THE PROLOGUE. 1

Experience, though none authority                  authoritative texts
Were in this world, is right enough for me
To speak of woe that is in marriage:
For, lordings, since I twelve year was of age,
(Thanked be God that is etern on live),              lives eternally
Husbands at the church door have I had five,2
For I so often have y-wedded be,
And all were worthy men in their degree.
But me was told, not longe time gone is
That sithen* Christe went never but ones                          since
To wedding, in the Cane of Galilee,                               Cana
That by that ilk example taught he me,                            same
That I not wedded shoulde be but once.
Lo, hearken eke a sharp word for the *****,                   occasion
Beside a welle Jesus, God and man,
Spake in reproof of the Samaritan:
"Thou hast y-had five husbandes," said he;
"And thilke man, that now hath wedded thee,                       that
Is not thine husband:" 3 thus said he certain;
What that he meant thereby, I cannot sayn.
But that I aske, why the fifthe man
Was not husband to the Samaritan?
How many might she have in marriage?
Yet heard I never tellen *in mine age                      in my life
Upon this number definitioun.
Men may divine, and glosen* up and down;                        comment
But well I wot, express without a lie,
God bade us for to wax and multiply;
That gentle text can I well understand.
Eke well I wot, he said, that mine husband
Should leave father and mother, and take to me;
But of no number mention made he,
Of bigamy or of octogamy;
Why then should men speak of it villainy?     as if it were a disgrace

Lo here, the wise king Dan Solomon,                           Lord 4
I trow that he had wives more than one;
As would to God it lawful were to me
To be refreshed half so oft as he!
What gift of God had he for all his wives?     special favour, licence
No man hath such, that in this world alive is.
God wot, this noble king, *as to my wit,              as I understand
The first night had many a merry fit
With each of them, so well was him on live.         so well he lived
Blessed be God that I have wedded five!
Welcome the sixth whenever that he shall.
For since I will not keep me chaste in all,
When mine husband is from the world y-gone,
Some Christian man shall wedde me anon.
For then th' apostle saith that I am free
To wed, a' God's half, where it liketh me.             on God's part
He saith, that to be wedded is no sin;
Better is to be wedded than to brin.                              burn
What recketh* me though folk say villainy                 care *evil
Of shrewed* Lamech, and his bigamy?                     impious, wicked
I wot well Abraham was a holy man,
And Jacob eke, as far as ev'r I can.                              know
And each of them had wives more than two;
And many another holy man also.
Where can ye see, *in any manner age,                   in any period
That highe God defended* marriage                           forbade 5
By word express? I pray you tell it me;
Or where commanded he virginity?
I wot as well as you, it is no dread,                            doubt
Th' apostle, when he spake of maidenhead,
He said, that precept thereof had he none:
Men may counsel a woman to be one,                              a maid
But counseling is no commandement;
He put it in our owen judgement.
For, hadde God commanded maidenhead,
Then had he ****** wedding out of dread;           condemned *doubt
And certes, if there were no seed y-sow,                          sown
Virginity then whereof should it grow?
Paul durste not commanden, at the least,
A thing of which his Master gave no hest.                      command
The dart* is set up for virginity;                             goal 6
Catch whoso may, who runneth best let see.
But this word is not ta'en of every wight,
But there as* God will give it of his might.             except where
I wot well that th' apostle was a maid,
But natheless, although he wrote and said,
He would that every wight were such as he,
All is but counsel to virginity.
And, since to be a wife he gave me leave
Of indulgence, so is it no repreve                   *scandal, reproach
To wedde me, if that my make should die,                 mate, husband
Without exception of bigamy;                          charge, reproach
All were it* good no woman for to touch            though it might be
(He meant as in his bed or in his couch),
For peril is both fire and tow t'assemble
Ye know what this example may resemble.
This is all and some, he held virginity
More profit than wedding in frailty:
(Frailty clepe I, but if that he and she           frailty I call it,
Would lead their lives all in chastity),                         unless
I grant it well, I have of none envy
Who maidenhead prefer to bigamy;
It liketh them t' be clean in body and ghost;                     *soul
Of mine estate I will not make a boast.                      condition

For, well ye know, a lord in his household
Hath not every vessel all of gold; 7
Some are of tree, and do their lord service.
God calleth folk to him in sundry wise,
And each one hath of God a proper gift,
Some this, some that, as liketh him to shift.      appoint, distribute
Virginity is great perfection,
And continence eke with devotion:
But Christ, that of perfection is the well,                   fountain
Bade not every wight he should go sell
All that he had, and give it to the poor,
And in such wise follow him and his lore:                     doctrine
He spake to them that would live perfectly, --
And, lordings, by your leave, that am not I;
I will bestow the flower of mine age
In th' acts and in the fruits of marriage.
Tell me also, to what conclusion                          end, purpose
Were members made of generation,
And of so perfect wise a wight y-wrought?                        being
Trust me right well, they were not made for nought.
Glose whoso will, and say both up and down,
That they were made for the purgatioun
Of *****, and of other thinges smale,
And eke to know a female from a male:
And for none other cause? say ye no?
Experience wot well it is not so.
So that the clerkes be not with me wroth,                     scholars
I say this, that they were made for both,
That is to say, *for office, and for ease                 for duty and
Of engendrure, there we God not displease.                 for pleasure
Why should men elles in their bookes set,
That man shall yield unto his wife her debt?
Now wherewith should he make his payement,
If he us'd not his silly instrument?
Then were they made upon a creature
To purge *****, and eke for engendrure.
But I say not that every wight is hold,                        obliged
That hath such harness* as I to you told,                     equipment
To go and use them in engendrure;
Then should men take of chastity no cure.                         care
Christ was a maid, and shapen as a man,                      fashioned
And many a saint, since that this world began,
Yet ever liv'd in perfect chastity.
I will not vie with no virginity.                              contend
Let them with bread of pured wheat be fed,                    purified
And let us wives eat our barley bread.
And yet with barley bread, Mark tell us can,8
Our Lord Jesus refreshed many a man.
In such estate as God hath *cleped us,                    called us to
I'll persevere, I am not precious,                         over-dainty
In wifehood I will use mine instrument
As freely as my Maker hath it sent.
If I be dangerous God give me sorrow;            sparing of my favours
Mine husband shall it have, both eve and morrow,
When that him list come forth and pay his debt.
A husband will I have, I *will no let,         will bear no hindrance
Which shall be both my debtor and my thrall,                     *slave
And have his tribulation withal
Upon his flesh, while that I am his wife.
I have the power during all my life
Upon his proper body, and not he;
Right thus th' apostle told it unto me,
And bade our husbands for to love us well;
All this sentence me liketh every deal.                           whit

