Saturday, June 28, 2014

06/28/14

Tears are strange

When do I find myself in tears?

When my body is overwhelmed with emotion I tend to cry.

When I am so grieved that my heart cannot take it and I feel so sad my body creates tears. It is the overflow, the spilling. When my heart breaks like a glass containing water that is when my tears spill from my body.

When I am so overjoyed that my heart cannot take it and I feel so happy my body creates tears. It is the overflow, the spilling. When my heart swells to it's maximum like a balloon bursting that is when my tears erupt from my body.

These two extremes these two strange feelings. They are in so many ways opposites. They are night and day, sun and moon, good and bad, yin and yang and yet at the same time tears seem to tie them together they seem to find common ground as my eyes fill and release.

Why tears?

What is it to cry?

Does anything else cry like humans?

Are tears what it is to be made in the image of God?

Does God weep?

Why is it the overwhelming of my heart that triggers the formation and falling of tears? What is it about water from my eyes? Why is that the human reaction to extreme feelings?

Tears come from the eyes which are the window into the soul.

Why are tears a sign of weakness? Why are tears looked down upon in our culture? If a woman cries she is weak if a man cries he is a woman.

Why is being considered a woman an insult? Why are tears a sign of weakness? It takes more courage more strength to feel, to cry, than it does to build walls and harden your heart.

I cry so often. I cry when the kids in my class hug me. I cry when they cry. I cry when I see calves loosed from their stall. I cry when I walk through the door at the Oak House in Norwood.

I fought back tears this past Monday as I stood in the back watching my beautiful brothers and sisters eat the harvest from the Arawak garden that with the help of my Franklinton Gardens friends was prepared.

Standing there thinking about how God provided this land bank on 4th street.
How my friends all showed up on the work days to help.
How God's faithfulness allows a seed, which goes into the ground and dies, to sprout new life.
How in the rain that new life grows and strengthens.
How that life in the sun gains nutrients.

I fought back tears as I thought about those little neighborhood girls running across the street to help me pick beans off the stalk.
How what was once a tiny seed is now I giant head of lettuce.
How the Franklinton Gardens people celebrated with me and helped me cook this harvest.
And standing there in the back of the pantry.
The pantry, a place with so much of my life woven into it.
The pantry, as I've grown and learned inside and outside of it's walls.
The pantry, my heart overwhelmed and swelling as Greg and Cheryl Ball lead worship.

A community of people working together to grow, harvest, prepare, and eat a meal.
a community of sinners, of brokenness, a community of humans who's plans and lives didn't go the way they thought they would coming together as one body.
Not for money, not for fame, not for ambitions, just working side by side, for love.
The Kingdom of Heaven here on Earth.

This is the life I want. To invite everyone to live on an urban garden to harvest and share countless meals and experiences together. To cry tears of grief together. To cry tears of joy together. This is the life I want.

Tears are strange.

When do I find myself in tears?

When my body is overwhelmed with emotion.

Amos Lee - Flower

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

06/25/14

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.
-Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

A heart that is stretched by love can never go back to its old dimensions.

On the eve of the day I left for Europe I received a text from Steve. We started texting back and forth until eventually he told me between brush strokes that she was back with her ex.

I sat there with my phone in hand, hurt and confused, crushed and doleful.

Why? but it wasn't answers I was looking for in fact I don't know what the hell I'm looking for but I find myself seeking without purpose or direction.

Steve and I texted for hours and I didn't understand why this random person would spend the time or energy on me.

"Why do you care so much about my own stuff?"
"I care because I can see that you're broken. And it's sad. And I always try to help my friends because I always feel their pain and it makes me sad."
"Steve you're a really good friend. It's very strange that we are friends."

He and I continued to text about this stuff, and my heart feels like bursting, I feel sorry.

Eventually I came to the point of realizing she never felt half what I felt for her and here I am stuck with these memories and this box of stuff which is so overwhelmingly one sided that it makes me feel strongly pathetic.

I texted Steve and asked for a favor. Since he brilliantly decided to bring up this old wound the night before I leave for Europe then could he swing by and grab this box of memories which has long since lost its value.

The next day Steve walked up to my porch and I opened the door. I handed him the bucket and he asked if this was everything. Then I walked into the kitchen and I grabbed the Styrofoam cup which contained the plant from the temporary pantry the night she taught the bible study on Ruth. It was growing more and more each month and it's roots had reached deep and were stretching out the bottom hole.

