paintings of passion
how
can you live,
if you don't love
to die?
if you don't love
to loose?
if you don't love
to miss?
how can you love
to live
without the crosses
and the nails?
how can you live
if you don't love
to learn?
how can you love
a world,
if you don't go for it,
with all you are,
with all it is?!
how can you truly
faithful be,
not sticking fast
to any goal,
not hanging on
to any
precious body
and its dearest
soul?
so let us live
this life,
and love it,
stand it,
tall!
let's face,
unstained,
with honesty,
and free of fetters,
nothing
but the truth
of things,
of love,
of pain,
uncovered,
naked,
pure.
cry out,
but not of desperation!
cry out for passion
and of love,
defy the odds,
despite it all,
tenaciously
and daring,
attentive,
chary,
tender
and aware!
or don't you care
for anything
at all?!
so you
won't leave
and you
won't flinch.
no fleeing
to illusions,
no preachings
of "salvation",
no promises
of "heavens",
no backdoors
into "other lives",
no direct path
to "paradise",
no easy
self-eradications!
but strength,
and joy,
and loyalty
to life,
to what you have to do,
and what is dear to you!
there is a truth,
a godly one,
and that's yourself,
your goals,
your grit,
your love,
your world,
their fabric,
their unfolding,
designed and done
with all allegiance
to the looming framework
of necessity
and fact.
within the stones
of this cathedral
pray,
explore
and meditate,
a mason
and a weaver,
an artisan
and engineer,
a builder
and technician,
a thinker
and a scientist,
with open eyes,
through many tries,
and finally display
the paintings
of your passion!
for this
compose a symbol-shrine,
with all your life-time's
apple-cores.
to Eve and Mary
you will bow,
and also
to a humbled procreator,
a careful
Father Sky,
protector now
of Mother Earth,
so mighty,
yes,
but fragile too.
think
of a loving couple
on the top,
with children,
sheltered,
playing,
marveled,
and revering,
but certainly
not shamed
and not in fear,
around a lingam,
and a yoni,
dripping,
glossy,
like orchids
after rain.
then,
as a sign
of a callous reign
of laws and chance
in a shimmering universe,
showing only
on occasions,
fragile aspects
called "divine"
- love and pity,
mercy, goodness,
reason, knowledge,
justice, honesty,
contentment, pleasure,
peace and beauty,
joy, or even:
bliss -
have a peacock
boast his fan.
feed him
seeds
of human lives,
spelt on sheets
of starch
from earthly deeds.
if he gets
no godly cores
you will see
just more
of icy luster
in his splendid
feathercoat
and his pitch-black
eyes.
now,
in the shadows
of this shrine,
in the darker parts
of your depictions,
amidst chores,
above all strife,
over figures,
forward looking
and inside,
knowing well
they shall dissolve,
let serenity
like halos shine.
light this is
of the divine,
lived
by them,
and brought
to life.
20.1.13
(with due respect to the inspiring performance by greyson chance of "paparazzi" here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxDlC7YV5is [20.1.13],
also of gianmaria testa, reciting jean-claude izzo, in a wonderful video of redouane afrit:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QJChkms7SQ [published 24.9.12]
and with the picture of the smiling, dying warrior from the aphaia-temple of Aigina in mind.
Well, and then Grünewald and Hugo van der Goes...)
Well, and of course Grünewald's Christ was in the back of the mind:
