Mary Mary Quite Contrary How Does Your Spiral Groove~

She took her golden duties

spun them through the sun

her appetite like knives

embedded warm in rum

and realms that spoke of birthright

she gathered up her skirts

flew the edges of the minstrels

playing music 'round his birth

 

She hurried through the strands

of ropes bound ‘round his wrists

took the angel's face

between her palms

for that one kiss

that moved the wings above her brow

as he bent in for her lips

stretched her nakedness wide open

against the shuttered grooves of bliss

 

She unwound the rug's brocade

in the darkness

by the spires

of a wooden boat

that would take her 'cross the miles

bells against the branches

of trees that wept their music

in between her apple breasts

which the man found quite amusing

so that he placed the whip

and testament of blood

to the side upon the mount

for the dark waist of her love

sat back slowly

like a dream

into her ankle bells

and mind

her rhythms 

frankincense allusions

to the thorn in the world's side

 

She hurried through the power

to be born against his skin

a witness to the strife

a mother to his sins

she invented like a vision

curled into their stones

her body like a wire

to distill the violence of their tones

as they drank the miracles

like nectar

ate the breads out of her skirts

beating unbuilt temples

into her heartbeat

and the dirt

around her bloody victory

she struggled not at all

as they washed her in the river

and anointed her with balms

 

Mar Mary quite contrary

married to the joy

of sanctioned roses 'cross his brow

brutal thorns in rows

nostrils flaring

as she knelt

deep into his blood

wiping every happenstance

off his feet

with tears of love

as they swept down for her wounds

with scorn

moving on their lips

tore her roots out of the garden

with the son against her hips

as the skye unsealed a river

and draped her all in white

spun her golden hair

into braids of fragrant light

 

Mary Mary Magdalena

do they devour you for  grace

as they drape themselves

in bruises

and self righteous tales of hate

even as you blaze

out of golden strands of Time

off a cross of honeycombs

where you were caught

a rose red bride

and swim now

sweet as amber

in a slender

gold brocade

on a chain around her neck

this girl who loves likes rage

veiled in gossamer

and spider spun 

kisses of allure

her touch

the music of a violin

her pilgrimage in tune

with the forests and the rivers

her scent like smoke and pine

this girl who carries in her spirals

touch of Mary and the Christ

 

 

 

copyright:2009vssmd/pa. inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

 

 

 

 

excerpt from . . . .

 

 

 

Author's Note

~in forbidden gospels it is postulated that Mary Magdalene became the bride of the Christ and bore his children~ which progeny may walk this day the earth with reflective souls made of crystal~ what if . . . . =)~

Reviews

[Angela]

The underlying theme seems to be that she's bound by many temptations. She gives into the feelings, in a way that is unexpected, yet wanted at the same time. I see her struggles in the writing. But, in the end, she gives what wanted to all along. The writing is crisp, clever and refreshing.

[Dani]

"and swim now
sweet as amber
in a slender
gold brocade
on a chain around her neck"

Simply amazing. This was such a pleasure to read, and the flow of wonderful diction was brilliant. Lovely write :)

[Matthew Kult]

It is also said she fled and went to France to raise their children. I believe it was France, but don't quote me. And I am not sure about being a redhead, but I am sure she did have dark hair. Due to the area, I am taking an educated guess on that.

A great write and read as always, it's a good feeling to see others think in the same light as you especially when it comes to off religious perspectives, although who really knows what is right and wrong, guess we will find out on that last day.

[Rikkevi Rue]

simply breathtaking! Your ever so artful winding of analogous simile and the interplay between the sacred and quest for truth wrings many fine drops of the sweet wine of expression out of the potentialities of the matter. And it is endearing that you express your own spirituality therein. This is the finest work I have seen here yet. I bow to your skill!

[Geralyn Miller]

How intense and truly beautiful. A thought of an often scorned woman (and what of the men, no scorn for them?)
Few people know that what is presently called "The Bible" wasn't codified, or defined until the mid 1100's. Prior to that it was ever changing, each scribe put into the bible whichever books and gospels his patron prefered. Only four of thirteen existing gospels were included at the time it was codified, the only book included in the new testament was thye apocalypse, or revealations. A number of books were deleted from possiblities prior to that because they refered to reincarnation and the pope's mistress was very vain and did not want to think she could return as someone ugly. (Don't panic, celibacy for Catholic priests is a recent thing>)

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[Shellie]

This was awesome, some of the phrases i shook my head in wonder at how you even came up with them all. Fabulous writing. Genius.

[JellyCone]

Wow, so beautiful. I can't believe someone was able to transform such imagery and emotions into words.

[Crowley]

Bradley Christ.....I like it. I would wash his feet for a beer and some nachos...lol. This was a creative take on the subject matter leading my mind to wander in the fields of the past and all of the what if's and what for's. Not sure if knowing what is real and true would be as wonderful as contemplating on what might have been. You are truly a creative creature.....and so prolific it boggles my mind.

[Cafe Reader]

Beautiful.

[Jeff Loquist]

what if, indeed. this reads like a dream and so thought-provoking. i've danced with the ideas myself and you have layed them out in such beautiful verse here