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Quasimodo Quasimodo
by David Sparenberg
2013-07-07 13:12:10
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Deal with me.  I am here in this howling now, in this punishment of presence, standing beside or before you in body politic, with face of tears, pain, worry, confusion, and sorrow.  I have decided to remain defiant and not go away.

How do you ignore and silence me?  Do you turn your face from these my hands?  Do you deliberately walk off at fast pace, scoffing with dismissive laughter, or upset and cursing?

Do you tacitly conspire to force a bullet into my mouth, or my brain, or between my eyes?  So that killing shuts me up, shuts me down and returns your world to numbing, comfort, sameness and convenience?

Do you wish behind the mask of indulgence or the polite charade of tolerance that, let us say, a drone will appear in my sky, pinpoint target, exploding this third world of space and time I occupy?

Do you think it better for financial progress if I am dismembered, made ashes and vanish from view?  After all, homelessness and hunger are forms of terror.

Say: Do you recall the one who was crucified?  Of course many in many lands know Golgotha and are nailed to the cross of conscious life and death.  Everyone, at times, participates in the body of innocence; everyone, being socialized, is baptized in the blood of denials and neglect.

Only reflect on this: When you see before you one without defense, a house to cover head, a fetal spot the length and width of human dignity, or place to eat and rest in safety, you are challenged.  When you see the new stigmata, of the raw, the naked—thirsting, unfed, diseased and vulnerably human—you are named.  You are called out, pointed to, as twin of affliction.

Even when I move on, am gone,  as must be, the burden of existence heavy on my back, my shadow might linger lumpish on the ground; some word or two, a sound, guttural from my throat, blow back in the wind-swirl and politic of public litter.  That there continue, after, protest, a dream of justice, the “forked and crooked, unadorned,” the mystic, darkness, and the spirit.

Everyone earth-born, alive one minute, one hour, a day, a month, a year, a lifetime here, makes impression in the pliant of creation, contributing to hurt or healing—and evil or good endures.

David Sparenberg

20 June 2013

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Please check out and support the video project CROSSING the THRESHOLD TOGETHER, based on my ebook in the OVI Bookshop, LIFE IN THE AGE OF EXTINCTIONS and up at Indiegogo.com . Here is the link to the video project: HERE.  If you experience difficult contributing, please let me know through the Indie campaign.

 


    
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