A Building at Rest
The museum Thanksgiving Day 2012 –
the museum is populated by a wonderful yet mysterious quiet & peace undisturbed by the frenetic masses. Silences punctuated only by flowing water, the endless hum and shifting of building machinery.
Even normal noises can be unsettling. Especially those associated with people. The building has become a living breathing organism Uttering creaks moans sighs groans from nearly 150 years of footfalls, voices, radios, songs, cantatas, the chiming of clocks, exclamations of awe & wonder. Whispers from an Archaic Victorian century long past to digital diversity.
Oh what secrets lie transfixed within these silent walls yearning for release. The Hunger has been unleashed upon the populace.
The immortality of brick, mortar & steel record the march of ethnicities & nations who roam free these hallowed halls.
Sometimes the sudden interruption of footfalls becomes ominous, invading the sanctity of the Holy Sanctuary. Even the sound of my own steps is somewhat menacing. What spirits accompany me on perambulations among the saints and sinners?
The feeble burbling of the fountain stream’s half-hearted attempts to empty its essence, struggling to pollinate magnificent coins.
The day is at end, the light has faded. Now the night crew enters to continue the evening melody.
Reflections Goth Holiday 2013
Cadaver Mind A.D.D.
Heaving sighs and moans. Creaks, chrupping of brick, mortar, steel and glass pane windows. Blood oozes and drips from open wounds in Laymen’s red brick walls. Elevator doors open and a thousand wailing, howling, grieving souls swoop through the air and into the Medieval Court crying for revenge. Flight of the Valkyries. The Martyrs avenge their unjust and untimely deaths. Swirling and whirling like profane dervishes from netherworld’s portal of the undead.
Hail Mary Echoes from thousands of Knights, monks, Nuns, bishops, and church saints racing through Byzantium corridors. Spirits of Reliquaries issue forth warnings and admonishments to modern day savages. Reliquary Fingers of Blessing Inflict Pain Yanking Opening Death’s Door breaking off bits and pieces of flesh, bone, teeth and hair for deposit into ossuary banks.
Slats opening and closing mindfully as though giving some secret Morse Code. Dioramas of Death act out murderous suicidal dramas. Eagle slays Dragon plucking out blinded eyes from empty orbs.
Medieval castle built long ago by invaders long forgotten. A grand foyer flanked by two long hallways of Byzantine art leading into Medieval Sculpture Hall filled with statues of Madonnas, Saints, Mystics, Relics, and tombs from Egypt, Europe, Greece, Cyprus and South America. Kali goddess of the sarcophagus raises her many arms in Victory. Subterranean pipes hissing steam clanking unrest.
Secret panels opening up to Mausoleum subterranean chambers containing overturned ossuaries, bones bleached white scattered throughout the tombs.
Abruptly Angels on the Christmas tree come to life and like ravenous vampire bats attack unsuspecting visitors. Reanimated Reliquary Arms reach out to throttle throats of fleeing patrons. Fang toothed Egyptian mummies arise and break through display cases to satiate their ancient eon hunger upon frenzied victims. Their desert saliva spreading infection causing festering vile pus filled carbuncles to captive prey.
Desire run rampant as sacrilegious effigies coupled and reached radiant necrophilia orgasm stone bodies now made supple. Mystics and Monks glowered lecherously all the while reciting Gregorian chants, dirges and cries for absolution filling the room with the intensity of their mating.
Gargoyles descended from illicit trysts with human females and warlock man beasts gave into the licentious behaviors’ anointing themselves and fleeing clienteles with seminal fluid oily slick.
Orgasm became an exceptional obsession.
Viscous gleaming blood, shimmering with glided preternatural flakes of light. Black Iris her breasts like soft fragrant pillows.
Descendant Daughters’ of Jephthah and Tamar
Lord I Believe Help me overcome my unbelief. Father please remove all fears, self-doubts and my nagging sense of failure from my troubled heart and soul. I am the broken winged sparrow lying shivering cold, bereft of hope, hungry for acceptance, on yon forest glen. A Woodland Tragedy. Will Jesus the Gentle Woodsman gather up my shattered heart and bind up my bloody infected wounds? Lord Hear my plaintive cries.
Which voices do I believe? The Judging critical voices of men with ravenous sharp toothed dogs or the brutal voices of women holding sharp knives ready to strike and drive men into grave ground. Or Dear Lord your Tender Still Small voice as you Cradle me in your arms, safety bound. Oh God comfort the descendant Daughters’ of Jephthah and Tamar that we may find solace, peace and sanctuary in a weary heartless land.
Sticks and Stones
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.
The O’Jays – Back Stabbers
So goes the old Nursery Rhyme. But those of us who have survived domestic violence and school or workplace bullying know better. Doesn’t matter whether you’re 4, 14, 24, 34, 44, or 54 words do hurt. They do damage. Evil speaking can destroy careers, relationships and lives. Gossip, lies, slander, libel, and innuendo can cause scandals that cannot be lived down by the innocent victim. Battling scandalous stories sends victims on a quest to either prove their innocence or force them out of relationships or jobs because trust has been broken. In the extreme bullying is a major cause of suicide. No matter how hard the victim has worked, how faithful or how loyal he/she has been family, friends, colleagues and co-workers all view them in the light of these newly found “facts”. Those at the receiving end have to deal with the shame of false accusations.
Smiling Faces – The Undisputed Truth
Church is not a sanctuary or refuge from gossip and lies though it should be. How many of the faithful have been shunned or ostracized because of untrue rumors going around against them started by jealousy and envy. Constant jockeying for so-called high level church positions, i.e. those they get you closer to the Pastor have split congregations and created nasty battles that cause the faithful to leave and never return. Trust me when I say the Seven Deadly Sins are alive and well on Sunday mornings and in Bible Studies and Prayer Meetings. Maybe they should be called Prey Meetings.
In the case of domestic violence the abuser telling their spouse or partner over and over again how useless, ugly, stupid, dumb, fat or skinny they are becomes a belief system then a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Lust, anger, jealousy, envy, greed are the many roots of conflict among humans. Innocents are degraded and penalized never really understanding their crime. Victims are disgraced, dishonored and humiliated. Basically you’ve been judged, convicted and sentenced without even the opportunity to state your case or refute false information. Victims are consigned to a living nightmare a personal hell from which one is always trying to escape. You’re entire life becomes one of chaos and havoc. The health toll is enormous. Fear, nerves, anxiety, insomnia, nightmares, headaches and panic attacks rule the day. Every avenue of escape is blocked. How many lives have been ruined because words once spoken cannot be taken back? No, words are not innocent. They can be used as brickbats, swords, spears and knives. Words are deadly weapons imbued with the power of life and death.
We become the fallen Angels caught between Heaven and hell in a purgatory ruled by satanic beings obsessed with the destruction of mind, body and soul. Lost souls wandering a hellish limbo of victimization. Victims and survivors forever search for the lifeline and lighthouse of rescue.