I handed it to him and followed him out to his car. I watched him toss all of those memories, over two years worth of feelings, into the trunk of his car he slammed it shut and nodded his head. I hugged and thanked him for helping me do what I hadn't been able to do. We said goodbye and I jumped on a plane to Ireland.

The Lumineers - Dead Sea

Saturday, June 21, 2014

06/21/14

How I became a Universalist


Red triangle - political prisoners
Green triangle - convicts
Blue triangle - emigrants
Purple triangle - Jehovah's Witnesses
Pink triangle - homosexual men
Black triangle - The mentally ill, Alcoholics. Vagrants, Pacifists, Conscription resisters, Prostitutes, anarchists, Drug addicts
Brown triangle - Gypsies

As I stood in Dachau concentration camp staring at the badge coding system poster the Nazi's used to identify prisoners my mind thought about Hell.

How could my mind not wonder into the topic of Hell? Here I was in a place that is never ending torture. It's purpose, its reason for being is torture and capture. I stood there staring at the reasons people were placed in this camp and I thought about the reasons people are sent to Hell.

I thought about my grandpa who died this past fall. I thought about how at his funeral I learned how he had liberated a concentration camp but never spoke much about it. I imagined through the photos, the film, and my surroundings what it must have been like for my dad's dad to find a place like this. The smell, the sights, the survivors, what did my grandpa feel? What did my grandpa do?

Walking outside from barracks to other buildings I could see the sun shining, trees growing, birds singing. How strange a place like this with such evil cannot hold back the beauty of resurrection.

Then I thought about Jesus.

A concentration camp is a place people are taken simply because who they are. It is a place without hope. It is a place without end. It is Hell.

The people inside of the camps are there because of the "sins" they committed in the eyes of those who control the camps.

Hell is a spiritual realm of evil and suffering, often traditionally depicted as a place of perpetual fire beneath the earth where the wicked are punished after death.

Hell is a place the wicked are punished after death.
Concentration camp is a place the "wicked" are punished on earth.

As I stood in the so called "shower room" and I thought about how 150 humans could be in there at a time. I stood there, in that room, I was there thinking. Where was Jesus? Where was hope? Where was love?

Days later I found myself standing in a very different room, The Sistine Chapel. The official residence of the Pope in the Vatican City. I cannot describe the feelings I felt while in that building but I can simply say I was overwhelmed. Looking up at the Michelangelo frescoes thinking about him standing on that scaffolding painting over 5,000 square feet. And there in the middle of the ceiling his master piece "The Creation of Adam" I couldn't believe I was actually looking at the original. I was standing in the same room as Michelangelo once had himself, along with centuries of popes.

The ceiling wasn't the only part of the chapel he had painted. 23 years after he had completed the ceiling a different pope called him back to paint the wall behind the altar. It took Michelangelo 6 years to complete the wall and what we have today is known as "The Last Judgement" I found myself again thinking as I looked at this enormous painting and I thought about Hell. Jesus is in the middle of the painting with his right hand raised calling the saints into Heaven and with his left hand lowered casting the sinners into Hell. Again I felt uneasy.


If Hell is a place for the wicked then it must be operated and created by the One who judges who is wicked and who isn't.

Concentration camps are operated and created by evil. They are a place of forced imprisonment and torture because of judgement. In reality it wasn't the imprisoned who were the wicked but rather the Nazis.

If that's the case then Hell cannot exist, or at least in the traditional sense. If Hell exists then it is run by the judge and the judge must be evil.

God is love, God is righteous God cannot run Hell. But God is the judge, so what does this mean?

I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.
-Romans 8

If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I go down to Sheol, you are there.
-Psalm 139

Jesus frees
Jesus loves
Jesus forgives
Jesus redeems

Standing in that "shower room" and standing in the Sistine Chapel I realized that Hell cannot exist in the tradition sense. Jesus does not see our sins. We are not defined by a patch or a colored badge on our prison uniform. We are set free. We cannot be separated from the love of God. God is not absent from concentration camps. God is not absent from Hell but rather God is with us.

If there is a Hell it isn't out of God's creating but rather our own. As C.S. Lewis says:
"I willingly believe that the damned are, in one sense, successful, rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside."

