31.12.08

The Happy New Years



It is so to speak
not over, not even
started. This page
where the thumb
rests for a moment
is already done
and mulled over.
Two giant priests
or pagans, two
rock hard idols
talk to no one,
not even
to each other.
Sun rises, sun sets.
Building down,
blood everywhere
more of that
special lust for life
found in the imprints.
Baby is held above
the crowd
in green coffins,
the sounds above
are whirring ghosts,
the incoming tracers
and revved up Jessies.





30.12.08

The Plains Revisited

May Allah be pleased with what I write today,
be called the sharpest swords of heaven
and inkpots drained into the river nigh
that pours with blood and the fearless cry
of Hossein who lay in a dirt bound grave
it is time to rise and claim the right
from those filled with rage and blight.
Among the stars that light the night
are pure spirits whose gift was death
and lost the battle for those to come
and those that follow the misery home.
The nation that lost its place
by stealing land for its own race
no appeal is granted to the chosen
their burnt star is bitter and frozen.
Their hands clench tightly to the skin
of babies and women, feeble old men
that choke to death on thirst and hunger
and steadfast with nothing but faith to plunder.
In heaven Zuljanah awaits his rider
pulled up from the ground with grass and thunder,
the horse is yet upon his knees
though older than the cedar trees
patient and well fed on paradise plums,
full of euchalyptus, his scent is pure
as it wafts from under his blood soaked saddle.
A place awaits his tender hooves
that stomp the groves and burns the eyes
because it is watered with ancient lies
fermented blood of dogs and spies,
tended by hands that will burn in hell
for what they did and did not tell.

Long dry plains did swallow
the secrets of jinn and men
a history kept neatly and told again
when holy war is said to be
the cause of all our misery.
Who then can complain
about the stories that were not printed
all human wisdom spurned and stinted
because the material world agrees
with the desires of kings on killing sprees.
No one hopes to take the blame
or worry their friend with talk of shame,
too much is on the line
when help is provided in oysters and wine.
Yet on his knees awaits
the horse who guards paradise
his rider ready to open the gaits
and loose poor Zulfigar from its sheath
upon the world as it must be
because it was written, a life must be free
to call upon the helpers of heaven
who recognize the disaster that started
before one book was revealed,
the Red Sea parted.
Alas the steel is forged in time
has been oiled with the blood of slime,
the memory of old scars sublime,
thousands of wounds to a sacred soldier
who upon his death leaned near the ear
of a horse whose price was completely clear,
asked his mount to gently lower
so his body might fall a bit slower
upon the ground where it now lay
to wait for the worst to come.
Into his robes that became his shroud
no mourning was ever that loud
when Hossein fell into the ground.
One son was slaughtered as he bade
farewell, an arrow caught within his neck
and for that whole crime a nation weeps
for ages, their hope is blind
except to the courageous
who know success is ready to mount
Zuljanah the most elderly of steed
whose feet approach the light of speed.
The hands and swords of the evil kin
still thrusting into the sallow skin
of the hunger stricken and believing men
will be cut like threads
as butter is sliced with the dullest knife
it won't take but a pin or a needle
to help the Creator even a little,
a word or a penny, a drop of ink is plenty.

28.12.08






ASHURA DAY MASSACRE


It is important to note that Israel is doing this to provoke a war with Lebanon and possibly Iran.

Americans need to know exactly what is happening. Since of course...we all "know" how badly America feels about the disaster caused when Israel the Devil suggested to our people to invade Iraq.

Today is the first day of Ashura which is the Shia event commemorating the slaughter of the grandson of the prophet (Hussein) and his family in Kerbala, Iraq some 1300 solar years in the past.

This is planned and premeditated and ALL Americans need to know that so that they do not involve themselves once again in the disgusting horror Israel is committing on this day.

We can only hope that Barak Obama IS who he says he is...a man who fought the apartheid regime in South Africa. We can only hope.

Israeli Jews Slaughter Family in Rocket Attack


27.12.08


The brutal assault on Gaza follows an incident in Southern Lebanon in which two farmers were abducted by Israeli Defense Forces on Saturday. The two men were abducted on Lebanese soil, taken to Israel where the Israeli Jews allowed dogs to attack them mercilessly. One of the men literally lost a foot in the disgusting violation of human rights. The two men were returned to Lebanon and are undergoing surgery to save their lives at this time.

Israel is picking it's own battle and has been told by Sayyed Nasrallah (long live the Sayyed who will inevitably respond) that the next time Israel picks such a fight will be the LAST time Israel picks such a fight. It will be the end of their path.

US News outlets of course are ignoring the disaster. They will report on it in due time after the shock of it wears off and as soon as they can find a competing news story....

Tell everyone you know about it. Bring it up during your "Christmas" parties where people gather together to share in the love of their so called religions and whatnots.

Embarrass everyone you know.

http://www.almanar.com.lb/NewsSite/NewsDetails.aspx?id=67700&language=en
Israel.

Oh, by the way....after months of starving Palestinians to death....they are literally to the point of boiling grass to eat...they are now on one of their usual murderous rampages and have killed hundreds of people. Like Jenin. Like Lebanon. Like Acre.

Israel is evil. Death to Israel and anyone who loves her.
The Revelation of Dyeing, yes, Dyeing.

To dye or not to dye, that is the question.

Many Christian sects (sects of the sect called Christianity) believe that in order to be admitted into the Kingdom of "God", a person must be baptized. I was baptized in the Roman Catholic church in my hometown.

Here is a fine article describing the real word in the ancient languages spoken by the prophets themselves i.e. Hebrew/Aramaic and Arabic. As well, in Greek (not a language of the prophets as far as we know), the word "baptize" is actually translated to mean "to dye":

http://www.islam4all.com/newpage9.htm

It all starts way back in the Bible when some curious actions and remarks are made in regards to baptizing. It isn't clear who is baptizing who:

"No man born of woman was ever greater than John the Baptist," says Jesus, "but the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than John."

That is from the hadith known to most people as The Gospels. The word "least" in this case has been erroneously translated to mean "more pious" when in fact, the word lesser meant "younger". In other words...the last one to arrive, the one with the least amount of "real time" tenure on the planet, would be the most important in terms of developing humanity's understanding of the Creator.

Patience they were told but instead, the new Christians and their monks and popes and translaters, took it all out of context and innovated practices that the people seemed to need in order to keep them unified. They invented things like Baptism, misconstrued it all together and today, we have many people in the world with a mistaken notion of baptism.

The article cited is long but well worth the effort for those interested in how Islam and the Quran supplanted the existent information in order to clarify the role of the prophets, the articles of faith and most of all, the Sunna (practices).

In the Quran, Yehye (pbuh) is noted in the Sura describing the life of the mother of Isa whose name was Mirium. It is perhaps one of the most important suras as it is given the place of 19. The number nineteen was given in order that those who disagreed with Islam and the last prophet might indeed put the pieces of the puzzle together. It is worth mentioning and very much so.


[19.7] O Zakariya! surely We give you good news of a boy whose name shall be Yahya: We have not made before anyone his equal.

It establishes that St. John (from the Aramaic/Arabic Yu'hannan) was the most important prophet up until that precise time. Add to it the remnants of what he is quoted in several of the gospels as having said about his position in regards to the "lesser" or "younger" prophets (Jesus/Isa and Mohamed, SA) as being "not as important". Add to it the puzzling role of baptizers in the Bible and voila! A logical story ensues about the way the Bible prophecied many things that have not been fufilled which led to impatience on the part of the writers of the Bible and the administrative staff at the Catholic church who implemented policies that they were mistaken about. Like Baptism.