Up start the Pardoner, and that anon;
"Now, Dame," quoth he, "by God and by Saint John,
Ye are a noble preacher in this case.
I was about to wed a wife, alas!
What? should I bie it on my flesh so dear?                  suffer for
Yet had I lever wed no wife this year."                         rather
"Abide," quoth she; "my tale is not begun             wait in patience
Nay, thou shalt drinken of another tun
Ere that I go, shall savour worse than ale.
And when that I have told thee forth my tale
Of tribulation in marriage,
Of which I am expert in all mine age,
(This is to say, myself hath been the whip),
Then mayest thou choose whether thou wilt sip
Of *thilke tunne, that I now shall broach.                   that tun
Beware of it, ere thou too nigh approach,
For I shall tell examples more than ten:
Whoso will not beware by other men,
By him shall other men corrected be:
These same wordes writeth Ptolemy;
Read in his Almagest, and take it there."
"Dame, I would pray you, if your will it were,"
Saide this Pardoner, "as ye began,
Tell forth your tale, and spare for no man,
And teach us younge men of your practique."
"Gladly," quoth she, "since that it may you like.
But that I pray to all this company,
If that I speak after my fantasy,
To take nought agrief* what I may say;                         to heart
For mine intent is only for to play.

Now, Sirs, then will I tell you forth my tale.
As ever may I drinke wine or ale
I shall say sooth; the husbands that I had
Three of them were good, and two were bad
The three were goode men, and rich, and old
Unnethes mighte they the statute hold      they could with difficulty
In which that they were bounden unto me.                   obey the law
Yet wot well what I mean of this, pardie.                       *by God
As God me help, I laugh when tha

We went to the movies and I didn't bring a sweater.
But the night was coldly filled with goosebump raising weather.
There were goosebumps on my skin but I didn't have my sweater.
I thought it would be better if we sat closer together.
You wrapped your arms around me and were my warmth spreader.
You made my heart melt and now I will forever be your debtor.

So long as my spirit still
Is glad of breath
And lifts its plumes of pride
In the dark face of death;
While I am curious still
Of love and fame,
Keeping my heart too high
For the years to tame,
How can I quarrel with fate
Since I can see
I am a debtor to life,
Not life to me?

(rough translation)*

debt
debt
debtor

tonight it howls
in tumbleweed tongues
beaten about and windblown
over a barren, over-there road
a dust-tongue stretches
licking skeletons
all the way to feet of the silver hills
that lie in the moon of the Little Karoo

debt
debt
debt in vein

Mother is a stranger
just standing there and sipping tea
in another woman’s blue kitchen

debt
debt
debt in her

all staring at the cracks
reflecting on the windowpane
the fragile earth’s
dismembered

but

the rain will come
my child
the rain will come
prophesy the rust-red clouds

all bellowing in the wind

Mother will stand
unequivocal
as untamed buffalo grass --
rooted and valid

You can rate me,
You can bait me,
You can freight me,
You can strait me,
Simulate me,
Even better
Drop a roofie,
Game a debtor.
You're so groovy, misbehaving,
Misbehaving,
Give it to me,
Trouble waiting,
Fascinating,
Always mating,
You can wake me,
You can slave me,
You can grade me,
You can shave me,
Integrate me,
I pulsating
A new navy,
All the skimmings,
Underpinning
Jehovah's witness,
Keep on stalking,
Better fitness,
Keep on shocking,
Shell is thinning,
Gettin' gotten,
Rot 'n' reeling.

Don't touch my bikini.
Better smile when you see me,
You can stare
That's a freebie.
Don't touch my bikini.
Looking is free,
But touching's gonna cost you
Something.

Smooth and lanky,
Hanky panky,
Got no treat or
New York Yankee,
Super leader,
Count to seven,
Go to Paris,
Break the leaven,
Roger Maris,
Bleed the Czar,
Shooting star,
You're so levy,
You're so sunny,
Getting ready,
Here's the money,
Socking heady,
Making honey,
Toasting herons,
That's not funny,
Waiter Betty,
Way too ****,
You're so on it,
You're so honest,
You can fool me,
You remold me,
All the preachers never told me,
Heavy breathing
Punting reason,
Welcome season.

Don't touch my graffiti.
Smile if you dare,
Oily oinkers everywhere.
Keep watching, you graffiti.
Next time you'll learn
That touching's gonna cost you
Something.

Hear my cry dear God,
My cry of sorrow.
Do you have any strength I could borrow?

