If,
finally,
we both have breached the boundaries
of time and space,
and someday meet
where He rejoices to see us play,
in His Garden,
I could caress thy feet
And cover them
with tears.
JD Painter
_____________________________________________
*I've been pretty emotional lately, so maybe it comes out in this sort of clicheish jingle. Call it a Christian rendition of "Candle in the Wind" perhaps.
When I learned of the death of Marylin Chambers a few years ago, it made me feel sad, and I had thoughts that I couldn't articulate. So maybe this poem is just my way of working out those thoughts, as well as feelings.
I reflected on how she was once a child, an adolescent, then an adult and mother, and I take all that into account by making her (and myself) children playing in the Garden, if we ever get there. Children, as I say, before sexuality and adulthood.
Anyway, I fancifully ask if it is not me, and the society that has created and masturbated to her that should in fact be asking Mary Magdalene for forgiveness.
Is she the result of a society, including myself, that has legally done no crime, but nevertheless committed a great sin? Against her and Humanity in general?
How I feel about it, and what my answer is, I never say.
I guess the essence of Christianity is the idea that if one is truly sorry in one's heart, there will be forgiveness and redemption. So only God knows if one or both of us will play in the Garden (that's the "If")
And the lust in my heart, and the society's heart for her, or porn in general may not be forgiven if I am not truly sorry, at the time of my death, for the public sale of her body, and great profit made by some people from that sale (that is the "could")
Maybe I'm thinking about the very emotional (to me at least) scene in Brideshead Revisited when the stubborn Lord Marchmain finally crosses himself, as the Irish Priest predicted. And I do start to worry about the final disposition of my soul now, given the disastrous circumstances my indebted life is in now. I can only look to and hope for another life beyond this one, and for salvation, and freedom from that debt.
BTW, all of this rests on the premise that selling one's body, be it female or male, is actually a sin,
Maybe Oscar Wilde's "The Happy Prince" and "The Selfish Giant" had an influence, because at the end the swallow and the heart of the prince, and the Giant all go to heaven. (There are great vintage and animated renditions of these two tales on youtube.)
And now that I think about it, the Prince was made of gold, and Christ-like, gave his body, with the help of the swallow, to help others. Which is different from selling ones body. I'll have to think about that one some more.
And also, I sometimes have reflected that nowadays, the Selfish Giant would have a lot of liability exposure, and that if he carried a policy of Homeowners Insurance and the company found out about all those kids playing in his yard, they would raise his premium for sure. (But in Heaven that sort of stuff doesn't apply)
But I'm digressing.
Maybe the sobbing of Mendoza above also expresses my remorse and regret after years of indebtedness, and my deep sorrow over that (the debt being another sin committed by society perhaps) and other things I have done during my life. It is important to work out the familial issues or conflicts. For instance, an older man I met once, told me that he felt a great weight lifted after a 35 year High School reunion. At that reunion he was able to discuss with his old classmates (people from his early life that he hadn't sen since then) the scars left by corporal punishment in their old Catholic School. He also happened to be a Psychiatrist (MD). A very mild mannered and nice guy too. Not too street savvy, but I guess that was because he had moved off Long Island quite some time ago.
I'll add more notes as they occur to me.
And I have a great banjo song I made up called Walter Winchell's Funeral that I want to post if I can just get a few quiet spare moments.
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