We are bombarded on a daily basis, through the news, social media and in our daily lives, of the hate that exists in the world. We are reminded constantly of the divisions that exist in society, whether they be racial, religious, socio-economic or ethnic in origin. It would be easy to conclude from all that we see and hear, that love has no place in this world. Yet, if one takes the time to step out of the ordinary chaos of human existence and just be still, one may perceive that there is an underlying current of love that holds the world together and that this love is what sustains life itself. It was this perception that inspired me to write the following poem comparing love to the ocean:
True love is like the ocean. It is teeming with life, providing sustenance to all who live within its all-encompassing embrace. Its depths are unplumbable; its vastness unending. It magnifies the beauty and intensity of the light of day. It provides cover to all those who seek its protection in the dark of night.
It grows in strength and intensity to meet the onslaught of the storm. Yet it is peaceful and serene in fair weather. Its power cannot be stopped, nor contained. Its currents can move any object, and its persistence can reduce the largest mountain to a pile of sand. Though its waters appear to advance and recede with the tides, its volume and depth remain unchanged.
The ocean is the womb of the earth, from which all life is born and to which all life will return at death, to be reborn again in its eternal cycle, cleansing all who are baptized by its waters. As the ocean is the life’s blood of the earth, so is love the life’s blood of the cosmos.
Been carrying around some stones. Waiting for the right time to hurl them. Been practicing my throw. Workin on my aim. Honing my skill.
Yep, got me some rocks. None too big. Some kinda small. But they’re git’n kinda heavy. Some of ’em are pretty. Others mostly plain. They got names. Yep, every single one.
Gonna throw ’em real soon. Bout threw a couple today. Got that kill-shot down. Know right where to aim. Gittin bout ready. Even picked up a few more. This time I’m really gonna do it.
Yep, heard the news today. Them goddam Christians. Held a church council in Nashville. Country’s going to hell they said. Those trannies and homos bout to bring God’s judgment down on the whole country. May end the whole world if something’s not done.
Yep, those goddamn Christians brought in all the big names: James Dobson, John Piper, J.I. Packer, Richard Land, Albert Mohler, R.C. Sproul, John MacArthur, Tony Perkins….
A Council of Augustines, Jeromes and Calvins. Kinda like the Council of Nicea, I reckon. Modern day martyrs. Gonna make Christamericandom great again.
Goddamned Christians. Drafted the next big creed in Christendom.* I can’t keep track of all this shit. Why is gittin to heaven gotta be so goddamned complicated? Gonna grab a couple stones for that hassle. Now what I gotta believe?
Okay, just found it. Goddamn. Wonder who’s gonna pay for reprinting all those hymnals and prayer books to include the new revised creed. Fuck, are they gonna raise the tithe to fifteen percent? Gonna grab another stone for each dollar they raise my tithe.
Only tax those bastards aren’t in favor of cutting. God needs lots of well-heeled staff living in mansions, jetting all over the world to appear on tv and radio, pray over the President, and attend important conferences and shit to protect white Evangelicals now that they’re a persecuted minority and all.
Christianity’s damn near illegal nowadays in ‘Merica. Guess they’re scared the law’s gonna make em serve faggots and trannies just like it forced em to serve the coloreds….
Ah, here’s the Revised Creed:
I believe in God, the Father Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth and of all white, straight, cisgender people and especially God’s elect, the evangelical conservatives who were predestined before the foundation of the world as God’s chosen people to bring salvation to the poor, brown, pagan peoples of the world.
I believe in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord;
who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, dead, and buried;
the third day he rose from the dead;
he ascended into heaven,
and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead, and most especially faggots, trannies, and Muslims.
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the holy white, evangelical church;
The communion of white, middle class saints;
The forgiveness of sins, except being queer or liberal;
the resurrection of the body;
and the life everlasting of all conservative Republicans .
Amen
Oh, fuck! I’m a faggot. And a homo and queer, too I think… Been one since at least 5. Ever since I could ride the school bus. Didn’t even know what it meant then. Just knew it must be a terrible thing and that I was one.
Meant I walked a certain way, talked a certain way, played sports a certain way, liked birds, butterflies and flowers, was kinda pretty and that I had big, beautiful doe eyes.