Cause I'm living with a head full of fears.
I've held on to them for all these years.
They've been crawling all inside my head.
And I want to be set free from this horrible side of me.
I want faith. I want your hope. I want it now.
I know for a fact you won't let me down.

How should I praise thee, Lord! how should my rhymes
Gladly engrave thy love in steel,
If what my soul doth feel sometimes
My soul might ever feel!

Although there were some forty heav’ns, or more,
Sometimes I peer above them all;
Sometimes I hardly reach a score,
Sometimes to hell I fall.

O rack me not to such a vast extent;
Those distances belong to thee:
The world’s too little for thy tent,
A grave too big for me.

Wilt thou meet arms with man, that thou dost stretch
A crum of dust from heav’n to hell?
Will great God measure with a wretch?
Shall he thy stature spell?

O let me, when thy roof my soul hath hid,
O let me roost and nestle there:
Then of a sinner thou art rid,
And I of hope and fear.

Yet take thy way; for sure thy way is best:
Stretch or contract me, thy poor debtor:
This is but tuning of my breast,
To make the music better.

Whether I fly with angels, fall with dust,
Thy hands made both, and I am there:
Thy power and love, my love and trust
Make one place ev’ry where.

I glimpse through the curtains
A flickering light,
And my imagination takes hold
On this stagnant spring night.

I fancy it a signal,
A call to something great;
It’s the start of an adventure,
The beckoning of fate.

When I investigate its source,
I know my life will change,
I’m in the beginning of a book
And my quest’s on the next page.

I’ll join up with a band of outcasts
To find a missing link,
There’ll be riddles for us to solve,
And an antagonist to outthink.

We’ll encounter many obstacles
As we fight to reach our goal,
Like a turncoat within our ranks,
Or an unexpected troll.

We’ll make camp along the roads we walk,
And dine on cheese and bread,
And our enemies will dog our steps,
But we’ll remain one pace ahead.

At some point along the way
I’ll discover a hidden skill,
It’ll be something supernatural,
Like the power of my will.

I’ll use it in the ******
For the ultimate defeat,
To overcome the opposition
And force them to retreat.

And we’ll celebrate our victory
Of evil overcome,
But our optimism will soon die down
As we realize what’s to come,

Our journey has reached its end
And we’ll be ****** aside by fate,
The world no longer needs us,
Now that we’ve accomplished something great.

The only thing that’s left to do
Is go back to where we’re from,
Back to unfamiliar lives
As the people we’ve become.

But when I finally get back home,
I’ll have nothing to regret,
I did what I was meant to do,
And no one will soon forget.

I made the difference only I could make,
And all is for the better,
I answered the call of destiny
And am no longer called its debtor.

I wish this were the case
In the reality that I’m in,
But another flash of light
Reminds me where I am.

Sitting in my bedroom,
As much in debt as ever,
Imagining that I was part
Of some life-changing endeavor.

I wish that fate would show its face,
And tell me what to do,
Even just a hint
Would be enough to get me through.

As I think back on my story
I see the light again,
And I wonder, if I go outside
Will my adventure at last begin?

Maybe this is it
And destiny chose tonight.
Maybe fate is waiting
For me to investigate the light.

It's 3:43 AM.
I can't close my eyes.
My hearts beating too loud.
My stomach is twisting.
I don't want to be anyone's trouble.
Will I ever be something?
Could I be your honey?
Even though, I have no money?
I need to work.
I'll buy lotto tickets.
Do I have to strip? Or do ****?
What does it take?
My first payment is two-hundred and thirty-six dollars
twenty-three cents.
It increases after two years.
I don't have a job yet-
I graduate this May- if I don't die.
If I don't die, I will have to pay
this November.
Our anniversary is in November.
Better find a government job.
Make that cash!
I don't want a sugar daddy with a white mustache.
She said, "Everyone has loans."
Yeah, but I'm no one.
What does it take to get paid
loads
loads
loads
of cash?
I didn't care for money.
Capitalism grants me
no choice but to
Wonder what it's like at the bottom of the ocean?
No structure- it's dark.
I'll become fish food,
in some rich man's aquarium.

