Lots going on and I hope to do some more writing. . . in fact, besides the Mary Magdalene voice, I am looking at playing around with some "Vampire" haiku. . . .I may post some of those by the end of the week.
Of course, I am always ready to rant and rave about Congress and cutting costs to "entitlement" programs--well I have an answer for you "boys": start by looking in your damn mirrors and cutting YOUR "entitlements." For example, cut YOUR salaries; PAY your share of healthcosts (which is a freebie for Senators and Representatives); PAY your share of social security. . . .think of the savings and gains with just looking at yourselves!
Another major "entitlement" that is easy to cut is the military budget. . . bottom line: you don't fight terrorists with nuclear bombs, aircraft carriers, and anti-ballistic missiles. We are spending money for a "Cold War" that no longer exists. . . If the billions of dollars for weapons systems were spent in foreign aid, hell we wouldn't need to worry about military costs!!
Just a little rant before I head out for the day!! Luv ya and see you tomorrow!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Other Mary Washes Jesus' Feet
I knew to be discrete, so when Mary went
to wash Jesus' feet,
I slipped to the door way.
I was not jealous since he would be in my arms
soon enough.
But I watched in awe of her passion for him
and wondered at his worldly, sensual self:
He smiled that singular Jesus way when she
released the waves of her dark hair from
the constraints of its pins.
His face flushed in that intimate flush
that only I am capable of knowing when she tenderly touched
his feet with her love and her desire.
His body responded, rising beneath his robe,
when she rubbed his legs and feet with the
cool water. . . .
His breathing caught as the water
she cupped spattered
'cross his dry and dusty self and trickled into the basin.
And when she had washed him, she looked at her work
and it was good.
Then she took her hair:
her thick, coarse hair we women in the Middle East have. . .
her dark, sensuous, waved hair,
and she began to dry his legs with it:
reaching up above his knees and gently and slowly tugging and pulling
down then up
and down once more
to his ankles
and up, up again to
slowly slip and slide her hair
down, down, down
to his
feet and toes,
each toe carefully fondled and carressed by her
soft hands and her glorious hair. . . .
Jesus was more than ready to come to me when we got home that night!
to wash Jesus' feet,
I slipped to the door way.
I was not jealous since he would be in my arms
soon enough.
But I watched in awe of her passion for him
and wondered at his worldly, sensual self:
He smiled that singular Jesus way when she
released the waves of her dark hair from
the constraints of its pins.
His face flushed in that intimate flush
that only I am capable of knowing when she tenderly touched
his feet with her love and her desire.
His body responded, rising beneath his robe,
when she rubbed his legs and feet with the
cool water. . . .
His breathing caught as the water
she cupped spattered
'cross his dry and dusty self and trickled into the basin.
And when she had washed him, she looked at her work
and it was good.
Then she took her hair:
her thick, coarse hair we women in the Middle East have. . .
her dark, sensuous, waved hair,
and she began to dry his legs with it:
reaching up above his knees and gently and slowly tugging and pulling
down then up
and down once more
to his ankles
and up, up again to
slowly slip and slide her hair
down, down, down
to his
feet and toes,
each toe carefully fondled and carressed by her
soft hands and her glorious hair. . . .
Jesus was more than ready to come to me when we got home that night!
I am Mary of the Margins
I am Mary of the Margins. . . .
At least, that is what the church would have us all to believe.
But Jesus was my lover:
Sweeter than the Canna wedding wine;
More bountiful that the miracle of loaves and fishes
Capable of arising while encircled in my arms
again and again and again.
I don't blame the church for putting me just outside the frame
instead of in the center of Jesus' life where I
lived and loved
dreamed and desired
healed and was healed. . . .
No, God has hated us women since Eve
and the church has simply followed Jehovah's party line.
At least, that is what the church would have us all to believe.
But Jesus was my lover:
Sweeter than the Canna wedding wine;
More bountiful that the miracle of loaves and fishes
Capable of arising while encircled in my arms
again and again and again.
I don't blame the church for putting me just outside the frame
instead of in the center of Jesus' life where I
lived and loved
dreamed and desired
healed and was healed. . . .
No, God has hated us women since Eve
and the church has simply followed Jehovah's party line.
If Eve Had Been Greek
If Eve had been Greek—
The serpent would have horsed himself into her hips
And she would have begat a monster. . . .
If Eve had been Greek—
The serpent would have wiled his way between her thighs
And she would have begat twins. . . . .
If Eve had been Greek—
The serpent would have spat a shower into her womb
And she would have begat a hero. . . .
But Eve was not Greek and she has been
Denied and denigrated for centuries for being
“The” cause of it all!
Next time Yaweh, be Zeus so we women will
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)