Thrice - Beggars

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

06/10/14

Ten Stories


February 8th, 1878
South of Trout Creek, west of Cedar Lake
On a winding mountain trail of the North Pacific Union Rail
The snow arrived on time, the circus train was running late
Rip spot’s past and all the knuckles worn,
Firebox bursting to the running boards
A pounding in his chest, crushing like a cider press
The hogger rode the throttle ‘round the bender like a flank-strapped horse

[ELEPHANT (addressing the frightened animal car):]
"Let’s return now to the dust as the dust we are;
tonight, our bridal fate, the hour’s come to consummate!"
And drove her massive body like a truck into the iron bars
Limestone thrown from out the hopper’s back
Ash Cat tossed against the diamond stack
from cradle to caboose, the frozen bolts broke loose,
sent that cage spinning like a dreidel off the icy tracks

Run on, Rabbit, run!
Before the East sky wakes the sun!
Sails set to the dreadful cold,
Until your anchor-heart takes hold
Run on, Fox & Bear,
From this dismal dream’s despair!
Cast thoughts to in the open ocean of air
Until your thread catch somewhere

[ANIMALS:] "Mother, please come along!"
[ELEPHANT (from inside her cage):]
"My tusks are dull, my eyes, half-blind,
too old to run, too big to hide,
and have neither friend nor enemy,
nor that phantom, ‘self’-identity
nor concern for what ‘they’ll’ do to ‘me’
now, my children, run free!"

But Tiger, why sit still,
As the officers climb the hill?
What stars cast down their spears,
cooled your fire with their tears?

[TIGER:] "Gone that siren’s sound,
it’s a silence now pours down
Gone, my next of kin,
and all once without now lives within"

[FOX & RABBIT:] "Topiary Tiger, once burned bright
save your tales of gnostic sight
and take heed on this (most) auspicious night!
Topiary Tiger, once burned bright"

mewithoutYou - February, 1878


Rabbit fled, best guess, toward home
Fox & Bear toward Yellowstone
Walrus, north to the border towns
Peacock swayed like a reed on the fence a while
(with a stalwart sense of style!)
as the policemen’s nets came down
Word of the crash had spread fast and spread far
From Clark’s Fork to Blackfoot Reservoir
more grist for the malady mill

Shepherd the Southwest wind,
"railspikes ripped like the seam of a wineskin"
Shepherd the Northwest rain,
"Brass Hat slept at the helm of that woeful train…
Ain’t it an awful shame!
And don’t it just break your heart to hear of so much pain?"

Casey Jones walked slow to the prison cell
His face held hard as a scallop shell

[CONDUCTOR:] "Well, I wish I wished you well,
but your last friend on Earth now calls
from the silent side of the cemetery walls
your great cause to the moths and the rust!"
[ELEPHANT (Fanning her ears with a calm in her eyes):]
"It’s the laws of cause and effect that you criticize
But sir, criticize them you must"

Three miles more ‘til Flagstaff
Follow behind signs toward Badger Pass
Wound like clocks around fretboards
Carved out hands in our basswood body guitars -
borrowed guitars (borrowed hands!)
I’m clearly not as handsome or caring as what you seem to want,
but I’d gladly walk you home,
‘cause those streets can be dangerous

Shepherd the Southwest wind,
"railspikes ripped like the seam of a wineskin"
Shepherd the Northwest rain,
"frog switch slipped and that reckless beast is to blame
Ain’t it an awful shame!
And don’t it just break your heart to hear of so much pain?"

mewithoutYou - Grist for the Malady Mill


We met by chance by the row river sign
Our soft fire danced as our tea leaves dried
She hatched our plans in the atmospheric tides
Said, "Let's give up sacrifice this Lent
Well, that joke's long, it's been spent"

So as the fool on the bagpipes played
We kept cool in the parasol shade
Your thumb on my page at my tender age
East enders wives

And hidden in the fox thorn blind
We grew old as the foxtail pine
Sheep in the cold shielding our gold
Sipping on milk and water like

She packed our bags some arbitrary time
Then waved like a flag from the white star line
Unmoored, unwell, though I seldom elegize
We both been untrue but I'm still counting on you
Like an invisible rosary

And as the past and all plans are undone
Slowly sank like a shipwrecked sun
Bridges and ropes, burning them both
Burned up the sky

Choir sang as the black birds fell
Sorrow rang like the church-yard bells
An axe to the trees, smoke for the bees
And all our dads died

mewithoutYou - East Enders Wives


[Peacock:]
Ragged robbins for the curtain call
Wrapped in ribbons on the trailer door
Carved initials in a concrete footstall
On the imitation marble floor
We’re the boxtop admissions and their throwaways,
Strewn across tobacco roads
With their wormwood shots and their snake oil plots
Drunk sheepshank con men and their sycophants