Furthermore, the Quran tells the truth about who needs to get baptized, how they are to be baptized (with spirit and fire) and by WHOM.

So who gets this honor? I'll tell you.

[2.111] And they say: None shall enter the garden (or paradise) except he who is a Jew or a Christian. These are their vain desires. Say: Bring your proof if you are truthful.

[2.112] Yes! whoever submits himself entirely to Allah and he is the doer of good (to others) he has his reward from his Lord, and there is no fear for him nor shall he grieve.

[2.113] And the Jews say: The Christians do not follow anything (good) and the Christians say: The Jews do not follow anything (good) while they recite the (same) Book. Even thus say those who have no knowledge, like to what they say; so Allah shall judge between them on the day of resurrection in what they differ.

Allah via the angel Gibreel goes on to mention the rituals of Ibriheem:

[2.130] And who forsakes the religion of Ibrahim but he who makes himself a fool, and most certainly We chose him in this world, and in the hereafter he is most surely among the righteous.

[2.131] When his Lord said to him, Be a Muslim, he said: I submit myself to the Lord of the worlds.

[2.132] And the same did Ibrahim enjoin on his sons and (so did) Yaqoub. O my sons! surely Allah has chosen for you (this) faith, therefore die not unless you are Muslims.

[2.133] Nay! were you witnesses when death visited Yaqoub, when he said to his sons: What will you serve after me? They said: We will serve your God and the God of your fathers, Ibrahim and Ismail and Ishaq, one God only, and to Him do we submit.

With the good reminder about those who preceeded the last prophet and naturally, were not given the entire instruction...only a part of it to which they were faithful when they circumcized their sons:

[2.134] This is a people that have passed away; they shall have what they earned and you shall have what you earn, and you shall not be called upon to answer for what they did.

Allah then finalizes his order in one sentence. The ONLY time it is stated in the Quran and hence, it is one of those overlooked phrases that carries huge weight:

[2.138] (Receive) the baptism of Allah, and who is better than Allah in baptising? and Him do we serve. -The Cow in the Glorious Quran



Revelation. Those who continue to follow old rituals and decry Islam as a copy cat religion...well. Those who insist that if a person doesn't get baptized in their church and will go to hell because of that detail...are all in extreme error. Because this is the actual proclamation that wasn't given until Allah was good and ready. They just stopped listening before Allah was done:


25.12.08

Darla Whitehead Tells All


Or, what would Phillys Schlafly do?

Obviously, she would arm wrestle Alice. Alice of course would win because Alice could convince everyone that she had.

In a nutshell.

24.12.08

What We Have

Like nothing else in Tennessee. -Wallace Stevens

I started collecting the teeth
of my children long ago
but should have labeled them.
Each of their baby hats
and my own.
Fatima's was sewn
by the Jewish midwife
who delivered her
and still has cord blood on it.
Mine is black velveteen
and one could call it
a buggy bonnet.
DNA evidence is all
over the place.
We began to collect
empty mason jars two years ago
and two collector's plates
that are very fine,
one with hummingbirds
and the other has some cats
on it because we cannot
have cats in our home
because the dog
would eat them.
He just loves to eat cats.
It's all he thinks about
and when he dreams,
he runs and growls.
This is the runaway house
and we can't have
hummingbirds either.

For the Snowman of Sleepy Hollow

Try working for a change
and slipping it in
between bites and smokes
"woman as art object"
for instance
you see things quicker
when you try
to buy insurance
for a whole family
retirement
feed the dog
Bake a disingenuous
pie for the hubby
who originates
from a village
in a part of the world
not many people know
about. Say:
three or four kilometers
from there.
Then they know where it is.
Other than the L places
in the God tapped me
on the shoulder poem
when I said:

JFK
KKIA
LAX

Try doing it
on a wing and a prayer
get a job
and you see things
faster and try
to remember
that old addage.
My Dog Has Fleas
or now is the time
for all good men
to come to the aid
of their country.
She was a typist
for a while, knew
shorthand. My mom
worked as a cook
on ranches in the Old West.
It is old now.
Been through alot.
She's up there
in the VA cemetery
next to my dad.
Oh...tuberculosis.
She'd just love
the idea that I work
with the tubercular.
And go out in the back alley
to say to myself:
The Industrial Department
of the Metropolitan Life
Insurance Company.

December, 2008

it is only a description
of things past
the entire day spent
in suspicion, hard on
with doubt
knowing but not knowing
in the cloud of envy
a pin drops

she lives alone
and watches QVC
all night long

she breaks
in her car
with a best-seller at lunch


I keep on working
through and stop
twice to smoke

Snowman, come here.

23.12.08

The Real Christmas Story as revealed in the Quran

No Joseph, no manger....no three wise men. A fig tree and a stream flowing beneath the post partum woman, the holiest of all women in history for whom the Nineteenth Sura is named: Marium.

[19.16] And mention Marium in the Book when she drew aside from her family to an eastern place;


[19.17] So she took a veil (to screen herself) from them; then We sent to her Our spirit, and there appeared to her a well-made man.

[19.18] She said: Surely I fly for refuge from you to the Beneficent God, if you are one guarding (against evil).

[19.19] He said: I am only a messenger of your Lord: That I will give you a pure boy.

[19.20] She said: When shall I have a boy and no mortal has yet touched me, nor have I been unchaste?

[19.21] He said: Even so; your Lord says: It is easy to Me: and that We may make him a sign to men and a mercy from Us, and it is a matter which has been decreed.

[19.22] So she conceived him; then withdrew herself with him to a remote place.

[19.23] And the throes (of childbirth) compelled her to betake herself to the trunk of a palm tree. She said: Oh, would that I had died before this, and had been a thing quite forgotten!

[19.24] Then (the child) called out to her from beneath her: Grieve not, surely your Lord has made a stream to flow beneath you;

[19.25] And shake towards you the trunk of the palmtree, it will drop on you fresh ripe dates:

[19.26] So eat and drink and refresh the eye. Then if you see any mortal, say: Surely I have vowed a fast to the Beneficent God, so I shall not speak to any man today.

[19.27] And she came to her people with him, carrying him (with her). They said: O Marium! surely you have done a strange thing.

[19.28] O sister of Haroun! your father was not a bad man, nor, was your mother an unchaste woman.

[19.29] But she pointed to him. They said: How should we speak to one who was a child in the cradle?

[19.30] He said: Surely I am a servant of Allah; He has given me the Book and made me a prophet;

[19.31] And He has made me blessed wherever I may be, and He has enjoined on me prayer and poor-rate so long as I live;

[19.32] And dutiful to my mother, and He has not made me insolent, unblessed;

[19.33] And peace on me on the day I was born, and on the day I die, and on the day I am raised to life.

[19.34] Such is Isa, son of Marium; (this is) the saying of truth about which they dispute.

[19.35] It beseems not Allah that He should take to Himself a son, glory to be Him; when He has decreed a matter He only says to it "Be," and it is.



And what is the likeness of the prophet known as "Jesus Christ" whose real name was Isa, son of Marium in the Quran?

He was created by Allah. There was no father and no sperm:

[3.59] Surely the likeness of Isa is with Allah as the likeness of Adam; He created him from dust, then said to him, Be, and he was.

