience in the Air Corps.  

Consider the "wet fur" metaphor early in the poem.  The war planes of WW II were not pressured like today's commercial aircraft.  Therefore, when a plane was "six miles from earth," the personnel aboard this plane would have experienced thin air and extreme cold.  Standard dress for many airmen during the war was a coat that was fur-lined.  Also, with the extreme cold and heated breathing of the airmen, there would have been condensation, like all of us have experienced when exhaling on a cold day.  This condensation would have dampened, e.g. wetted, any airman's fur lining and collar.

The reading of the poem seems obvious: there is no political position in "Death of a Ball Turret Gunner" supporting choice and supporting fetal "rights."  The poem is more akin to the generation of Shakespeare, Donne, Herbert, Marvel, and others who relished an opportunity to force seemingly random items together and make the similarities between the two foreign objects compelling to readers.  (811 words)

Ball turret graphic from Check-Six.com

Graphic from ultra-sound job ad on Facebook.com

Aubade to Jesus

I have tasted the manna of Moses from your goodbye kisses;

I have quenched my thirsts from the rock of your love;

I have been caught up in the whirlwind of your passion. . .

And I lie here alone,now, since you bid me farewell,

And I still know your presence:

Your sweet, earthy scent is still rising from my thighs
my stomach, and my breasts. . . . 

The roughness of your beard still flushes my throat,
my ears, my face. . . 

The gaze of your eyes in our shared pleasure warms me,
haunts me, and sustains me. . .

You are a blessed moment's sunlight baking my fertile belly. . .

And I already know--like Leda, when she was dropped by 
her lover, Zeus--

More than any one woman should ever know.

(This image is loaded from Steven Kenny's "Studio-Online" that promoted his January 2009 show.)

For FB Tracy and wishes for her mother's health

I am trying this for my FB friend based on some readings I've done on "courage, wisdom, and protection spells": I light 3 candles for you and cast the circle; I take the rope and tie knots as I chant for you and your family:

With this rope I bind your power,
to be Tracy's for the seconds or the hours.
To make her strong when I she may be weak.
To give her wisdom that she seeks.
To give her courage as not to flee. 
Oh goddess Moon, you will be done, so might it be.

 

Lost in Translation

[Note from me: OK--this poem is another I've composed where I am speaking as Mary Magdalena (there are lots of variant spellings of her 2nd name). The other poems I've posted in my notes in FB, but for some reason, my notes simply aren't working, so this approach is my work around.  CAUTION: I am exploring themes that some my find offensive since my real focus is about the physical life of Jesus.  So if you are offended by hard, faith questions, then please stop reading my posts now!):

Lost in Translation

I am not bitter that my gospel is not in the canon;

Many of his followers wrote of their experiences with him

And joined me as a footnote
Or found themselves relegated to obscurity.

But my love for Jesus and his desire for me;
Our deep passionate yearning for one another. . .
That is the theme of the centuries.


Our love should not have been ignored, 
Pushed to the margins,
Denied by the church. . . .

Love is the heart of my beloved and the soul of his message!
Yet both the message and I were lost in the church's translation.


Footnote: I have added a link to the Gospel According to Mary Magdelene in my poem if you have some interests in reading her own words (at least some scholars have some level of conviction that this is so.
 

Welcome to my Blog

OK: I got frustrated with trying to add notes in my FB page to share the poems and other reflections I have, so I decided to try this!  I don't know how this adventure will work, but as many of my FB friends know, I am open to about anything! So please come by and visit my writing page often!

This blog is pretty user-friendly and I am going to play with it  most of the day since I don't have class until 4:00 pm!!!  Wohoo!!