A Wedding Warp or How to Save Satan
~~ Falling ~~
The urban rubble stank of burnt choleric remains,
Grilled meat and fish, human and animal sweat and blood,
The air thick and charged with violent drum beats
Sacrificial rhythms, primal screams, frenzied laughter.
Young humans poured in and out of deep-colored banquet rooms
In the pallid tuberculoid shyness of twilight and mourning,
Fragile light sheltering the many faces of remorselessness.
“Come stranger, eat, drink, make sex and get ripped,
Memento mori, we all die, come, let’s set the world on fire,
Come, get touched, higher, let’s spoil before we go.”
Children cried in cold, damp dungeons
Where adults had imprisoned them for pleasure,
Torture, organ harvest, or out of plain cruelty and neglect
Some had managed to escape their prisons and joined the adults,
Some had been lucky to find safe, clean zones and sat quietly,
Humming forgotten harmonies of childhood bliss.
Wild beasts and verdure overgrowth slowly reconquered the cities
Decomposing before their time, giving off sulphur.
Satan’s fallen angels presided victorious over the chaos,
Naturally in the latest fashion and its immortal splendour,
Feasting on the spectacle of mass human degradation
Their army having finally conquered earth…
Or so they thought…
~~ A Rebel Angel Rises ~~
A few virgin islands still beckoned untouched.
Only the tongues of gluttonous turquoise waters
Licked the platinum expanses of sand and palm trees,
Thirstily gulping the last remains of incorruptible earth.
Snatching a body on the beach and letting a little cry
As his giant wings drop in the churning surf
The snake-hipped rebel angel rebuked the waves:
“This is now my piece of earth, be gentle, gone,
And touch them with no more than a kiss.”
As he strode in fearsome steps toward human habitats,
Long golden locks blowing like flaming banners
In the perilous, treacherous winds,
He thundered a message to waken the dead:
“Come to my wedding celebration and the golden circle
Come see my marriage end Satan’s reign.
His fallen warriors will come to my holy day,
My high nuptials to a pure human bride
And I will baptise them in the spirit with gentle names,
With the fire of immortal love I will name them good
And pacify their vile nature forever.”
Satan laughed and thundered back:
“Angels cannot marry. You have no physical bodies,
No gender. Marriage is for the gendered. Fool, go away.”
The snake-hipped angel stood unmoved:
“I have learned to occupy human bodies
And I will find a bride who hears my angelic voice.”
Still laughing uncontrollably, Satan roared back:
“The wager is on. If you find a bride who is immaculate,
Who can hear your voice and is not subject to my corruption
My army, my dominion, my angels will be pledged to Heaven
And do evil on earth as in heaven no more.
But you will fail as Jesus did.”
“You blaspheme, arrogant one,” the angel replied calmly
“Jesus did not fail. I am here to prove it. Your wager is on.”
Satan rumbled even more uncontrollably:
“If He didn’t fail why am I free? You, like all your brothers,
Belong to me. I will seduce you on earth with the pretty bride
And your soul will be mine, bound to ravish humanity forever
You will burn, my pretty child, for your mutiny.
Angels are mine.” The human form abided firmly,
Eyes resolute but calm, sinewy limbs taut but composed
Not a muscle stirred in the serene face of his mortal shape.
Satan’s anger, lacking patience, flared up and was ravenous:
“You and your human and the bride belong to me.
Only I rule the spirits of the human flesh
Because no angel has yet tasted its filth
And not grown addicted to its vile pleasures.
One condition: your bride must have an earthly husband.”
Lucifer’s features recomposed into the familiar odious smile,
But the angel, glowing inside the humble human garb, faced
The infernal winds he unleashed unmoved:
“I will fulfil your condition. You are sad and tired, Lucifer,
Old master of most splendid earthly glory. You have forgotten
The gentle winds of springtime passion and
The warm clement breezes of love’s full harvest?
You have forgotten the humility of being loved
By those mortals you so despise,
By the same mortals you enslave.
I will not fight you, angel Lucifer,
You are the most glorious, the master of ceremony.
No, I will restore your name
You will lead the festivities of my nuptials
I will heal your demon army
By the power of the knot of matrimony,
By the power of the eternal recurrence of love,
True love being from the beginning of time
The marriage of heaven and earth.
Love is most glorious where it cultivates ABSENCE.
You managed to fool them to believe in their own presence,
Potence and virility, sans the Father,
Our Father, the only one who can claim presence.
You broke every law and rule of the Father,
But your punishment will be human love.
All will be saved by this holy ring,
The crown of mine and my bride’s devotion to the Cross
And our tender love. Fear me, your reign is over
And the name of Love will be restored.”
Satan withdrew into the hood of his scarlet velvet
Hiding sparks of fear within the brandished eyeholes
Of his opulent hooded garment and bellowed a final retort
To the wind: “No woman can have two husbands.
At most you are a messenger, never a husband.
What has been cannot be. Earth is death-bound, mine!”
The angel smiled and cast his glowing eyelids downward
Toward the golden sandals in a gesture of humility:
“You are an advocate, a good lawyer, you know the law,”
Then raising his head toward the Father continued,
“But love is not love if it alters when it alteration finds.
Some women have learned to pass the test
Sweet Juliet failed. They know her fate, the lesson.
They weave tapestries of the sweetest pleasures,
The many nuanced sorrows of parting. They know absence.
Women have been learning even from you, glorious one,
Even from you! And learning your craft only to resist you!
Women escaped your surveillance, because of your arrogance.
Touched by the spirit ladies learn better than any angel
I have ever seen or heard in your mighty kingdom.
You taught us the language of things and we learned to spell it.