[3.26] Say: O Allah, Master of the Kingdom! Thou givest the kingdom to whomsoever Thou pleasest and takest away the kingdom from whomsoever Thou pleasest, and Thou exaltest whom Thou pleasest and abasest whom Thou pleasest in Thine hand is the good; surety, Thou hast power over all things.


The dispute that arose because of this prophet's birth are a matter of contention to this very day. The Catholic Church hoped to trump the issue by declaring Isa a "God". They knew another prophet was coming eventually...but they did not know when.

Peace upon Isa on the day he was born, the day he will die and the day he will be resurrected.....with all the rest of us to testify as to what he actually said.








19.12.08





The Caylee Reason

"I praise Thee, Father
Lord of the heaven and earth
that Thou didst hide these things
from the wise and prudent,
and didst reveal them to the little ones."
-Matthew xi: 25


Man was created

anyway

This lip, that tooth
the swelling
in vestibule, in cognito
eye socket, stapes

No intervention
necessary.

Cone-shaped Time
in her mix-matched
funnel-like diagram:

anomoly, pear shaped
clot with buds
and beats.


Outrageous disclosures
in a vacuum, the statement
found in the shoe.

x-------mitochondria
o-------nucleus
)-------cell wall

Man was created


anyway.

Beside the flat
shadow
where the Moon runs
in her orbit

our planet folds
like batter
into cyclones and flurry.

Shaken and pegged
the sea not enough
nor the sky up to its limit.

Man was created

anyway.

To look, to find.
And no where to hide
when the death angel
comes around, when the guardians
of the hell fire throw souls in,
when stashing the body
of a baby in the swamps,

"do what you like"
said the Imam
to the questioner
who hoped for a little admonition,
"do what you like
and tell the angel of death
to go away and tell the guardians
of hell to go away
and "do what you like"

women in frigidaires and the
several feet that keep
washing up on the shores
of Biscayne Bay and that
girl in a trunk, her dress,

what was left of her
floating in the Gulf of Mexico
and this just in:
"Where she used to bury her pets."

"Silent Night" by Simon and Garfunkel.

The meter reader tries to claim
the reward. He actually wants
the money for revelation.

A canonization of personal effects.

Some of us knew the bones were right
where the Lord had left them.
We know where all the run-aways are.

St Therese of Lisieux and the little way
patroness of the tubercular.
No one really knows why.

"The victim was found sitting upright in a patent leather chair, traces of cocaine on the desk, and suffering from what police only describe as a Cuban Necktie. "

The Vince Foster palate syndrome
is all over town.

Man was created

anyway.

To gawk and gasp
over her bones
and articles, the things
in her lungs and stomach:
applesauce and onions.

How could she!
How could he!

Try to bury
the napthas of her soul
like that.

Man was only created

anyway.













I have to make a note here on something fantastic I saw yesterday on the tellie. The White House press secretary showed up with a black eye (you mean to tell me Revlon can't hide that?)...obviously she must have ended up in a tussle after Bush almost took a hit with a loafer. And while I'm on the topic of press secretaries I must comment that since Ari Fleischer left the post, there hasn't actually been one. This one yesterday had the audacity to say, "We don't throw shoes at anyone." Like..."over here" in the civilized world where we just use unmanned drones to break up muslim weddings.



My God.











17.12.08

Songs for Simpletons
-anonymous

Oh whither went the blame
some folks tell the story
it all sounds the same
no good ad libs or glory.
I'm so tired of simple men
who wake up every day
once and yet again
with another bitch to spay.
This one's a tired old geezer
that one has not a fang
still another is a fleecer
and the last one, she's a whole damn gang.
Miserable and grinning
never really winning.

Heh...found that one on the internet. I thought it charming and a little bit disarming.
Poetry, April 2008 through July 2008


The Etiology of Mr. X


as if it was blown into the halo of park lightsbetween strike three and batter up - Darla Whitehead, Pack of Lies

Yesterday about noon, this fellow
finds us out in the sun and says
he wants his test done now.
We of ambigious natures, nurses
working towards Armageddons
big and small, tow each other
like bricks into rooms
full of camphor and prevention.
It all starts there in the clinics,
under chairs where little girls
run to scream and hide. Big boys
grow pale and old men come to us
before they die to talk
about their daughters, to talk
about their sons. It has been
a long time of such things,
keeping the secrets of nature alive
in our pockets and cupboards,
writing down our sincerities
in diaries on demand. Up front
there are drawers full of history,
treacherous rumours named Murphy and Cline.
His hat suits him well I think
as he chatters on about his deeds.
What does this to us all?
What cause is there to explain?
I've lived and loved and laughed
this much and cried about the same.


I Land in the Lilacs

My irises aren't really
mine afterall but all the same
they are touched carefully,
split and soaked, ever-lasting
dutiful to the ages
and then some.
Rhizomes gently laid into
their earthy sockets
produce secret after secret
from who knows where,
who knows where.

A Long Way To Pocatello Tonight

Have you ever seen
such a clean crowd of people
sitting in their folding chairs
listening
chortling
have you ever seen
such a thing?

I have.

They're just everywhere,
they want stripper poets
killer poets and poets
who kill themselves
for a living
as ornery as that
must sound

to the untrained ear

that doesn't know
too much about
poetry but alot
about sitting in an audience.

It's a long way to Pocatello tonight
isn't it? I know it's a long way
but do tell me, how far?

Once, we met Rothenberg
and he knew about that distance
to Pocatello. Just discovered it

and signed it for us in his own hand.

I might just tell him tonight
how far Pocatello is
when there is no audience
and life is just a watch and a wait.

Hope at Crowhaven Farm

If only at eight
I hadn't seen
Crowhaven Farm,
deliberated on it
during the long nights
when the rats
scurried around
in the ceilings,
if only at eight
I hadn't seen
the way they put
bricks upon Meg's chest,
called her a witch
and they were
all dressed up
for Thanksgiving,
if only I hadn't seen
Crowhaven Farm
in 1970,
my life would have been
not as it is
but as it was.

Everything's Connected

Trust when he says he was
in a coma for five months,
no one lies after a coma.
If they sleep, they sleep
only a little and insomnia
doesn't seem to bother them.
We all walked outside
together like that,
into the back alley
a perfect back alley
in a slow motion town
on the border
where I sat and considered
Framingham, Massachussetts.
A whole town measured out
grace in urine cups
and xrays. One by one
they told the truth about it
and Chagas is what you call
an emerging disease.
It gets up into your heart
after years of living on the edge.
I've seen those things on leaves
yet still, I never kill
a single one of them
or scorpions but I do
run away like a kid
fighting wasps. Once
I showed a furry
little beast to a poverty
stricken woman
and she crushed it.
It was a tarantula,
we're all just flesh and bone.
She was the first
to notice the invasion,
and ran up the hill
crying fee fi fo fum.
That was before the war
and power surges
took everything
we thought we owned.
It's one of the best things
that ever happened
but now, I don't take
any chances and put
nets over my bean stalks

so the birds don't take them,
carefully, Icount them every day.


The Colonialist With A Thousand Faces

- Allah bears witness that there is no god but He, 3:18

Up on highway eighty
you can see what fire does
and what it does not.
I have to wonder about the two
British ladies in Tombstone
who wanted to go to the
Chicawow-wows, to Apache lands.
One of them
just now wearing
her new wide-brimmed hat,
one of them hoping
for the Organ Pipe National Forest.
She tells me Britain
has history and you've got Geology.
Like I don't know
what we call in these parts:

diddly squat.
Oh! such mighty deportations!
La ila'ha il'la Huwa,
mammoths in caliche,
this is my beloved slag.

