"I used to feel like California, with baby eyes so blue..."

I was reading through my bulging archive-folder today (which actually ripped twice during the session, so I may need a new one), trying to get myself in the mood to write. I don't think it's happening at this point tonight, though perhaps it will come right when I'm ready for bed. I think that full half of my poems have been written at least a half-hour after my bedtime. The other half, of course, being written in Metaphysics class, sophomore year.

In any case, everyone should really have a physical archive-folder/book.  It really is so fruitful to read through and see the two or three lines scribbled in the margins that never made it into poems. Sometimes it can respark the idea that you didn't have the wherewithall to do justice to years ago.  In today's case, the fruit was tangible. I found a poem that I don't think I've ever shared.  I would never have thought to look for it if I hadn't found the hard-copy, but Google Desktop found it in some hidden folder, a simple .txt called "Untitled". It would have been lost for good. Not that it is my favorite ever. It's from December of 2006, but I think that its theme fits the current season, so I'm posting it in lieu of original material tonight.

Here we go, a typical Shakespearean sonnet, as I was wont.  As a matter of fact, it is a more proper Shakespearean sonnet than most of mine, seeing as it makes use of the volta and uses the final couplet to wrap the whole thing up.  It is rather interesting, reading through my archive, to see how my style really has subtly changed over the years.  I didn't think that it had.

Untitled (On the Subject of Humility) - 12/10/2006

At times, when I admire the trees and ground,

Extend a hand to touch the present world,

I feel a separation so profound:

My soul transcends Persephone unfurled.

Although her scented breath emits delight,

Although her lips are pomegranate red,

My lips have felt the Angel's coal so bright:

I breathe the breath of God, and hers is dead.

But still! Remember, oh my soul, the breath

That Love Himself expired on that day

Was breathed into a form of earthen flesh.

Thus so we are: immortal and decay.

So, lest the humble ground you start to spurn,

Remember: unto dust you shall return.

"... now I feel like Carolina, I split myself in two."

-L

"I read my lines, straight faced in the mirror. You are my camera."

A new sonnet. It's a little rough around the edges, but at least I'm getting back in the game.  I cannot for the life of me figure out how to punctuate the title.

I trust the task you started, you will end -1/09/09

Come out, come out my shadow-hidden friend.

This test must end in time, so why delay?

You swore that faith and hope must pass away,

And only Love can cause the world to mend.

For faith and hope are born in mortal hearts,

With mortal dreams, they live and die apace.

But, like the sun upon an upturned face,

We only know Your Love when Heaven parts.

But oh! If I could rend the iron sky

And, reaching up with hands stretched half in prayer

And half in desperation, give a cry

And know one syllable was heard, I'd dare:

"Come out, come out my shadow-hidden friend,

For only Love can cause a man to mend."

"Slouched over coffee, I'm faking artsy. We're playing dress up now."

-L

"Let our crowds be fed on tear-gas and plate-glass..."

My inaugural post on a new blog.

I was doing some reading today and I happened upon a piece that I found intriguing. This is from John Farrow's Pageant of the Popes (1942):

"[Callistus was elected pope in 217AD] However Hippolytus, whose undeniable brilliance had won him a considerable following, declared the election to have been false and then allowed his own disciples to bestow upon him the title of Head of the True Church. Thus for the first time we have an Anti-Pope.

[...]

The pretensions of Hippolytus persisted after the death of Callistus, throughout the pontificate of Urban (222-230) and into that of Pontian. For the first five years of this Pope's reign, the struggle was bitter and grave, for Hippolytus was a dangerously skilled antagonist. Then, in a fresh outburst of persecution by an Emperor who took no trouble to differentiate between true or schismatic Christianity, both were banished to the Sardinian mines. In the stultifying confines of imprisonment, antipathies are usually intensified into deadly hatred: less commonly a friendship is formed, strong with understanding and loyalty. Happily, it was the latter case with Pope and Anti-Pope. Hippolytus acknowledged his error and made a complete and unconditional submission to Pontian, who, without rancor, received him back into the Church. Soon after, this new friendship was sealed with the bond of dual martyrdom." (p 13, 14)

The issue that this passage made me think of, of course, was the recent bout of dialogue with the SSPX. Granted: the SSPX has not set up an Anti-Pope and are not a schismatic group. Why, then, is it that their leader went to his grave without full reconciliation? Why do certain current heads of this group find reconciliation distasteful, even with a pontiff so friendly to their desires? I think that, while common persecution drew Hippolytus and Pontian together as brothers, the hierarchy of the SSPX has come to view the Church as their persecutor as much as the World. This is, of course, not objectively the case, however I think that, at the root of all of the much-bemoaned Traddy-Bitterness, you can see this schema of Church-as-Persecutor.

In reality, of course, we are both beset on all sides and must have "in essentials, unity; in doubtful matters, liberty; in all things, charity." I wonder how this can be attained, short of handing Fellay and Benedict XVI hard-hats and sending them to Sardinia...

"... 'cause a people united is a wonderful thing."

-L

"Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes"

It is indeed a change for me to post anything.

At the same time, I am posting this mainly to note a change.

For Lenten purposes, I will likely be blogging frequently again, but I have decided to move to Blogger.

Reasons for this (provided because JG's recent defense of his remaining on LJ requires my reasons for leaving):

1) I was only ever on LJ because my friends used it, and only JG still uses it.

2) I already use 95% Google products to interact with the Internet, why not one more?

3) This blog is corny and, as corny as it was meant to be when it was created, I feel like making something that will be more relevant to my current cognitive-affective state.

4) I found a programme that will (purportedly) transfer all of my old LJ posts to my new Blogger account (which was my main concern anyways).

So my new blog will be starting at http://quid-retribuam.blogspot.com

I will soon be posting recent poetry and certain Lenten meditations.

"Turn and face the strange..."

-L