Yes those familiar moorings of life have been effectively vacated your home the homes of family and
Friends slipping down to the sea of eternity leaving earths moorings passing all knowing and familiar
Objects blown into this unknown sea the mixed emotions of fear and in trepidation but then from the
Unknown horizon a knowledge understanding undergirds your feet possibly the same last words of
Steven Jobs a man of his talent and experience not easily moved to give a Radom response but in the
Presence of his very children and everything he loved on earth he looked beyond them as earthly eyes
Closed heavenly ones opened and he said wow three times how many times did you say wow Joe I know
Everyone is comforted differently but for me it came this way I received a religious periodical and in it
Was a couple being given advice and training for their upcoming wedding it went on to say Pastor Joe
Told them this and then he told them they needed to this and then pastor Joe used and example this
Way each time I heard your name more peace flowed into my heart I think I even got something from
Hearing Joe Bindens name Joe I tell you I can’t understand it just some year’s back Joe Binden used to
Set on these senate subcommittee meetings he always handled the situation very well now it’s like he is
A whole deferent person Joe they always used to say if something happened to the president we will
Be left with him to run our nation oh don’t say it’s so Joe well it must be great being where everything
Is run right here is what people don’t know if they prayed like they used to the very fabric of our nation
Would change the government can’t do it I don’t care what Obama thinks or wants it to do God alone
Promises he will bless if we honor him Joe with immortal power he overrides all trouble to build up his
People we could go back to less anxiety less unemployment want to straighten out banking and wall
Street pray as a God fearing nation he knows those people it was mind blowing when everything first
Blew the lid off then the government intervention they have a job but it wasn’t that one those guys
Are slipperier than any mere man can address let God come on the scene see what results would occur
Then they do the country disgracefully then turn around and reward themselves and leave the American
People holding the mess that still reeks I think if we checked not even Bible history but just history
You would find how great God has handled messes that were inextricable it’s all going the way of the
Lawless we or our government representatives are like the blind trying to fight the sighted it will
Continue unless we turn back to our great benefactor Joe you and I know there is no greater sight
Than seeing a family heading off to church and the wonderful rewards that it offers first in this life and
Then in the next the word says if you know to do good and don’t it’s a sin Joe in this case it is in its own
Way it is treason to yourself and to our nation the word says that if a nation forgets God it will be turned
Into hell if this isn’t hell I don’t know what is Joe you had to hear it life time democrats are voting
Republican they see their Party consumed by madness to spend it would have nice if something beside
A mountain of debt was created that looms over us like a vulture if you’re a debtor your are its slave
We need old Abe in a different sense to set us free this truth as the bible says truth will set you free
God can use any man to be that answer if we lift him up in prayer telling God we have come to our
Senses and know that no human answer will change the deadly course were on make your choice before
You vote futility at the polls make your vote for God who rescues and saves its our countries only chance
Rest in peace beloved Joe

3 AM, I roll onto the floor;

No use trying to sleep anymore.

Anxiety shakes me to the core;

I walk to the bathroom, I lock the door.



The raven pecks at the window, so I let it in;

It tells me there's no escape from my sin.

It says that I've failed, and I'll fail again,

It says it never lasts when I try to repent...



I humor the raven, I listen to its lore;

I begin to think it's right, as my head grows sore.        

Will I ever different from who I was before?

Quoth the raven: "Nevermore".



Once upon a midnight dreary,

A midnight I have dreaded dearly,

I crawl to the sink, and I can't help fearing

The raven's words I hated hearing.



"I'm sorry!" I cry, "I want to do better!"

But how many times have I written those letters?

How can I ever pay? I'm the hopeless debtor;

And I can't always hide in the fabric of my sweater.



The raven tells me I'm a figurative *****;

I'm huddled in the cabinet, writing metaphors.

Will I ever have a mind free of blood and gore?

Quoth the raven: "Nevermore".



Why won't you leave me alone, you Godforsaken bird!?

To hell with you, and your pessimistic words!

I'm sick of being beaten, broken down, and disturbed;

You might be right, but you might be absurd.



I will try to change once more, as the night gives up its reign;

For a short while, I will return to being sane.

But the night will come again, as the sun can not remain,

And with it comes the raven, waiting at my window pane.



Why me!? Why me!? What does it bother me for?

I tried to do what's right! I can't take this anymore!

Will it ever stop peck, peck, pecking at my door!?

*Quoth the raven: "Nevermore".

he told me, "put down the cigarette,"
worried i'd get sick.
i looked at him with regret,
craving nicotine like a nervous tick.
we left around half past twelve,
just to clear the air,
leaving my heart on the shelves.
he asked, "is this really fair?
breaking my heart this way?"
he reiterated his worry.
and i laughed it all away
"don't fret, my honey.
i'm clean and new.
my heart has been glued
and is no longer in two.
i'm eating my food -
see look! my ribs!
they're aren't as pronounced.
maybe one day we really can have kids."
his hand held mine as he denounced
that i was still no good
i was still no better
than before emotions would flood
his heart, i still his debtor.
so on i went,
forward to the waves,
and on this pole i leant,
until i came to with sun's rays...
and i became one with the sea.
she is more than i would ever be.

Here I am
Spending nights at school.
Seeing scenes and sights
That are everyday
But that I don't see every day.
I feel like I need to return the favor
For feeling good.

Oh wait...

I am in debt already.
Even though there aren't signs
Everywhere
Telling me that my grace period is fleeting,
I know the consequence of feeling good
And doing something for me.

Where there's good felt,
There's a bad waiting to co-mingle,
Such is the yin-yang
That shapes a circulating balance of events.

I sit to stare at a nice small brick waterfall outside
The education building,
But I'm still walking debt.

I jog around campus
Air crisp, the sun only seen by final red luminaries,
The feel of the seasonal conversion
From summer to fall...
But I'm jogging debt at this point.

I enjoy my meal plan food,
Good-tasting food I'll admit
In my own opinion,
Getting my fill of a surrounding
Variety of eats...
But each step is a step toward the realization
And back-hunching weight of debt.

I enjoy sitting at a swivel desk
At all my classes
And meeting and talking with new people...
But all at the expense of debt's presence.

I have my own room and
Free ride on the public transit...
But knowing that someday there will be a price
For all this.

The pleasure of seeing campus' sexiest women
Will also crumble
At debt's feet...

Debt to friends,
Debt to pay back the school
In currency and by achieving
The education I am pursuing
And hope to keep with.

Listening to music
While running the track,
Shooting hoops,
In my dorm,
Lifting weights,
All to the tune
Of D-E-B-T.

Again, it's all worth it though.
As of today, this is what I've been craving,
What my spirit sought as freedom.

Loans, debt,
Reimbursement,
Costs, expenses,
Purchases,
I escape these words in fun and fascination,
But I will feel the fleeting effects.
Fun makes time fly
And debt is never late.