See that here? The color of the map
in Yuma is gray. There is a reason
for that. Go up the San Simon way,
take the Gleeson road
but first stop by and see
what the fire does not do
over time
to the miners and the mining.
Trust me, skip Las Vegas.
We're all just tourists,
those are all my fathers
and as I shimmy into town
through the Mule Pass
it is all very new to me.
Once again, the long way.

The Game Over Plan

Which sky does the wind
whip through now,
which city is torn apart
and blended; which one
isn't? Fighters defend
one after another
with flags and buckshot,
where to hit
the wind? Where can
so much water go
if the wind makes peace
and leaves the load
without a treaty, sans
policy in a stalemate
of disillusionment?
These blossoms cannot lie:
when the bee quits,
she quits. When the river
stops, she stops.
When death comes, we agree.

The Trembling of Ropes Inside of Wells

This selfish little spot called
our prayers and ablutions
is filled with noises in the morn
and the darkness within the night.
The spider and the gnat
are signs to those who know,
the bee and the ant
are signs to those who know,
the sun and the moon
are signs to those who know.
But who are they?

This Particular Sea

There are so many lights
in the windows, the stars,
so many openings and silence
reveals the movement of night
creatures in the dust
through the leaves
what are they and where?
There are so many secrets
in these places of mine
so many left over pieces
to talk about
and I do.
The dog doesn't really care
but he stays until I am done.
He stays a bit longer
to examine something
in the night, some noise.
A rustle in the bushes -
a traitor it seems
is on the loose again.
This particular sea
is mighty, it is deep.
There is so much drowning there,
so many broken things,

left-open eyes.

San Juan, the Conspicuous

When someone says Life!
I cringe and creep behind
the curtains once more.
What do they know afterall?

Each of these eyes
is a blind circuit,
each cherished rose
blends into it again.
Where did the wind
come from this time?
If only this one didn't
try to go missing,
if only this one
didn't pretend to be dead.

All About My Pious

If you could see what has been seen by those of you who have died, you would be puzzled and troubled. Then you would have listened and obeyed; but what they have seen is yet curtained off from you. Shortly, the curtain would be thrown off. You have been shown, provided you see and you have been made to listen provided you listen, and you have been guided if you accept guidance. I spoke unto you with truth. You have been called aloud by examples and warned through items full of warnings. After the heavenly messengers , only man can convey message from Allah. - Emir Ali ibn Abi Taleb, Commander of the Faithful, Lion of Allah, May Allah be pleased with his Ahl Bayt.

If a prayer could bring
you back to me, it
would be that one
you know, yes.
The empty cups for tea,
at least some sugar
for the flies,
the ones familiar
with it all.
Let's go back
in the shade,
to the peasants
who turn pots of wheat,
try something on.
What kind of novelty
is this ornery tale?

Blessed be the wars.

Your Amo Sol would mix
tree sap to catch
a thousand birds, Jafar
would break his arm

for you, as would
several believing men.

Amti Lena would sell
all of her dishes
and your grandmother
if she knew
would tear her heart
out, split and lay it
inside your high-heeled shoes.
How To Haiku

there are the chances
of writing twice,
the same thing
from two different
places and there are
the chances of reading
one thing twice
the same way

the chances are about
the same really

idea makers and breakers
not all that easy
to come by

the better mind
the better heart

what foul intentions
and braveries
are hidden
between the disasters
great artifacts of time
those that turn and toss in the ruins

many things are there
if you look for them
long enough
this one reads
heads and spear,
that one reads
ten thousands
and the Sabine or flags

the best are pearls
kept safely aside
for the divers,
those whose very air
is in the return

from where
I do not know
nor how to get there

it is a one way canal
with very tiny sockets

just look down
why don't you
tell us what the soil
relates as it fills
all the dead spaces
tell us how many grasses
have returned
with the same old story.

man walked on the moon
big detail in small pond

15.12.08

Poems of 2008, January through March

Beware of This

The first thing to go
is usually the teeth
in the town and then
the roads. Notice
when the animals
start coming in closer
to look and feed
because the lights
are suddenly
a bit dimmer.
Sound diminishes
but the voices within
are clear enough
as they mumble
through their mangled
gums and dentures.
Is it that time again?
says the rock.
The trees only say:
that is how it once was
before the fences.

She's In
The Book of Nogales


I'm all eyes you see
wherever wisdom goes
the parade follows
but in the wrong direction -
this ratio of angels
drives us mad.
A plain old drama
drowns the bedlam
with its fury, this
snake swallows it whole:
(Remember this?
Of course not.)
Nothing escapes
a point of view
at a checkpoint
where we wait
for indictments and polls,
that sacred ammunition
and those officious absolutions.
From the windows
cameras spot vendors
as they ply the ancient art
of bait and switch,
the carrot on a stick.
I'm sure of it.
Our trunk is only full
of statues and banks
but they don't believe it,
those types insist
on certificates and honey.
Those types don't know
much about bones
and even less about the sea.

In the shadows
hueras exchange
dirty looks for pesos,
treasure after
treasure, Catrinas
for thin-thin dimes.
It's a long way home
for that one -
her clothes tell
the thousand tales
of babies and begging,
the stories that never end
and we've heard them all before.
She's a whole
cartel in her papoos
and just another exodus
on the sole of her huarache
spelled novena, nueva, nuestros.

The Wondrous Magico

Most things never really happen
to us and those that do
are truly nostalgic.
The tired old promise evaporates
once the war is fought
and supposedly won, as planned.
The corpse wrecks the best-laid plans:

like clockwork and clairvoyance.

The dreadful poses staged
on the triage of life
and death innuendo
are a pleasant compromise
for the real thing
as it fiddles and burns,
cuts everything in half
and disappears the rabbit
from the land of the living.
Those that shake the snakes
from bags and wave their
crooked old sticks
past all our pleased
and dumbstruck faces
say like this:

and and and and and
Voila! Lo! Behold!

Sawridge Hotel, Fort McMurray

When I think of Beirut
I think of hair,
of weddings and war.
A never-ending cycle
of hair, weddings and war.
On our way out
we spoke to a man
on his fourth or fifth
flight from an Israeli

incursion.

I think of hair, weddings and war.

Euphemism

Some things cannot go twice
and others just cannot go
as I tip toe through the shadows
past your closed circuits
and into the backyard that is lit
like an ember to the sky
where these eyes are gemstones,
to write captions.
It's not about making waves
yet the birds are taut,
treacherous and on the line -
no one put them there.
The satellites cannot preach
to the stars as they drift
into the sea,
in silico, as they say.

Al-Moqawama
(The Resistance)


We have to embrace the idea that we are the leaders we are looking for. - Grace Lee Boggs

By Allah, if I see that on one side is the truth and on the other side all the rest of the people I, without caring and paying heed to those reproaching me, will fight all alone with my sword, on the way and path of the right, against them. - Emir Ali ibn Abi Taleb, pbuh.


War is not the time
for poetry -
that is for the evenings
of old men in other lands
who ring the bells
to commute their sentence,
those who barter time
with the ancients in senate.

Dare I say that?

But I am a fighter
at heart and know
a warning has to find
the warned, has to abandon
the bles-sed for a while.
A warner has to call
the laggers to the front
one by one in order
to cut them down
or lift them up.