And I often wonder if I've already died

[Tiger:]
Out at elbows by the encore
But there’s a citadel inside
Where I’ll go and shape my heart like yours,
As you shape yours like mine
Where we’re the spiraling arms of all galaxies
And we’re the microscopic sand
Suffering from delusions of ungrandeur on middling display
Beside the Cardiff giant with the alabaster eyes

I often wonder if I've already died,
Or if the 'I' is an unintelligible lie

Off we flew like swarms of hornets

'Woken up' from winter’s rest
To colonize with plastic pulp

Our neighbor’s perfect paper nest
While all year round potter wasp

Has buzzed her unhinged song
You can hear its creaking in our floorboards

Megalomania’s only mania if you’re wrong

mewithoutYou - Cardiff Giant


Pillary stocks at the gallows tree dock
the crowd grew impatient the clouds threatened rain
Elephant arrived at the Constable's side,
with her trunk locked in shackles, and her ankles in chains

[Bailiff:]
"All rise, all rise, his Honor presides,"
the Judge took the bench to the village brass cavalcade,
Elephant refused to swear the oath,
[Elephant:]
"I don't know anything about truth,
but I know falsehood when I see it,
and it looks like this whole world you've made"

Good of our chaplain to sail Kalispell Bay
And now down on his marrow for this old fool to pray,
"Lord, for sixty-so years I've surrendered my love,
to emblems of kindness, and not the kindness they were emblems of,
Trammels and rings, with the strength of old strings,
and some hobble skirt spring, by the old problem caught,
Children, sometimes I think all our thoughts are just things,
and then sometimes think things are just thoughts,"
and the rabble rang

[Crowd:]
"Hang! the Elephant must hang! the Elephant must hang!
Hang! the Elephant must hang! the Elephant must hang!"

[Elephant:]
"A thirteen coil knot for the samovar pot! Scottish Oatcakes in haversacks each to its grave
This mock trial can no more determine my lot,
than can driftwood determine the ocean's waves,
Brandish your ropes and your boards, and your basket-hilt swords,
but what is there can punish like a conscience ignored?
Yes, my body did just as you implied,
while some ghost we'll call 'I' idly watched through its eyes,"
and the jury sang,

"Hang! the Elephant must hang! the Elephant must hang!
Hang! the Elephant must hang! the Elephant must hang!
Hang! the Elephant must hang! the Elephant must hang!
Hang! the Elephant must hang! the Elephant must hang!"

[Elephant:]
I feel it stealing now
All adrift fathoms down

mewithoutYou - Elephant in the Dock


Sugar down the syrup in the Queen Anne's lace
Shining in the light of nightshade
Cultivating unsophistication in my face
Trying to think of nothing to say
Grapes gone sour and the spinach went to seed
(it was spindly and sick from the outset)
Waiting for the hour with a wherewithal to leave
Patient as a dog for its master

Aubergine

The Labrador was locked through the promontory rock
She called down, said time is an illusion
An inconsequential shift as the continents drift
But my confidence was crushed and I miss you regardless

Aubergine
Aubergine

[Aubergine:]
You can be your body but please don't mind
if I don't fancy myself mine - you at 32 still tied to your poor mother's apron strings!

Sorrel in the gravel and the saffron robe
Sleeping like a shark in the cord grass
until I saw how far I traveled down the solipsistic road
I climbed out to ask for directions
There was not a pond in sight and here I'm gasping like a fish
In the desert with a basket full of eggplants
who asked about the passage of the Bible on my wrists
But I couldn't catch my breath enough to answer

mewithoutYou - Aubergine


Provisionally 'I' practically alive
Mistook signs for signified
And so since I’ve often tried
To run them off a cliff like Gadarene swine
and tied my thought-ropes in anchor bends
wondering whether we were someone better then,
or maybe just better able to pretend
(and what better means to our inevitable end!)

[Bear:]
No, I don't know if I know
though some, with certainty insist
'no certainty exists'
well I'm certain enough of this:
in the past 14 years, there's only one girl I've kissed
In the blistering heat of the Asbury pier
we sat quiet as monks on the Ferris wheel
Until looking down at the waltzer
and out at the sea
I asked her, "did it ever have that recurring fantasy
where you push little kids
from the tops of the ride?"
she shook her head no
I said "oh, neither do I"
and with my grandmother's ring
I went down on one knee
and the subsequent catastrophe
has since haunted me
like a fiberglass ghost in the attic
my inconveniently selective memory
as provisionally 'You' mercifully withdrew
all the bearing points we thought we knew
Day's run, days set plot
our compass shot
we sailed waywardly on
singing out midnight archer songs
until well past dawn
it's still dark in the deck of our boat
haphazardly blown broken bows
our aimless arrow-words
don't mean a thing
so by now I think
it's pretty obvious that there's no God
and there's definitely a God!