But suppose there was no debt at all:
No debt to self or anywhere or
To anyone besides.
If exchange was only a fantasy,
Then there would be no incentive
For the societal life,
And freedom may as well
Be isolation.

Debt gives me something to work for
So that life isn't just handed to me.
There are things I should avoid,
But if I can't,
That doesn't mean life ends,
Rather here would be an indication
That my life story isn't supposed to
Achieve the norm.

Maybe the debt can be forgiven,
But only at the debtor's expense.

Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of *******.

2 Behold, I Paul say unto you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing.

3 For I testify again to every man that is circumcised, that he is a debtor to do the whole law.

4 Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace.

5 For we through the Spirit wait for the hope of righteousness by faith.

6 For in Jesus Christ neither circumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision; but faith which worketh by love.

7 Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth?

8 This persuasion cometh not of him that calleth you.

9 A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.

10 I have confidence in you through the Lord, that ye will be none otherwise minded: but he that troubleth you shall bear his judgment, whosoever he be.

11 And I, brethren, if I yet preach circumcision, why do I yet suffer persecution? then is the offence of the cross ceased.

12 I would they were even cut off which trouble you.

13 For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another.

14 For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

15 But if ye bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not consumed one of another.

16 This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh.

17 For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.

18 But if ye be led of the Spirit, ye are not under the law.

19 Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness,

20 Idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies,

21 Envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.

22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,

23 Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

24 And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.

25 If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.

26 Let us not be desirous of vain glory, provoking one another, envying one another.

Whispers at sunset.
Is it just ***?
It's a revolution.
Sofa surfing.
Eating toast.
Pulling back front room curtains.
Enlightening.

A revolution indeed.
Revolting.
Bed space.
Head lace.
Bed hair.
Who dares.
Caring less.
Red dress.
Chucked on the floor.
Stockings.
Suspenders.
Say no more.

Sociology lessons.
Violet moods.
Awful foods.
Sunrises daily.
A million folk existing.
Existing in bedsit land.
Government hand outs.
Signing forms to claim the dole.
Once a fortnight
Stuck in a hole.

Dining on mice that dash out of  holes.
Seeking slices of stale cold pizza.
Left on the side overnight.
Gasping for air.
Drowning in debt.
Living hard
Hard and fast.
Living too long.
In the zone of regret.
(c)Livvi MMXV

Brothers and sisters in Christ, would we look at Jesus hanging on the cross in excruciating torment, gasping for every agonizing breath, pierced through, covered in blood and bearing our offenders' sin along with ours, only to say, "It isn't enough! It is NOT finished. There is still more to be accomplished, a greater payment yet to be rendered. You did not complete the work or satisfy the debt!"...?

For here is the thing: if we don't believe that His sacrifice was enough to sufficiently pay the debt for everything they have done to us then how can we ever possibly believe it was enough to pay for all we have done to Him? And if we don't believe that then how can we be saved?

This is certainly not to say that the process of working through all the issues of forgiveness is not an extremely steep and difficult climb or that it does not take time. It is! It does! Sometimes it takes years to reach the top, where we are completely set free from the pain and emotional struggle of it. But the choice to forgive, the decision to actually begin the process and step onto the path is not optional for any true disciple of Jesus Christ, for He has clearly called us all to take up our cross and die daily and to count ourselves dead to sin already. We have been commanded and empowered by Him to forgive, and He Himself will work it fully in and through us if we will only yield to Him.

But when we refuse to forgive, we are only digging through the trash heap and holding ourselves prisoner within it, yet somehow convinced we will find gold there. Do we not understand how ludicrous this is? We are beloved and royal children living as self-defeating street urchins—fists up, ready for a fight and buried up to our necks in a back-alley dumpster looking for rotten scraps. The King is calling, "Come out of there, beloved child! Come home to Me and feast!" But we respond, "No, not yet! There are still more *****, decaying bags in here to scavenge through. I haven't checked that dark, rat-invested corner yet. There may be something good in there for me!" What?! Are we insane? Stop digging, let go of the bag, let Him lift you once and for all out of the dumpster and come home! Realize who you are and Whose you are!

Authentic and heart-changing forgiveness begins when we look honestly and humbly at the offense, call it what it is without minimizing it or making excuses for it, feel the full weight of the painful debt incurred against us by the offender, realize that it is simply not within his power or means to ever sufficiently pay us back in a way that could restore us to wholeness (even if he desperately wanted to), and then look fully to Jesus, trusting Him to bear the entire weight of it for us and to provide complete payment for all of the damages done to us.

It comes when we decide to give the debt 'note' fully over to Him, transferring it to Him, like a mortgage company transferring (for their own protection and profit) a high-risk house note to a different lender and thus releasing the debtor from any further obligation to re-pay us, breaking the chains of our previous expectations off of him and putting them all onto Christ. And when we do, we will find that in the transfer we come out far richer than we were before the offense was even made and the debt ever incurred.

In forgiveness we have to both lay down something and take up something, for our heart refuses to ever walk away with nothing to cling to. We have to hand our offender's heavy debt completely over to the One Who willingly carried it on Himself, along with every one of our own sins and sorrows, all the way to the cross, nailing it there and paying it in full, and then we have to receive afresh the gift of His infinite fullness in exchange.

With every offense (small or great) there arises a subsequent path of forgiveness. The greater the offense, the steeper and longer the climb to get to the end; but the steeper and longer the climb, the more spectacular and rare the views along the way and from the top. Whenever someone hurts us, we can either stay in the barren valley with the offense, miserably imprisoned by it and trying hard to keep our offender chained to it as well, or we can kick loose the chains and set out on the less-traveled mountain trail leading to freedom, healing and rest. The trailhead is the cross, and Jesus is waiting to meet us there. All we have to do is take the first step onto the trail and begin to walk it with Him as our intimate Companion and determine (and keep daily determining) to stay on it as long as it takes and one step at a time with Him as our faithful Guide, for He will certainly lead us all the way to the summit.