We prayed on those nights
for ourselves. We prayed
for the ones who crawled
through the fields
on their bellies.
We watched the skies
and hoped the bombs
might be jubilations.

They weren't.

The tarmac and the dairy,
every single bridge gone.
The long drive through
abandoned streets
and the stockpile
of rice in the big
drama of flight.
The bitterness of translation
is the joy of understanding,
and vice versa.
There will be more of this.

The Honey Moon

Beirut:

Tell me this
is the last adventure
and I'll go home, stop
bothering God for information
about you. I'll stop spying
through your candles and dirty
mists. I married not a man
but the whole country, wedded
rivers while marching
across stones, my innocence
lost on a flight from which
I stepped into a sea
of armies and posters.
My teeth got ground into paste,
a dowry wasted on one hiding
place after another looking
for the auction of the future
where the last bidder is death.
I gave birth to mementos and distress
near bodies of chalk
sucked naked by gravity.
Our children tugged
baggage and dread
through the streets
as the news catered
our bitterest meals.
We never leave and never arrive,
airport to airport with a cold bravado
saying the strangest things.

From Allah's Book of Reflections

As the bee tends
the tendrils of time
on the outskirts
of her metaphysical chores,
she is weightless, harmless, free.
Her chapels are flowers
in space and so small.
Daisy, peony, carnation:
you paper-puzzles, you grand masters
how about me? Is this a Valentine?

Hey pollen pushers, egg minders
in the society of specialists,
who gave you your orders
to sting and mend?
All this subatomic origami, all these stars.

My Valentine

In the encyclopedia of the ancients
we waited to be born. It was said
that we were yet in the loins
of our forefathers. It was a very
very long time ago by current estimates.
We woke to find our coins
-the same old ones
were not as useful and told
not to say anything about
our condition, we abided by that
doctrine of secrecy before we
knew what our secret even was.
Now is the time to come
to this drama, now is the time
to see our plight. Now is the time
to wonder if any of it
really matters or if it is even true.
We were told to take two deaths.
We were told about the others
who slept for one hundred years.
It is only mentioned to disquiet,
it is only mentioned in order to warn
those in whom a heart still resides, a heart.
Those in whose chest still beats an anthem.

On Account Of It

These pieces should fly
instead of bark or for instance,
the future ought to open
into the right scenes
as being dispatched properly,
following a certain evolution.
The lady at the bank says
it is time to apply, to complete
forms for exile, igne combusta.
The embassies call each other
at home and say:

keep a low profile, avoid being
whoever you are.

The locals drift to sleep
with the knowledge of long
summers in dreadful times,
even longer winters and nights
occupied in the worst of all dreams.
Fruits arrive on trees withered,
pickled in dust and weary tastes.
Rumour has it that garbage
is the first luxury of mankind
but few people know
until it is too late
and the rest are used to it.
You have to wonder
about the eyes sometimes,
scour the old photographs
to find something there-
some little particle- reunions.
While counting blessings:
estimate the shipping weight,
resale value, insurance rates.
He apologizes by saying:
you are still a gypsy,
when will you get home?
These credentials in suitcases
labeled: hope, caution, trouble
are more than enough collateral.
There are still places
on the planet where we might
find a vacancy or try to wish for.

Z Flies

Part of the reason is the desire
to keep pace with the frantic show
of tomorrow, yesterday in the bin
swept toward the infinity of amnesias.
Everything is a deliberate parable,
the fly who drifts away
with his delicious meals, unretrievable -
that wiley thief -
to the great dreams we cannot recall.
Limbo! Oh paradise of purgatories
is the hell of the ancients, this sphere
a masterpiece of vain and partial speeches.
The people come and go, unaware, save a few.
They wipe their brows, carry bricks and lipsticks,
dance their jigs. Everyone is so familiar here
with marks on their foreheads to the tightening
of their ears. Smiles, sighs, puffings.

The sea is only a tremendous bucket swarming
with a few fish where currents are
mysterious maps under the most popular of orbits,
she keeps her gemstones there, near the edges
yet the divers want so much more,
want to see the habitats of the blind.

Limbo on this contiguous shore,
a great divide between salt and drink,
that mountain under this dome described
and traveled, such slight migrations to and fro.
The weakest birds who fall in April
are found in those sad positions
without ceremony or feather.
They do die trying don't they?
Smile. They die trying.

About Real Estate

There is a fear going on
out there in the calla lillies.
Everyone knows about it
yet no one seems to mind.
It's an empty oh no
even though it was
an ordinary old thing.
There was a house
of big and empty
that I wanted
all of a sudden
or maybe it wanted me.
I don't know why
because there isn't much
I want anymore
and a house opened
and empty is never greedy.
But I wanted that
and that
scared me too.
But still the question
remained, why?
Why want that?
Because it is big or
because it is empty?
Or maybe because it was sudden
and it never seemed to be there
before. I know it was never
there before. I'm sure of it.
So it is this slow panic
of normal intensity, a generalized
fear about everything
and everyone knows about it.
It's an empty oh no
and they talk about these parts
all the time. Just a little
every day and without the index.
Hopeless. Well fed. Insatiable.

The Bookmark

These houses are either
empty or sad, constantly
changing hands -
in the dusty keep
of the ages, the dark tunnels
of heat and mouse steps
voices come and go
to those places and back
where funerals are less eager
to offer rides and pastries
a body transparent
a body not her own
a body of work
a body
with a finger trapped
in a book to mark the place
a body sewn to the finger
trapped in the book
a gold crown waiting
in a nearby town.

The rain is patient this year
April is patient,
the lilacs that live
two hundred years
the scrub oak
the generations of poppies
on the hill scattered,
are all patient.

Why is it that people cry
over corpses and why is it
they do not cry about death?
You've seen one die
you've seen them all.
No one goes there to visit the dead.
No one goes there to cry
or whisper or clasp.
They go there to wonder
about themselves
with mouse steps, riding
side saddle in the aisles
careful not to bunch up
or bump into one another.
Their faces tell lies and more lies.
No one thinks they'll get caught.

Epocholypse

Had I been able
at the time
to record the sound
of blankets, it would have
been the fossil
of tears embedded,
blood stains in ash,
tremendous piles of ruin
in the equality of the eons
and similarities of time.
Not abandoned as a child
nor treated unnaturally
according to the era
in which these blessings
are accorded:

say: pews, votives, statuaries
milk money, for these thy gifts,
pretty rocks and mirrors
of all kinds,

I am hopeful still.
Whole civilizations
rise and fall because of this
thready pulse within them.



First, it isn't the rain that matters most of all anymore. This little hideout here and the hide and seek, the finding of pecans after the tree has been thoroughly shook. I leave the opened ones for the ants and keep promising to leave a few for the squirrels. They are like tiny brown Easter eggs..the best ones found under the juniper fronds and close to the ground. Sometimes I count to ten and if I don't find one within ten seconds, it's time to go in. Last year's unopened ones are black and fossil. Very hard and perhaps these are the trees of the future so I leave them all alone.

It's alot like poetry i.e. pecan work.

I didn't even know I had a pecan tree and I think of that one up on Laundry Hill, want to go find it. They produce fruit for three hundred years if left alone and perhaps more when cared for. The pecan tree is actually a hickory. I have a whole set of antique deer antler knives but no old hickories, the kind that were treated with such neglect in the drawer by the stove.

I made pecan mamoul last night. They were brilliant. Frek as well with two cups of whole, old fashioned oats. Such appreciation for food around here. Perhaps I will share some of that this time around.