[Fox:]
I dreamt of the rocks at the Asbury dunes,
and that you jumped from the top
of the Log Flume,
and they gather like wolves
on the boardwalk below
and they're howling for answers
no wolf can know
I charged at the waves
With a glass in my hand
I was tossed like a ball
at the bottle stand
and I landed beside your
remains on the stones
where you cold fingers
wrapped around my ankle bone
while maybe ten feet away was a star
thousands of times the size of our sun
exploding like the tiny balloons
you'd throw darts at

[Bear:]
I slept until our chest was full
of yarn we spun from Shetland wool
in socks from where the Dorset grows
sheared and scoured hours before
the rooster crows

[Fox:]
the price of German silver fell
threw this disused thalers
down the superstition well

mewithoutYou - Fox's Dream of the Log Flume


Half mass, land grants, homesteading walk, passed dodge summit toward Athabasca Falls

Tracks in the tall toadflax where he crawled,
Past Dodge Summit toward Athabasca falls,
Practicing his Avocets and Gnatcatcher calls
Walrus trudged along
While low in a lodgepole branch nearby
Barnyard Owl watched with an amorous eye

OWL: “What unprecedented gift does this afternoon provide?”
“I’ve flown across the sea where the soldierfish swam,
I’ve slept inside the shoe of the world’s tallest man,
I saw Charlotte Corday with the knife in her hand;
It was nothing new
I’ve perched on Steele, Dakota’s sandhill crane
I flew among the Paiutes before the Mormon rain,
I was in Virginia City for the stringing up of Clubfoot Lane
But I’ve never seen anything like you.”
All untied, by and by!
But I’d pour the matrimony wine
All untied, by and by!
so if you’re ever so inclined…”

WALRUS: “What from the air now calls to water on the land?
What from my seclusion does this charlatan demand?
What to do now with my best-laid eremetic plans?
I’ve been to the Arfaks where the Sicklebills fly,
seen Tangier’s acrobatics nine stories high
I was there at Appomattox back in ’65 when the General arrived
But I’ve never been in this room before!
[aside] All untied, by and by!
that same old dream’s trapped in my mind
I’m bound in ropes and on the firing line
well, I wake up disappointed every time

[to OWL]: If the weather ever withers up your vine
Jacob knows a ladder you can climb
If that old thorn is still buried in your side,
Jacob knows a ladder you can climb…”

OWL: “Well, if your pacific rivers all run dry
their clouds will fill my loud, corrupted sky
And if the pleasures of your heavens ever end
That very ladder just as well descends!”

mewithoutYou - Nine Stories


Stitch up the nets but the patch won't stay
As the nail beds rest in the calico hay
The Fiji Mermaid dressed in macrame's
Wading road in the fork and a bend
In the spoon tern cut short as a shadow at noon
Melting like wax as that once full moon's
Now waning ersatz acts an insufferable bore
'Sharp Shots' dull as a harlequin's sword
When doing as you please doesn't please you anymore

Stick of the match as the paraffin show
Drop a nickel to watch the asparagus grow
'The stone in what shell?'
You sure like to know now don't you?

A loom in the heir as the medicine came
To the nest of the mare of the mystery claims
But you'll miss having someone to blame
For your sadness, now won't you?

Well maybe there'll be a bakery hiring
We'll knead a little dough to get by
(Groan!)

Did you come knocking on my door
Or did I come to yours?
Whose ship came washed up on whose shore?
And from what ocean floor?

There wasn't much to her dress
and I felt stuck in my body like a horse in quicksand...

Didn't you come knocking on my door?

mewithoutYou - Fiji Mermaid


Barren rocks and sand, Bear & Fox held hands,
held like a timber hitch, held candles to the sun
Both faint and fading fast, they walked on, windward
kept time with a pocketmouse, mouths kept mostly shut
Thought broke the silence like a bone

[FOX:]
[half-moaning] “you’ve worn me like an albatross,
I’ve only slowed you down.
You could’ve long traded in your braided crown by now
you could’ve found that Anabaptist girl you always used to go on about
As we rode in circles on our bicycles;

we walked on balance beams
the audience cheered for us
We burned like fevers under carriage hats
hid behind Venetian masks
In our human costumes
We stood like statues once in shepherd’s check
we’ll both be decked in herringbone,
wrapped border drab around already broken ironstone”