And we will certainly need an all-powerful, all-knowing and ever-present Guide on such an adventurous trek, as this trail is ever-winding, full of dangerous switchbacks, difficult ascents and narrow, hidden passes; but the scenery will be breathtaking and the fellowship life-changing. As we travel further and higher our perspective will dramatically change along the way, and the offense back down in the valley will become smaller and smaller in the distance until we can barely make out more than a shadow of it for all of the beauty surrounding and enfolding us. It is not necessarily that the memory of it will ever completely be forgotten so much as it will be brilliantly reframed by an exceedingly better and higher view.

At the end of the trail there lies a secret alpine garden, lush with various kinds of healing fruit that rarely grow ripe on the lower slopes of the mountains and do not grow at all in the valley of unforgiveness. Their taste, fragrance and restorative powers are beyond anything that might be understood or even imagined by those who have never dared nor sensed the need to venture any further than the foothills. Nevertheless, the garden is always open and the fruit readily available to any and all who would choose to make the glorious journey together with their LORD...and none who do will ever be sorry they came.

So why do we so often struggle to do it?

I think when we look honestly and microscopically at hindrances to forgiveness it is idolatry that stands out as the most culpable suspect. For when we forget that everything we need and most desire is found in Christ and that everything we have comes from His loving, wise and faithful hand and then someone else fails to give to us what we are so firmly convinced we need from them or takes from us what we are so sure we require, it is easy to feel justified in withholding from them our complete pardon.

It is idolatry as well which blinds us from seeing how deeply and desperately we ourselves depend on God's mercy. For when anything becomes more important to us than intimacy with Christ, we are quick to overlook our own grievous impediments to that intimacy and therefore quick to overlook Christ's unequivocal command to forgive as we have been forgiven. So then we cannot fairly approach forgiveness without humbly keeping ever before us the awareness of our own stubbornly idolatrous tendencies which seem to be always lurking under every prickly bush.

Another common but still idolatrous stumbling block is our failure to grasp and cherish God's absolute sovereignty over us, which then causes us to unduly credit our offenders with power they do not actually have—the power to ruin our lives—and to mistakenly think that by refusing to forgive we can somehow regain from them the stolen upper hand, either by trying to pay them back with evil or by trying to force them to pay us back with good, emotionally holding them prisoner and refusing to unlock the door until we have sufficiently punished them or until they have sufficiently 'blessed' us. This is a prideful self-worship which pre-supposes that our lives and their avenging are best and most safely kept in the control of our own hands and that we are entitled to more 'good' than God Himself is willing to bestow on us. It is also a dangerous exalting of others which wrongly assumes that they have within themselves the ability to grant us enough 'good' to ever fully settle their deficit account and satisfy our wounded hearts.

When we forget who we are and all we have in Christ, idolatry can also lead us into a more subtle, less honest and in some ways more damaging form of unforgiveness, one that often masquerades convincingly for a time as forgiveness but is far from the real thing. For if our offender himself is the idol whose love and approval we think we cannot live without we may be very quick to make shallow, insincere and enabling offerings to him, trying desperately to quell any conflict and to ingratiate ourselves to him (wanting to retain peace with him at any cost so that we might retain a piece of him and determining to think well of him in the hope that he might think well of us). We will call it forgiveness and think it truly is but wonder why the issue never seems to be quite settled in our heart, why he never seems to be able to meet the standard of the 'high place' on which we have erected him and why we always seem to be trying to charge his offenses against us to everyone else's account.

As long as our 'pardon' is rooted in fear of rejection, resentment and abandonment (or in any other insecure human emotion), it cannot qualify as genuine forgiveness or obedience to Christ and therefore cannot bring any measure of real peace or lasting resolution to our hearts or to the relationship. It will only keep us locked up within our own limited and easily drained ability to love, suffocating both ourself and our offender, causing resentment on both sides and robbing us of the joy of entering into a deeper love that can only come from trusting in and drawing upon the overflowing fountain of Christ's love. True forgiveness will always extend out of that flow of intimacy with Him and out of genuine worship of Him, for we can only walk like Him when we walk closely with Him and crave Him above all else.

I am a prisoner
of words
done said,
debtor
to the those
urging
deep in my head,
brilliant light
that turns us
into circling moths
and it grips
like the lines
that forms the dots
for those
a blurred
dream
coming into being
like a meme,
ever present
like the shadows
waiting to be one
beyond the dark,
unseen like
the underground movement
the arteries felt
the choke of the smoke
more work for my heart,
there is method to my madness
otherwise, this wouldn’t be an art

Having arrived at Patmos, on the southeastern ***** of Skalá, Wonthelimar observed that the Seleucid ships were there. Already knowing of the myth of Seleucus and of his Divinity, since her mother Laodice, according to Vernarth's parapsychology parallel account, and aligned with Wonthelimar, that she had presumed that her son Seleucus had been conceived by carnal union with Apollo. These oracular dreams separated them from Vernarth, for a certain Antigone of the imperial Seleucid with the anchor of the ring that Apollo had captivated from the gematological extract, now wading in the quantum of Chauvet, which had been identified from Gaul.