Frek (Ramadan Soup)

Broth from chicken or beef, 4 cups or more
chicken or beef, diced, shredded or whatever size one likes
1 1/2 to 2 cups of whole oats
olive oil
onion, carrot, bell pepper diced small
3 tbsp tomato paste
two bouillion cubes
pinch of cloves
two teaspoons of harisa(Morroccan pepper) paste

Saute vegetables in oil for a few minutes. Add broth, spices, pastes, bouillion cubes and simmer for a while, almost an hour or so. Add oats and meat and simmer for ten minutes more, stirring so the oats don't burn. Salt to taste and add hot pepper if that's your thing.

Serve with salad, tabouleh is best but even a Waldorf will do.

14.12.08

Working Notes: Christmas Party

"a" this pecan tree
that wind three hundred years
ice storm java script
"won't be long" perilous journey
this book "already finished"
just walking the forest
through it one more time
all the chapters
rereading it for "the first time"
hemlines and drawings
"nature" ants starving below the surface
indonesia indonesia indonesia indonesia
"company Christmas party" tatoos
"beef" or "chicken" dismal strangers
"five kids" she is taking him in
"do they have that" in Indonesia?
"indonesia"
"over there?" Dreiser's Chicago
"new apartments" New apartments
"like ants" starving
skin ashtrays skin lampshades
"brown on brown on brown"
"hard to find" she is a Mexican Jew
"can't get rid of the accent she says"
"her Holocaust Chilean grandparents"
"Pinochet?" Pinochet? "did you hear that silence"
I look into her eyes, those little round eyes
she was told very little "the act"
and I know she is taking him, he's simple
born again hovering hovering
the tribulations "do they have that"
over there?
and the next morning, "I pick the pecans"
off of the ground, brushing aside the leaf
clutter and she comes to me
in an excerpt not knowing
who the hell Pinochet was or is
and I said, Pinochet to her again
as if to wake her up from the mulch.
Pinochet, you are caught. Pinochet
lives in the leaf clutter and dining
room chatter. I cringe at his old
born again blue eyes and the way he cupped
her darling shoulders hunched from
the years she has spent telling
old men like him
what they want to hear and he said,
"take care of her will you?"
He went out for his smoke
while she chewed and her
cud full mouth oblivious
just kept chewing
and on her hands were rings
so many new rings
little trophies "as it were"
yet I kept walking, silent
just walking through this
book that's already over
been over for a thousand years.

11.12.08

The X on Treasure Island

Another four o'clock arrives
and still, no translation.
They're giving a class
in the old PD building
where I remember
that first Barbie. She
was attached at the time
like all women,
to some type of soap.
It started with the Gold Rush
and ends with this building,
the PD Merc which is now
a day orphanage for kids
and nightclasses there
in Conversational Spanish.
I want to learn to say
Barbie in past perfect
so that I can tell my classmates
where I found that old
nappy girl with slanty eyes,
how my mother looked
when standing in front
of the butcher. I'll translate
the smell of sawdust mixed with blood
into Castillian, long passages
which will admit the transfiguration
of copper into bread.

10.12.08

Bedouin with Camel's Milk, Digital Image by M. Porter Swaid

The Big Apple by M. Porter Swaid



The Golden Calf


"Abstraction today is no longer that of the map, the double, the mirror or the concept. Simulation is no longer that of a territory, a referential being or a substance. It is the generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal. The territory no longer precedes the map, nor survives it. Henceforth, it is the map that precedes the territory - precession of simulacra - it is the map that engenders the territory and if we were to revive the fable today, it would be the territory whose shreds are slowly rotting across the map. It is the real, and not the map, whose vestiges subsist here and there, in the deserts which are no longer those of the Empire, but our own. The desert of the real itself." -Baudrillard


An established factoid by now is the idea that the Calf represents idolatry. It is as widely known as any of the parables in the Diaries of the Ancients (called the Gospels and Torah). It may in fact be second only to the Apple in the Garden of Eden in terms of the Teaching Tools of Allah.



Lot's Wife is another that populates the modern imagination with things that lead to more things and still more things.




Lot's Wife, Digital Image by M. Porter Swaid

Right up there with images from the er...Greeks is it? like the Three Graces


Rainbow Cafe, Naco-Son by M. Porter Swaid
...to be continued....



Suggested reading: Jean Baudrillard: Simulacra and Simulations




9.12.08

The Fire Sermon in Glen Campbell

La ilaha ilallah, he created
the shadows to prostrate
and then the sun as a proof.
-The Distinction

Today it is Spicer,
today it is him, and the big idea.
Yesterday it was El Bishop.
It doesn't really matter
willingly or unwillingly
they will remember,
they will come to resurrections
once and again and pleading.

O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter
And on her daughter
They wash their feet in soda water


Doesn't matter because
Firon was just a guy
full of asphalt and camphor,
insurgency is all there is
right now, all of the cold
wind trying to find it,
heading for the doors
and banging on the window.
Where are you?
says the wind
through the trees
who have caught on now
and take off their clothes
like chapmen
before the fire saying:

"you are too old
to do that again"
or, "you'll be sorry"


The trees know about
the shivers, they've read
all of the blankets
before the rain,
cover to cover,
even the shroud of Turin.

"These tempestes of the ayer
(which the Grecians caule Tiphones ...)
they caule furacanes."

Up in the pecan,
an ugly bird utters
the most beautiful small sound,
maybe he's talking about
the sea, about the parting.
I think he sings
the Song of Solomon,
Perhaps he can recall.
Hard to believe a throat
could make that noise,
eye to eye, up there,
not moving or alone, we are in
his tree now
until darkness tries
it's luck again. Time to go
home, time to flee
and take it all
into nests for the night
seasons where wind
splinters and talk
has little value
because the gale
gusts and swallows
anyway and the sleepers
constantly turn and still
listen to the fingertips
of the trees
as they tuck and snap
time into sound.
Outside the dog is growling
at the pig who comes his way
while on guard for the master.
At the fence they see each other,
they just don't budge
or press together, no
volume and infinite density.
All teeth and legs and odors
for one exceptional moment,
each abdicates their position,
runs away and eventually,
falls asleep either full or empty.
Truth be told,
the land is consumed
not by men or children,
all children of Sky Gods
by now, all kids
with hope and buckets

and all that time to do it

Little stones appear
and disappear,
the heaps of rock
tell atoms to history,
brave old legends about
sorrows and steam,
the story where space
and iron are heaven's
midden and leaven.
Galveston oh Galveston!

However the ocean takes
more than seems fair,
her own share -
nothing wrong with that,
but the skirts
of her dresses,
blue ones, green ones,
oily black ones made of taftah
bounce and like that,
swish and blow
the currents of her
arrival before the door
is open, long after it is closed.
































