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House Of Figs

the ‘Inbox’ lights up with ‘Bethany’ and clarions like room service
from the distant past: ‘Ride the shock waves of changes,
full circles, and settling or shaken perspectives…’
the feverish reply launched into the echoing miles of ether
towards Washington in the Pacific North West:
‘how bleak the backlit Plutonian shores of Sligo...’
I am conflicted between images of you: one is the female
crucified Jesus. Sunday school revolt, ideational acting out
of the repeated headline: ‘Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabachthani’
a saddle of calligraphy on each thigh from the ink-jetting pen
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Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: love and life,love and pain
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COMMENTS
Divine Peace 11 January 2019
Question, with Jesus' last words on the cross are you referring to the True meaning... My God, My God, I was spared(for this was my destiny) ... Or did you mean the satanic version of his words My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? ...
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author 11 January 2019
it is difficult to comment on a poem but thank you for yr inquiry. there could never be anything 'satanic' in the poem, never
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Anahit Arustamyan 29 September 2018
Very deep and beautiful work which touches hearts.
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