Wonthelimar says: “from such a thigh such as a Vas Auric you will be anchored at your anchor, in a proud fallacy if you have been engendered by Apollo if it is that your mother temporizes in a hallway idyll or Antigone, and not of someone wearing a ring that smells like broken neo-Hellenic dreams in one that anyone believed, born of one being or another like me from a mythological Iberian, but being carried from a very young age on the haunches of a Bucephalus. Here I believe where Laodice would be or would be caught by knowing that creatures like me, spawned in the darkness of a cave, should wear that ring, but in the seventh ring of the horns of my paternal Ibez with its antlers constantly growing, and in my forehead having one of them in the antlers of the female that fed me in the reign of darkness and in the heights of the mountains. Upon leaving Chauvet I embraced her suspended antlers, and when I separated from the sixth ring, my female nurse with her pale neck offered me the seventh so that I would do it with brown illusions to be like her in the maternal ***** of the Rhone that in altitudes Thousands leveled out over seven hundred meters, with each ring being the power of a reign of darkness filled with light and undeserved talent. In the autumn, my female mother would get involved when I timidly approached from my cavern full of aldehyde, eliminating it through my mouth and eyes, creating from them the brave fear of misunderstood symbols..., if you saw it, your Seleucus...? You would abandon your divinity with a single breeze of the elements when you would recover your anchor rings on the roads. On the other hand, I wake up in his ring because of the meager light that intimidates the converted mountain beings, who interpose me in their combats, if an antler was or is torn from one of my attempts of frustration, after not seeing what it is not noticed even in thousands of distant blushes, and not even in the emission of the eyes of a hypothetical Apollo "

Behind the philastic zoomorphic of the exalting from Seleuco's mouth, the bilocated Epidaurus on Patmos was lowered by the steps of an amphitheater, bossed around in the conclusive closing of his story behind bars or horns that splintered his revoked mention of aspiring to a ring, which is not and will be nothing more than a synonym of despair, more than an immortal that is now abbreviated from the stigma of co-founding itself in meaning as a temporary truth of Hellenism, deducing to qualify its origin as a plus part and ascendant servant, but not descendant in shirts that have to transvestite him on the Epidaurus proscenium. Seleucus began to doubt his converted eagerness to lash out the mythological divine lineage for a sanction, in which the lightning bolts of the stunning sky themselves demystified their annoying gales of submission, by dynasties of the proverbial Kleos for the purposes of fame, and politics that open the loaded winds with cots of gold to marry with diligent nebulosity in transliterated and linked tripods in cumulus universes, where the first two abuse the fulcrum of the obverse that falls by gravity on no man's land..., here is the myth of anchoring and not of to aspire to a ring or earring that will drag us to heights where the icy cold wind crowns you on legs of bronze and not of gold "

These coins were carefully observed by those who observed them from a gorge, capturing the humility and infallibility of a being that came from the entrails of Chauvet, interpreting courses that awaited Seleucus. The appendages were detached from the koilones and tiers that jumped over it, to press and narrow the diazomas or corridors that were already deployed like a laser in the cubations of the consciousness of Megarón and the Vas Auric of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, which already was made ubiquitous. It was released from an Alexandrian Greek fire on the jaws of the hecatomb of the ex-generals of Alexander the Great. Here in funeral periphrasis, few prostitutes rusted behind his inheritance, each with their bronze panoplies and banners in favor of Leonatus in the hands of the Satrap Antigonus, Ptolemy, and the most outstanding applicant of his divine inheritance, Seleucus. They all meet outside the Eurydice ship in Skalá to settle decisions and franchises of ancestry, for the purpose of divinizing the destinies of their tasks and interests, to sink them into the first stone under a base of faith, and of those who will come from the return of the Anastásis like Greek resurrection of bread and wine, Psomí kai krasí…; "The Mashiach for being of whoever and whatever"

Seleuco says: "Psomí kai krasí, Bread and Wine for all." We have revived our leader, who in good time should resurrect us all for his mentions of the new future of fallen leaders and heroes. We are not oblivious to your expiration and perhaps your negligence in Babylon, but the steps of a king require other Seleucid measures and their oriental legitimating, being oligarchies that should morally do what is known. Antigonus, Ptolemy, and I appear here with me, preserving periods that leave us of mediumistic notions of the grim, who does not allow us to close our eyes. We confer the denounced ambiguity of previous riches that do not fit in any silo that can contain it, nor what happens to the secondary after diving early in the morning mounted on your Bucephalus, full of its manes swollen with the posterity of a Roman emperor besieging it, without advancing by requirements or where he rides now in steel wastelands, and not through upholstered steppes of the cautious ensign on your guard and in the solemn light of life that the **** leaves behind in your symbolic sarcophagus! We want you to join us, and to be able to banish our distinctions from where Apollo has given his eternal sleeper in the sense of an ephemeral truth, which makes light of flesh colors in the fiery figure of your coat of arms.
We have stolen the traced areas of Judea and from there Maccabees have donated us inscriptions back to my threat to you and Antigonus,... to my enemy debtor, but even so, I come to repair unevenness and want to repair idylls more remote from the Euphrates to settle in the ranks of Ptolemy. We have all sinned to look for you in our slogans, gaining fleeting territory, but we have lost your lux, already well said in my sanctuary in Didyma, but in seconds that continue from the first, already raising flags and heralds that increase your vox, more than a David that defeats a colossus; that from his own death resurrects...! "

All perceptibly dismayed looked at Alexander the Great who was behind a canopy listening to everything with his ear attached to the canvas that separates him from a presumed truth. He draws the curtain and pounces before everyone with stealth and courtesy, incontinenti he speaks to them after inhuman efforts to move away from the stagnant sub-understanding of his former commander.