8.12.08

Lesson Two:
Why Revelation Matters
(Appointments, Annointments and general religious Disappointments)

Go here for lesson one in the difference between Revelation and Prophecy:
http://carmenisacat.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-exactly-is-revelation-in-todays.html

The Revelation: The Last Supper versus The Last Sura called, ironically (or maybe not!) "The Dinner Table":



[5.67] O Apostle! deliver what has been revealed to you from your Lord; and if you do it not, then you have not delivered His message, and Allah will protect you from the people; surely Allah will not guide the unbelieving people. -Sura Al Maida

[5.111] And when I revealed to the disciples, saying, Believe in Me and My apostle, they said: We believe and bear witness that we submit (ourselves).[5.112] When the disciples said: O Isa son of Marium! will your Lord consent to send down to us food from heaven? He said: Be careful of (your duty to) Allah if you are believers.[5.113] They said: We desire that we should eat of it and that our hearts should be at rest, and that we may know that you have indeed spoken the truth to us and that we may be of the witnesses to it.[5.114] Isa the son of Marium said: O Allah, our Lord! send i down to us food from heaven which should be to us an ever-recurring happiness, to the first of us and to the last of us, and a sign from Thee, and grant us means of subsistence, and Thou art the best of the Providers.[5.115] Allah said: Surely I will send it down to you, but whoever shall disbelieve afterwards from among you, surely I will chastise him with a chastisement with which I will not chastise, anyone among the nations.[5.116] And when Allah will say: O Isa son of Marium! did you say to men, Take me and my mother for two gods besides Allah he will say: Glory be to Thee, it did not befit me that I should say what I had no right to (say); if I had said it, Thou wouldst indeed have known it; Thou knowest what is in my mind, and I do not know what is in Thy mind, surely Thou art the great Knower of the unseen things.[5.117] 1 did not say to them aught save what Thou didst enjoin me with: That serve Allah, my Lord and your Lord, and I was a witness of them so long as I was among them, but when Thou didst cause me to die, Thou wert the watcher over them, and Thou art witness of all things. -Sura Al Maida i.e. The Dinner Table


So...the last act of Mohamed, SA was to reveal ? He had already revealed the Quran as we know that the Dinner Table was the last Sura and he was soon to die. Of course, it is the very famous speech at Ghadr Khum that matters in this:

http://www.islamicresearch.org/ghadir_khum.htm

What was the completion of Islam (the last act) and what was the outcome of mythologizing the Last Supper of Isa, SA? Yes, the last act of Mohamed, SA was to appoint a "deputy" who would after his death (Mohamed's) act as Legislator Superior. It was at Ghadr Khum that the directive to follow Ali ibn Abi Taleb (pbuh) was made:

"Then the Messenger of Allah continued: "Do I not have more right overthe believers than what they have over themselves?" People cried andanswered: "Yes, O' Messenger of God." Then Prophet (PBUH) held up thehand of Ali and said: "Whoever I am his leader (Mawla), Ali is hisleader (Mawla). O' God, love those who love him, and be hostile tothose who are hostile to him." "

Obviously...the two things are connected.Was Judas Iscariot nominated to take the place of Isa on the cross? I don't know but it certainly does sound interesting especially when you look into the nature of the "hadiths" known as The Gospels of Judas:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gospel_of_Judas

"According to the Gospel, Judas was the only one of Jesus’ followers to fully understand the Gnostic teachings":

"Knowing that Judas was reflecting upon something that was exalted, Jesus said to him: Step away from the others and I shall tell you the mysteries of the Kingdom. It is possible for you to reach it, but you will grieve a great deal. For someone else will replace you, in order that the twelve disciples may again come to completion with their God."

"Like the canonical gospels, the Gospel of Judas portrays the scribes as approaching Judas with the intention of arresting him, and Judas receiving money from them after handing Jesus over to them. But unlike Judas in the canonical gospels, who is portrayed as a villain, and excoriated by Jesus ("Alas for that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It would be better for that man if he had never been born," Mark 14:21; Matthew 26:24, trans. The New English Bible), the Judas gospel portrays Judas as a divinely appointed instrument of a grand and predetermined purpose. "In the last days they will curse your ascent to the holy (generation)."


"Elsewhere in the manuscript, Jesus favours Judas above other disciples by saying, "Step away from the others and I shall tell you the mysteries of the kingdom," and "Look, you have been told everything. Lift up your eyes and look at the cloud and the light within it and the stars surrounding it. The star that leads the way is your star."In the New Testament, Judas is said to have died by hanging himself (Matthew 27:3-10), or by bursting open after a fall (Acts 1:16-19). The Gospel of Judas does not specify the fate of Judas, although in the gospel, Judas tells Jesus he has had a vision where he is stoned to death by the eleven remaining apostles."

[4.157] And their saying: Surely we have killed the Messiah, Isa son of Marium, the apostle of Allah; and they did not kill him nor did they crucify him, but it appeared to them so (like Isa) and most surely those who differ therein are only in a doubt about it; they have no knowledge respecting it, but only follow a conjecture, and they killed him not for sure. -Sura, The Women

[61.14] O you who believe! be helpers (in the cause) of Allah, as~ Isa son of Marium said to (his) disciples: Who are my helpers in the cause of Allah? The disciples said: We are helpers (in the cause) of Allah. So a party of the children of Israel believed and another party disbelieved; then We aided those who believed against their enemy, and they became uppermost. -Sura, The Ranks


The Tafsir of it all (exegesis):

The similarities are astounding. It is important to know that in the Quran, comparisons are always made between prophets so that a person can understand the relevance of any given revelation of a previously undisclosed fact. Isa is compared to Adam because both prophets were introduced without the use of male sperm i.e. male DNA. Moses is compared to Mohamed because both prophets actually brought a "new" law and both had helpers i.e. "brothers". Moses had Aaron and Mohamed had Ali. Furthermore, this indicates that Isa also had a helper who was named Judas (as far as we know because his name is not given in the Quran and this is only my opinion here). As far as those helpers being blamed for the failure of future generations to comply with the law of Allah, all three men can be compared as having been horribly misunderstood as to their role. Aaron was blamed for the Golden Calf incident (per the Bible but not per the Quran where the incident is justly blamed on a man known only as "Samiri"), Judas is castigated in the Bible and by most generations of people as being a traitor to Allah and the same can be said of Ali when it comes to some fundamentalist Sunni muslims when they accuse the Shia of being "heretical".

5.12.08

A Mysterious Case

They lay on conveyor belts,
old men without homes
for a few moments or hours,
their dusty suits
torn, split zippers and keychains.
Inside they are the same
kind of used-up dandy
depending on whether
they were on their way out
or home from the affair.
All kinds of people gather
to take one more glance
at them before heading off
in other directions.
Foreign notes tucked
into the deep pockets
hide for years on end
and never tell anyone
who they are or about the hours
spent away from home
comparing New Orleans
to Memphis and Memphis
to New Orleans using
schedules full of pleasure
and profit, blessed pastimes
in locales unknown
except to those
who go there
for misadventure, those
who read upside down.
How to unpack this baggage,
how to go on home.
The spider, they say,
eats his house
and rebuilds it
the very next day,
weaving the spew
into several sticky traps.

4.12.08

What exactly is a Revelation?

Alif Lam Ra. These are the verses of the Book that makes (things) manifest. Surely We have revealed it-- an Arabic Quran-- that you may understand...

A speaker from among them said: Do not slay Yusuf, and cast him down into the bottom of the pit if you must do (it), (so that) some of the travellers may pick him up. - Sura 12, Yusef*

In today's world, the Book of Revelations occupies a position of gospel truth. And yes, it is the gospel truth by gum!

The Gospel Truth is one of my favorite ad libs. It is applicable in the secular world as well as the sacred. "She said he's leaving his wife! It is the gospel truth!"

A gospel is actually something well known and called in Islam, a Hadith. Hadiths are comments related by eye witnesses of certain important historical events that occurred during the lifetime of the last prophet and messenger, Mohamed, SA. They are NOT the actual statements of the prophet but rather, they are what several "reporters" remember him having said. Those are studied to the nth degree and compared. The "isnad" refers to the legitimacy of the reporters when taken together as a "whole".