[BEAR:]
“But I’ve seen these cliffs before,
St. Agnes brought her palm branch to the hospital
looked upward lest the charm had fled
from my brother’s breathing bed
And when he died I shut his dogtooth violet eyes:
He looked just like me
climb on down and see
they laid him on the rocks below
there’ll be enough to fill your cup for days;
I’ll stay up here and rest.
[aside] We’ll fly in straight lines as from carronades
we’ll crash like tidal waves, decimate the islands
As our hollowed lumber falls like water, ends where I start
In that tattered rag shop back in Asbury Park

Look how soon my hands won’t move
but if you’ll improve, we’ll all improve
Sixty feet and my feet won’t move
but if you’ll improve, we’ll all improve
Forty feet, my legs won’t move
but as you improve, we all improve
Fill our den with acorn mast,
I’ll wake before the salmon pass
Ten foot more and nothing moves”

mewithoutYou - Bear's Vision Of St. Agnes


All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin
But only in their leaving can they ever come back around
All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin
But only in their leaving can they ever come back around
All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin
All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin
But only in their leaving can they ever come back around
All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin
But only in their leaving can they ever come back around
All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin

All circles begin with an end
They come back around
They come back around again

All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin
But only in their leaving can they ever come back around
(All circles presuppose they'll end where they begin
But only in their leaving can they ever come back around)

mewithoutYou - All Circles


Logger Days, savannah, the menagerie packed its trains
left Bitter Root, Montana for those old Nebraska plains
Ticket sales were suffering now, with half the animals gone
but the circus kept its course somehow and the show continued on
Pitched their tents in Battle Creek on the makeshift flatbed stage
with a draytop shotgun rhino's peak and a black wrought iron cage
The Barker sprung to action as the band began to play
to introduce the new attraction who they'd picked up on the way

Julian the Onion who they'd picked up on the way

BARKER: "Cleanse your minds and palates, as I seldom mince my words,
This poor boy's a walking shallot; yes, it's shocking as you've heard!
From his lonesome, yellow childhood, so fantastically deformed,
He was battered by his classmates and sautéed like bantam corn
'Red Vidalias!' 'Valley Sweets!' for twelve long, rotten years
if he so much as skinned his knee, the entire schoolhouse moved to tears
We found him where he'd sprouted, plotting a garden coup d'etat
in a carrot stick and celery stalk manage-a-mirepoix
Now, feast your caramel eyes on the most savory sight in town!"
All his joking well-evoking peals of laughter from the crowd

But Julian the Onion was not laughing with the crowd

His jaundiced face was trembling, beads of sweat began to fall
Down his oblong goose back forehead to his snuffed-out lantern jaw
his cut-shoot sprig of hair disheveled, tiny fists impearled

JULIAN: "No I am not this misshaped body, and I'm not long for this world
Wooden dimes and quiet fears, come curl your lips at me
but all perceptions are as mirrors, it's your own reflections that you see
So hide behind your laughs a while, look handsome though you may,
oh, do enjoy that saccharine smile, as there comes for you a day"

mewithoutYou - Julian the Onion


Dear seven sisters, all is distance here
all look into never out of every face
I'll let you be my belief if I can be your doubt
signed from Persia:
Kind subversions of a kind I couldn't say
as our blessed lack of conversation
has kept me alive so far today

All my savings soon were spent, so in the vales of early Fall
Under tables, covered rent by packing bales of barley straw
With efforts held to circumvent the watchful eye of federal law
And mama, though I've been so alone,

my faith in love is still devout!

With solemn sounds the potter's ground beneath our bare wandering feet
our crooked hearts in Sacred Harp sang out the dark inside us deep
their shapes of sorrow fell like shadows on the farm-to-market roads
that led my stumbling steps back home

But mama why four fires burning? Why so quiet Father's room?
Has he not heard his son returning? or has he gone to gather food?
or is he off stomping in the forest? or has he wandered into town?

"Son, I think it's best that you sit down-
His faith in love was still devout..."

Mama, sing my favorite hymn,
as I sink deep into the grass,
and the night birds beat me with their wings,
with horrid laughter as they pass
the stage goes dim, its pageants finished
fleeting worlds to which I've clung with a now extinguished longing

Mama, sing my favorite hymn,
where we make ploughshares from our swords
and the mason's barber trims our Christmas tree
in the Oneness of our Lord
what grace surrounds! what strange perfection!

Mama, sing my favorite hymn,
remind me:
everyone is him.

mewithoutYou - Four Fires