Alexander the Great says: “The aureoles of sanctity have dislocated my Beelzebub, and the brambles brush against the Scabious flowers like widows that sing in the cenotic lines of my hands from a purgative cathartic in its graceful subfamily that makes my eyes heterochromatic de facto, between the thistles that are spiced between the aromatherapy of the Scabiosa cretica. In their oblong shape with pincushion flowers, they make the basting their nailed pins waiting to be used so that my desolations are not lost even after being just reborn. After the annual Attic calendar in Elaphebolion where they walked on me to resist the deer of Artemis, in attempts to get up and ***** me in the sessile voices of Scabiosa dispelled by Vernarth that have raised me in the involved species, like a chalice of unstitched shreds in seven holes, leaning back to the Aquenio in his fruit tree that is stained with lavender-blue, and the Lepidoptera bringing Vernarth from Gethsemane and the anti-Sarnic clothing that makes him exalted. Now from here, I harangue you, like immaterial troops that do not move their courage, with enemies that are left open to the fear of my walk on them, on rams of the imminent danger of warbling victory with steely Falangists. What a nationalist Faskéloma attribute as obscene fuss and Pashkien that reorders the armies that invade its headless stadiums, in raised nightingales that chirped the sadness of seeing myself fallen on the nose of the common soldiers and full of scabies in Arbela. I have to fly with you my lost flocks ready of Apollo surrendering twilight fire, and of moon-sun between the legs of a colossus forged by greater fires, speaking to me of Macedonian triumph, under the yoke of the crackle of a people that lies taciturn with the satraps in Hercules's cunning conquering in the cheers only after three laps they made debits from my left, while I saw the light of Uriel coming towards me in the Lepidoptera with his sheathing, and entirely of a horse placed Beelzebub, to transmigrate him with me from Cinnabar chains and honor what serves the world also that dies with me in Thrace or Alexandria Bucephalus, after the south of Corinth, regardless of me, who already sensed that he was anti-diadoco..., being at that time a leader of the Sacred League of Delphic Amphibian, after feeling so much pain immediately from dying..., I still had life left in the Scabiosa flask and in bronze vessels that I removed from the swirling wind of the s Thermopylae, leaving me stranded with nothing but chimeras of winning the world, but losing a Life that had just begun "

Meanwhile, at the dawn of Vas Auric was projected at relative height, Syrmus's light and resounding fall were shown when he attacked the back of Macedonia -... here Alexander makes a gesture of modest resilient power... -, after he glimpsed to Saint John the Apostle how he moved with his staff the tricolor clouds transmitted by the troops of the Tribalios and that was crushed by the carnal battery of Macedonian cavalry that immolated them before their knowledge, and then after their three thousand victims..., which according to some outstanding Hypaspists also rushed them far beyond the Danube where they were engulfed in the confinement of the Getas in thousands, and in greater proportion but with leather rafts, the Hellenic troops crossed this same river and with a few thousand they conquered them filling their saddlebags..., not gold... !, but brandy that burned all the pastures where no Bucephalus crossed by fire.

So, now I have confessed that he is thine,
And I my self am mortgaged to thy will,
Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine
Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.
But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
For thou art covetous, and he is kind,
He learned but surety-like to write for me
Under that bond that him as fist doth bind.
The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
Thou usurer, that putt’st forth all to use,
And sue a friend, came debtor for my sake;
So him I lose through my unkind abuse.
    Him have I lost, thou hast both him and me;
    He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

Dead hearts
Live hopes
Hand over your soul
Hark, now begins the eternal toll
Find a place to rest your head
You belong to the Kingdom of The Dead

the ancient anxiety of dogs.

has winter
no levy
it cannot call.

bread;

the saying of bread.          

bald man
in a hair salon

religion.

but also, bravery.

our present loss, lost
to the foreclosure
of immediacy.

litany's take,
a rake.

treads your boy
to banquet-

passes my own
pulling a mouth
from a wire fence
and waves.
 
was not believed
a child

this faith.

the strength of my father
to **** his due.
the strength of yours, too.

be still.  and full.

has place
no debtor
in lull.

The price paid, begrudging none
The True Debtor knows the cost
Parts willingly, and would again
Should ever more be required
Feeling each moment that more is owed
Though so little, so little is asked

Giving all, every drop
Of heartsblood for the cause
For none greater exists
Nor could such ever be risen above
Always asking, What more, what more
Can I, to you, bestow?

And the smile, the touch, alone
Are the given response
Satisfying, overwhelming
The True Debtor, with luck unmatched
Pays again, 'til naught remains
But neither fades nor diminishes

And so Love moves the two
Each feeling the debt
Each paying their all, their all again
Until it cannot be said to whom the other belongs
Until they cannot be told apart

Sometimes when things get bad
It's hard to imagine that greatness can ever follow.

Sometimes when things get bad
The *** of gold seems eternally hollow.

As if an eternal sunset may have occurred
And the sun took it's last bow.

And through the dimmed silky moonlight
You can only see grey clouds.

But that's only sometimes
And the world gets better.

I can promise you this.
You won't always be a debtor.

One day you'll collect
And the sun will shine brighter.

And you'll stand proud
Because you were the last fighter.

So keep pushing
And get up when you've been slammed down.

Because a human with such brilliance
Does not belong on the ground.

Do not listen to unrealistic words
Go forth and persevere.

So you can always be proud
When you see your face in the mirror

And when the light doesn't seem to shine
And your lifelines look severed.


Use your own mind to remember


"Sometimes" is not forever.