Therefore, you can consider the Gospels in the New Testament as a set of hadith with basically the same "isnad" or chain of authority. Many chains of authority are not addressed in all Bibles and are considered Gnostic texts. Some Bibles include one chain of reporters and completely neglect another chain. This is the case of what we hold so dear in this "Western" society when we refer to the New Testament and in particular, the gospel according to John which is partly comprised of the Book of Revelations. In contrast, the Quran is in the "words" of the prophet himself or rather, as relayed to him by a messenger known as Gibreel, the angel or in Arabic, "malaik". The hadith and the Quran are to each other as the New Testament is to ?....a heretofore unknown quantity known as the Injeel, an actual book that was transcribed by the apostle Jesus (Isa) himself, May Allah be pleased with all of his servants and apostles. It may have only been an oral tradition like the Quran originally was and like the Zabur originally was (Psalms). We don't have that book (the Injeel) in our possession. We do have the Quran which is the only place in which the Injeel is actually mentioned. Whatever the case...it isn't here. The Quran is and is resistant to change. As well, Islam itself is the most and best "documented" life of a prophet that we have. And we(muslims) have a fantastic amount of information at that.

What about the Gospels?

According to the Princeton based non-theologian (per her admission to me in a letter) expert Elaine Pagels, the testament of John is what was used to coerce early Christians to observe and abide by the concept of the Trinity and more importantly, the God-hood of Jesus Christ (Isa, SA). It was a case of confess allegiance to the Creed of John or off with your head, exile, excommunication, etc.

It is very much like the case of Sunni and Shia Islam in which Shia are considered heretics because they hold that the Divine Right resides in what is known as the Ahl Bayt (close family members of Mohamed himself, SA).

Back to the question though because I believe it to be a very important one.

What is a Revelation? Why is revelation important? What ISN'T revelation?

Revelation isn't a liar. It is a true word that can be relied upon to decifer what it actually is. It isn't even mystical and requires no experience in linguistics or etymology to understand. Revelation means to reveal something. Something that wasn't known before and the only way a person can know about it it to have it revealed to them in some manner. Scientific progress is based on Revelation you know.

Take Chlamydia for instance. When I was a teenager, we were taught all about VD. You had Syphilis and Gonorrhea. That was it. It was called VD. Later on however, we discovered some other little demons that wreak havoc on human beings. Chlamydia now is what is called an endemic disease. Everyone's got it! Or rather, one in four young women have it. We didn't know about Chlamydia or its harmful sequalae until I was just a nursing school student. I remember back then the little kits that were developed to detect Chlamydia and how uncommon it was to have to perform a Chlamydia screen on a suspect case. Therefore, knowledge about Chlamydia was REVEALED and has proven to be a very important little thing. The little bugger was there all along and causing alot of women to get cervical cancer. We just didn't "know" about it until twenty five or so years ago. We came a bit closer in other words, to the speed of light.

The Book of Revelations however isn't a revelation of anything we can identify today as being "useful" to our spiritual progress. That is because of what it ISN'T. What is it then?

It is a Prophecy. A prophecy given by a person or persons who claimed they had access to future information. For whatever reason, that person has a curiously UNSEMITIC name, John.

That in itself proves alot about the mish mash known as the Book of Revelations. It has of course, caused alot of spiritual damage and continues to do so.

Armageddon and all of that. I always have to laugh at my old inside joke you know. What kind of people think about Armageddon and discuss it as if they are going to remain behind to discuss the stats of the game? Dear me.

A real revelation is something that is necessary for human beings to get closer to the pure Truth.
Truth is what it is. It isn't something else you know or otherwise, it wouldn't be "truth". It is a finite point on a spectrum and is limited to "our knowledge" of something. That can work two ways you know.

One, we know about any given number of things that we question. For instance the size of the universe or the amount of mass in comparison to the total quantity of "gravity". This knowledge in itself revealed to scientists that we didn't know what we thought we knew. It resulted in the theory of Black Holes which is intermingled with quantum mechanics and the goal of discovering what is called a Grand Unification Theory. It has led to whole other ballparks of estimation which are being called the Many Worlds theories. When I listen to astrophysicists blab on about the Many Worlds theories and Membranes...I get a bit of the old Galileo You Are An Absolute Idiot Syndrome. But that's just me. Calling a membrane a "brane" is quite misleading when you first "hear" about it on a History Channel docu drama:

http://www.fraterdeus.com/cda/archive/2006/09/04/many-worlds-and-slinky-consciousness

(Slinky. I'll say. Rather courageous if you ask me!)

Two, our knowledge being limited to only those things that we can somehow "sense" (eyes, ears, telescopes)...tells us that Truth in our context is FINITE. Truth is Finite in the sense that the Speed of Light is finite. The fact that we cannot achieve the speed of light in a laboratory setting is the limit. It does not mean that truth itself is finite. Truth itself cannot be known to be either finite or infinite.

Truth exists in a ratio to knowledge. A five year old is much further from the Theory of Relativity than me at forty-six years of age. I am much further from it than a mathematician at Stanford. Allah of course, who created the whole shebang....well. We cannot comprehend that. Just like we cannot comprehend a speed of anything faster than the speed of light.

The amount of knowledge possessed by any given observer of "the world" is limited by several things. Those things are age, chemical-physiological fitness (dependent on heredity, nutrition, etc), socio-economic factors, etc. etc. etc.

It is also limited by Free Will. If a person chooses NOT to know about something, they have in effect limited themselves because...well...because of a lot of reasons. One of those might be social norms that say a person is crazy to try to know something. Another very important one in our highly and so called "intelligent" Age, is the notion that a person "already" knows something and it is beneath them to investigate such simplistic ideas like "religion".

When it comes to Religion however, the human race was given some special insights about a whole lot of things. The Quran is chock full of Revelation. The real kind. Not the kind that is confused in the New Testament with prophecy and is actually hadith i.e. gospel (third person accounts). It is the case that Allah wanted to reveal some data that if it remained hidden, would result in a failure to fully inform his potential followers of key points that would lead to their utter spiritual demise. In medicine, this is akin to Informed Consent (submission).

In the following chapters, I will discuss some of those key points and provide actual excerpts, proofs and rationale.

...to be continued.

*Yusef was one of twelve brothers who was taken as a child and hidden in a well by his eleven brothers. One of his brothers cautioned the others to not kill him as was their initial intent. The Sura Yusef is one of the few examples in the Quran where an entire story is revealed from beginning to end. It begins with a dream that Yusef had when very young and that was related to his father, the prophet Jacob (Yaqoub) who cautioned him to not reveal it to anyone else. Yusef was capable of the 'interpretation of dreams'. It was his special gift and plays a key role in the revelation of a thief, his brothers' crimes against him, the loyal brother and sage old man, the accusation of a rape by the women of the village which included the king's own wife who remained patient and constant towards Yusef until the end of the story even though she secreted information about his imprisonment which was due to the women's need to conceal the fact that they hoped to seduce the wonderfully charismatic dream reader. It is clearly about the nature of Revelation itself.

So he began with their sacks before the sack of his brother, then he brought it out from his brother's sack. Thus did We plan for the sake of Yusuf; it was not (lawful) that he should take his brother under the king's law unless Allah pleased; We raise the degrees of whomsoever We please, and above every one possessed of knowledge is the All-knowing one. - Yusef, Sura 12

Suggested Reading: Language, Truth and Logos and Sura Twelve