"pascha" poems
***** people: us and them
Slippery, dark and warm, like *** lips, kissed on midnight beaches.
She weighed less than air.
Smells like wet blossom.
No kissing, only you can touch.
Hard dollars in my hard. Harder now.
Door closed. Back out, I don’t look at the others, they know of course.
I washed my skin and look at me in the mirror. Funny how old you can get.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
On the Western side of the Sea of Galilee
between Tiberias and Capernaum
the apostle of the apostles was born.
O holy myrrh-bearer, Mary from Magdala
the red egg in your hand Tiberius Caesar's debacle
would be of "Speak now or Forever rest in Peace"
* The poem is based on the Paschal eggs' tradition. During a dinner with the emperor Tiberius Caesar, Mary Magdalene was speaking about Christ's Resurrection. Caesar scoffed at her, saying that a man could rise from the dead no more than the egg in her hand could turn red. Immediately, the egg turned red. Because of this, icons of Mary Magdalene sometimes depict her holding a red egg. Also, this is believed to be an explanation for dyeing eggs red at Pascha.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:43 PM UTC