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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 10 of 10. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Atticus on November 19, 2005, at 11:14:20
Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish
Whispered
Psalms to me last night,
Painted visions forged
In Heaven and Hell’s inspired fires
And fed them
Drip by electronic drip
Into my parched and red-rimmed eyes
From St. Peter’s pearly satellite
As it rode upon God’s exhalations,
A tinsel-tressed aluminum
Christmas tree, a digital angel
Boasting a thousand million pixel eyes
As it shimmered in sun’s rays
Amid the blacker-than-black emptiness
That awaits
Just beyond Earth’s moist sweet heat.Plasma flat-screen images
Twirled
Like convulsing tidal patterns,
Like spiny oceans of
Phantom crucifixion nails
Attempting to hold
Truth still
Long enough that it might
Be perceived,
But as always,
Failing
To affix turbulent waters,
To hammer
Slippery and vicious carnivorous waves
To a seabed of consciousness,
To the unsettled silt of
Purest thought.And yet Mother Dish
Grasped at circuit-board ghosts
So that I might better hear
The shrieks, the icy wails
Of the bereft in Himalayan villages
Where Atlas shrugged
And split the world’s skin
As if it were no more
Than that of an overripe peach.
So that I might better see
Expanding blossoms of ripening fire
Flay families in Baghdad
With their scorching petals.So that I might better grasp
The trippy apocalyptic hymns
That Our Lady of Sony
Had couched
In every fifty-fourth word
That slid from the lips
Of Larry King on a trail
Of mucous and saliva,
And in every sixth word
Spoken by Paris Hilton
(As she knows only seven words
In total,
Including her own name).In the moments between moments,
When all is known
And then forgotten,
I understood what I must do,
And set out
As a pilgrim
Down windswept squares
Of concrete prairie
To the fluorescent,
Tumescent, transcendent
Grand Union on East 86th Street,
Where I purchased a bag
Of Cool Ranch Doritos,
Queued at the checkout line
With a host of angels
Wearing a coating
Of orange dust upon
Their otherwise immaculate
White wings.And of course Mother Dish
Was right
To dispatch me on this mission,
As the addition of the chips,
Of the crackling communion wafers,
Made the viewing of Armageddon
That much more pleasurable.
Posted by sal0805 on November 19, 2005, at 15:23:26
In reply to Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish, posted by Atticus on November 19, 2005, at 11:14:20
Oh dear Atticus. I wish I could understand this! As always, I find your writing so beautiful, and so lyrical, but this is one poem that hits above my realm of understanding.
As a rule, I do not usually read anything that refers to God or religion. I have some very serious issues in this regard, however I am so drawn to your writing and so I would like to say that I enjoyed this poem very much. Very much indeed. Even if I did not understand it all that well.
Atticus - referring to your above post to me - I do not want to lose the honor of reading your poetry!!
Sabrina
Posted by Atticus on November 21, 2005, at 14:53:08
In reply to Re: Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish » Atticus, posted by sal0805 on November 19, 2005, at 15:23:26
Well, actually, this poem isn't about religion at all -- it's about electronic media, and I use religious metaphors to describe how we tend to worship at television's altar. The "dish" in the title is a satellite dish, and I'm drawing a snarky parallel between religious visions associated with "appearances" by the Virgin Mary and images broadcast on the telly. I suppose what it amounts to is a description of media consumption as the world's dominant "religion" and consumerism as the inevitable result -- consumerism that becomes in many peoples' minds the ultimate transcendent experience. Make sense? Ta. Atticus
Posted by sal0805 on November 21, 2005, at 16:37:26
In reply to Re: Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish » sal0805, posted by Atticus on November 21, 2005, at 14:53:08
Atticus - I shall re-read your posr - when I m sober , proper, and respond.
Sigh
Sabrina
Posted by sal0805 on November 22, 2005, at 11:23:59
In reply to Re: Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish » sal0805, posted by Atticus on November 21, 2005, at 14:53:08
Hi Atticus.
Thank you for explaining. It does make sense now and I re-read the poem with this better understanding.
(Sheepish sorry about previous post)
Sabrina
Posted by Atticus on November 22, 2005, at 14:16:39
In reply to Re: Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish » Atticus, posted by sal0805 on November 22, 2005, at 11:23:59
No worries, luv. Atticus
Posted by muffled on November 22, 2005, at 16:16:08
In reply to Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish, posted by Atticus on November 19, 2005, at 11:14:20
Posted by Atticus on November 23, 2005, at 8:19:07
In reply to OMG...Love it!!!!! (nm) » Atticus, posted by muffled on November 22, 2005, at 16:16:08
Many thanks. Atticus
Posted by sal0805 on November 23, 2005, at 16:10:47
In reply to Re: Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish » sal0805, posted by Atticus on November 22, 2005, at 14:16:39
> No worries, luv. Atticus
This is EXACTLY what my husband chooses to say to me after a night of the 'heavies', or after a conversation that I, invariably do not remember the next day.
Meaning ....... Atticus, that you brought the biggest smile to my face.
Thank you - dear friend!!
I was hurting so bad tonight - and you just helped me chuck the hurt into the trash - where it belongs.
Bless you!!
Sabrina
Posted by Atticus on November 25, 2005, at 13:31:06
In reply to Re: Sweet Holy Mary Mother Dish » Atticus, posted by sal0805 on November 23, 2005, at 16:10:47
That really makes me feel good. Thanks so much for letting me know that. Ta and hugs. Atticus
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