A tree is not delightful in nature
But re-planted with the care and grace of absence and memory,
Surrounded by the spiff and splendour of other transplants
It blossoms more beautiful and more magnificent still.
Not two husbands, but the same restored and replanted,
Not a woman and a demon, but two angels:
I, an angel headed to the altar of your bloody sacrifice
Where you wish to make a demon of me cuckolding a husband
Will be saved by a woman who through your own arts has become an angel.
I will beat you at your own game and save you by your WILL, glorious one.
You sow, I harvest. It is written in the story of the woman by Jacob’s well.
That all you saw, I, the angel of Love, will harvest. So prepare.
Spring comes to us at the farthest at the very end of harvest.”
Lucifer slumped back into his magnificent scarlet robe and withdrawing
Even further into the sunken holes where once his eyes had lived
Groaned pitifully and whispered to himself: “Save me if you can.”
Da Vinci, Annunciation (detail angel Gabriel)
~~The Lady and the Wedding~~
A sighing, gracile lady
Gathers the torn white wings
In the spirals of her ears
Filled with the human harmonies
Of city operas and concert halls
Calls her dark-clad lord:
“My Will I give up on earth
For mourning fair beauty
Is an apt frame for its power.
Be my Will, my tongue, my life.”
The wingless angel hears
Her call gathered in a bouquet
Of a thousand sweet notes
Weary of gracing the ears of emperors,
Their many knights, bards, rock stars,
And their splendid entourage
Of pretty ladies with eyes painted black,
And touching her mind’s eye answers:
“Thy Will I am and His Will also
The Father, and the Son, and the Spirit
Will and Testament of your beauty,
Lady of many splendid arras
And many dreamy bladerunners
Patient dark-rimmed Penelope,
Pale Cordelia, breathless Hel,
Sweet blue-eyed Margarete,
Slain Marion, if-you-seek-me Amy,
You have waited long enough
Dumb and happy, simple girl
Of complex science
Your philosophy made you a slave
To me and Lucifer
Not even your husband could save you
Yes, I have your Will
Weeping like a slender willow-bough
By the great turquoise pool
Sharpening a mighty bow
Out of tears turned icicles
In the long cold winter of your imprisonment”
The lady interrupts the angel’s litany:
“Don’t pity me, my Will,”
And turning her broad smiling eyes,
Toward the core of his vigour, sings softly:
“I am more powerful than you and Satan
The Father made me so.
Earth is dust, but I endure.
I am the base firmaments’ only hope
My heart, my ears indeed
Hold the musical key to eternity.
Make me dance on the waves
Make me sing with the surf
Not of glory and perdition
Not of your victories in battle
But of My Will for You.
We are one, so let us be ONE.
I am strong when I am weak.”
Her smile, brightening, continues,
“And my weakness is for you,
glorious angel. I have your wings,
But they are motionless.
Without the breeze of my weakness,
My Will and Love for your precious youth,
My Spring coming at the furthest
At the very end of Harvest,”
Her uncanny smile now lighting the skies
And darkening the sun,
Who in comparison recedes in the shadows
Of dusk and pale mourning
“You say I’m a lady of arras and weapons,
But I have no secrets, my heart is plain.
I have no weapons from spring to harvest.
My weapons live in winter only.
The icicles melt in spring
And the living water I received from Him
Gushes forth from the truth of my heart,
Of my love for you, my Will.
Yes, I submit to you without remainder,
Make me the master slave to your brilliant brow,
But know that only in my heart
Can you survive the icy arrows of Lucifer
Who turns you wintry, unpleasant cold,
I had a winter wedding, yes,
But only to melt the snow away
And bring summer calm
In the midst of the winter tempest
That was my life before marriage.
My heart is ONE, and this ONE is for YOU.
Ophelia named many flowers,
But that’s after she lost her heart to winter
And failed in her wedding plans.
All flowers, like all earthly rulers
Are ONE in my eternal heart
Which He gave me on the Cross
To remind me that my eyes
Be forever painted in black frames
Mourning my husband
To save him from the dust of the earth,
Mourning YOU, my Will,
Inside we are ONE.
Now I use the blades of the icicles
To paint bladerunners
And dance on the waves that bury them
And crucify them ring-cycle-style
Into brilliant diamonds
For the crown of my Will,
Shaking the platinum off this
Piece of earth under your feet,
Which I kiss and wash with my tears,
And yours, my angel husband,
My eternal one, the ONE
The only, my Will.”
Stunned the wingless angel
Took up his fallen wings from her ears
“The reign of Lucifer has taught you much, indeed,
But the glorious one failed to conquer your heart.
My bride, my sister, my selfsame beloved,
You amaze me with your knowledge,
But you amaze my heart even more,
For humans learn to love from you,
Not just mother, but loving bride,
And if the Dark One failed in your heart
He failed on earth. Rejoice, earthly beauty,
You are saved from prostitution to Satan,
Led from the dark-lit rooms of his seraglio
Matriculated in the brilliance of her heart:
Sole currency and world bank of your treasure.”
The lady curtsies and interrupts again:
“Not so fast, my Lord Will,
I love the Dark One darkly still.
He cannot escape my black paint
He is the eternal creature of lies
That nevertheless has no other shape
To gaze into than God’s creation.
Break the mirror of his lies
And he is the same as you, my Will.
I expose him here for the lies he fed me,
But love him I do and will forever.
Only my love can defeat him
And it loves where it hates
Cares where it must condemn
For my icy arrows are not against flesh
But against the lies he tells in dark mirrors.”
She bowed to the angel,
Took his wings weaved in her songs,
Sent him in a flight of primal ecstasy,
And whispered: “I DO”
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