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This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2005-11-11 03:52:50 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Moral Aspect

"Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely." Put this to me, the day you come to die In death’s uneasy moment’s searching sun Of you, and all you are, and all you were, That you’ll need nothing from The Lebanon. Oh, will you not? Confession’s neither meant To be a crime nor prophylactic till The day we learn to weave a finer prayer, But what it is: a wish to reconcile Within the highest church, of Here and Now, Where all the evil is, and all the Host That drew us up, debased us with ourselves And gave us lamentations in our dust. Where did you think you lived? There is no shame My modern saint, in learning to forgive Our Judas, with his prayer around his neck, Who swung precisely so our Christ could leave The legend of His Holy Name behind. Yahweh capricious is: and hence the Christ And Shiva, Buddha and The Lebanon, All agents for eternal real estate, Must strike the mean of this unfairest deal. Put this to me, that Job’s forgiven God From love and not from mortal bloody fear And I’ll forgive your ignorance, and nod, Once more, at how All Power makes us wire Anew our neurons, now to genuflect, To lick His dung and say “It’s sugary!” And this is what you’d rather me forgive? I may, in time. But I am here and now And Man is my immediate concern, Who knows not what he does, and that’s the crux: Just like our God, we’ve better ways to learn.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2005-11-26 13:40:40
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
I think you need a comma after "shame" and a snort of the son of James. Right.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-11-25 17:33:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mark, Very interesting, very deep, the ponderings of most of man in a nutshell and so clearly defined. Not sure I agree with all you've stated but I love the way you state things and your use of language, like music or fine art, a true gift. Anyway, for most part I believe that religions are of man not of God, spirituality is of divine grace. Therefore, most have valid points and one can endeavor to take what is good to heart and chuck the rest out the window. If asked for divine guidance when contemplating such things the divine creator speaks to the heart and can truly guide one in their quest for knowledge. However, holy wars, war of all kinds have gone on for millenia and believe those who partake of these things delight in their ignorance and indulgences as to blind themselves to the truth of the matter. So, how does one argue with merit if no one will hear what is really said...OK, I'll get off the soap box. I like it, I think it is a fine work and that it needs more exposure, possibly to a wider audience, polictical magazine or such, maybe the New Yorker. Thank you for sharing this arduous work with us, kudos! Best always, Lora

This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2005-11-11 17:44:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.84615
Mark, I was going to stick with just critiqueing poems as they came up on my lists. That can't keep me, however, from reading what is posted. This one has such powerful lines, it arrested me to comment. There is every right for every mortal to quesion anything. The principal of free will is just that. Over my stay on this pitiful planet I've know many wonderful people, some atheists. Always these atheists were obsessed with confronting God, whether they knew it or not. And always, not in the sense of treating something that did not exist, but in the sense of something that had abandoned them and did. At first, I wrote this off to pre-juvenile imprinting, the immersion of young minds into a milieu full of religious reference. But I began to know men and women "atheists" whose parents has taken pains to seclude them from this. Still, there was no difference. The funny thing about all these "atheists" was that they were, for the most part, the most moral and intro- spective of all. And the most self-demanding. As if they were showing everyone how much better they could be without God. When I would argue that it might be religion they were really at odds with, they would get pissed at me and threaten to stop dealing with me at all. Many had thought me an atheist, and for them, I had become something that had either reverted due to an imaginary bump on the head, or was some kind of double agent. Even when I told them I allowed no one else to speak for God to me, it made no difference. They had become "socialized" as much into atheism as the religious had in their beliefs. I finally concluded they had become as steeped in "religion" as those that believed in God. Denial can become its own God. I see God as Purpose and His Hand is all about us. He is like my ultimate Theory, one that incorporates all things into meanings I've yet to understand, but have the faith that all things have meaning. Now maybe I have rationalized just to avoid atheist society. They ARE the most boring people on the planet and make up a great many of the misanthrope population, but I still have the highest regard and love for them because they are vastly the purest people you will ever know, always harder on themselves than others. In that respect, I find them angelic. That's a kicker, isn't it? One of them could have written this poem. W.B. Yeats referred to a Ceremony of Innocence, it was what Morrison entwined into his Ceremony of the Lizard. Both knew on an highly personal level, the substance of this poem of yours. Even the more nefarious and highly gifted charge of Alistair Crowley, Jack Parsons (who founded The Jet Propulsion Laboratories) visited your concerns at great length and in far more erudite terms than the Founder of the Golden Dawn. These were devout men all, religious men all. And all suffered deeply from feelings that God had abandoned them. You are keenly intelligent. Once cannot argue with such wonderful stanzas as this: Within the highest church of Here and Now, Where all the evil is, and all the Host That drew us up, debased us with ourselves And gave us lamentations in our dust. But God did not bless any of those that pronounce blessing. He did not condemn those condemned out of the mouths of men. Christian fellowship, any fellowship is not one step above a bawdy brawl when it is led by a Pied Piper or pedophile priest (inspite of the Doctrine of Infallibility) and because you know this so deeply does not discharge your understanding from being acceptable by anyone of conscience. For that is where the bite comes in, does it not? Truth must always be on the plate. The example of Job is just one mix of a pot started boiling by those obsessed by speaking for God. Just as Duane Jackson, in his poem on the serpent finds issue with the story of Adam and Eve. But the damage done comes into the present and manifests in ways that could hardly have been meant by any God. Now I have a point in all this: You are right to hold Man as your immediate concern, but do not shout to the heavens about what is solely confined to this earth. There are things kept from your view that could easliy reconcile you to a less angered aspect, as far as to grant you answers to questions even you have yet to ask. It is evil Men that hide these from you, men that haven't the purity to be atheists (free thinkers) but believe in nothing, instead. JCH

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2005-11-11 14:44:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
MAH, I do not believe these white boxes that we critique in are the place for theological or other debate. In our poems - if they are to be meaningful creations of sincerity - yes, obviously. As you've shown here. But I yield the floor to you on the substance of the debate, since it's "your" floor I'm standing on. And my feet are too hot to stand here long. :) I love your quatrains here, the very delicate suggestions of rhyme, the very, very slant rhymes employed. The form is tight, deliberate. It is as if you are the avatar of reason, addressing another, more "mystical" conception. One a world away from yours; the distance between heaven and hell, though I sense you would reject those terms. Perhaps my walking away from this "debate" is a moral failing on my part. But I would not convince you of my view, as you would not convince me of yours. So I punt. An American football punt. MSS

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2005-11-11 11:08:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mark, I can honestly feel your pain in every word of this plea for forgivness....'there is no shame, my modern saint, in learning to forgive' Put this to me, that Job’s forgiven God.............some poeple are unable to forgive due to their feelings From love and not from mortal bloody fear...........of over inflated righteousness. It is difficult to right and I'll forgive your ignorance, and nod............a wrong but everyone should be given a chance to do just that. If they are denied that chance is the wronged one worth it? None of us are without sin...even God knows that...so is 'she' the only one above sin? Ummm interesting question...have you asked her that? I hope writing has the cathartic effect for you that it does for me and if it does then write on and the healing will begin. As ever....Mazza

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