I thought I just got those eyes from my grandma’s side of the family–those Pursiful eyes. They all had em. Only mine made me a faggot, prolly because mine came with beautiful long eyelashes. The ladies at the beauty salon and the orthodontist always said the girls were all gonna be after me because of those beautiful eyelashes. That was bullshit. Need a couple stones for that whopper.
Church WAS the only place I had. Being a faggot and all. And I was the most terrible kind because I was a red-headed, Ronald McDonald, pussy, queer faggot. Meant people were supposed to harass me constantly, hit me, pull my hair, spread nasty rumors about me, knock me down on the playground, and push me while trying to take a piss.
I hated getting piss on my shoes… Gonna grab a dozen big stones for that. Yep, church was the only safe place I had besides home. People couldn’t hurt me there. Jesus said you had to love everybody in church, even no good, nasty sinners. My Sunday School teacher said so.
We got to sing in church, too. Only place I could sing my heart out without getting teased or beat up, other than when I sang along with the Sandi Patti cassettes in the car. Actually, Sandi Patti sang along with me. Wish my parents would have told me about Whitney Houston. Could have used a challenge. That omission from my childhood merits a few stones.
In church we also got to sing that song that said Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Sunday School teacher said if I said the magic “ask Jesus in your heart prayer” Jesus had to love me and let me go to heaven even though I was a terrible piece of dirt that deserved to die and go to hell.
Liars! Thats 10 more stones. They don’t tell you about the exceptions until you get older. When I could read, I looked up faggot in the dictionary: noun; a bundle of sticks used as fuel for a fire; a pejorative used to describe homosexual men alluding to the historic practice of burning homosexuals at the stake.
Had to look up a few more words and then went to the World Book Encyclopedia and read a few articles. But I got the point. Realized that even though the church was forced to stop burning faggots, the faggots were still gonna burn. That was standard Christian teaching. Didn’t matter what brand of Christian you were. There went my only safe place.
Fucking asshole Christians. Picked up some more stones. These are for their stained glass windows. Gonna hurl these ones right at that pretty girl face of their white Jesus monster. Gonna grab some more stones for his pretty, long, brunette hair and his flowing red and white dress, too. Fucking pussy faggot. His naked ass got nailed to a cross right after he got kissed by that boy.
I thought church was safe because you couldn’t say faggot in church. Not sure why now since those fuckers invented the word. Sticks and stones, my fucking ass. Calling us homosexuals or same-sex-attracted only sounded a lil nicer than faggot now. Seems everyone that I knew and loved wanted me to burn in hell. Even my own fucking family. Didn’t know what to do now, but started grabbing more stones by the bucketful. I loved rocks.
All everyone in church wanted to talk about was those goddamned homosexuals. Homosexuals can’t go to heaven, can’t preach, shouldn’t be allowed around children, were irredeemable perverts, were destroying the country, should be unemployed unless they stay in the closet. Those homosexuals were trying to destroy the church, too.
Used to cry myself to sleep every night praying that Jesus would come back that night or that I’d wake up dead so I didn’t have to go to school in the morning. Did that for years. Every fucking, goddamn night during the school year. More stones for that.
Now how was I gonna survive the next day and the day after that. I had nothing left to pray for. After hell on earth, all I had to look forward to was the real hell. “Fuck you asshole Jesus and git your faggot-hating ass the hell outta my heart. Not today bitch.” Grabbed a fucking wheelbarrow of stones.
Well at least not everyone knew that I wanted to marry boys. Just the kids at school did. My church and family didn’t know. Alright, we got this. Angry white Jesus asshole God, ignore that last prayer or maybe the last ten. Promise I didn’t mean it, was just scared. You can get back in my heart now. We gonna pray the gay away.
Full scholarship to evangelical college, triple major including one in religion, top of my class, 3/4 scholarship to ultra traditional Catholic law school, married a beautiful blond woman from an upper middle class, Republican family, awarded a prestigious judicial clerkship, moved to New York, landed a job at a good law firm in one of the wealthiest counties in America, had a baby, bought a house, elder in my church, all by the age of 33 ….
Not bad for a lower middle class, country bumpkin, red-headed, Ronald McDonald, pussy, queer faggot. I showed those goddamned assholes. Come pick on me now. Losers. More stones.
Well that fucking lie turned out well. Goddamned fucking asshole Jesus freaks. Left me mentally ill, bitter, angry, completely alone in the world, unloved, divorced, with my daughter living 800 miles away. Just you wait till you see all the stones I got now. Goddamned Christians.
You better hope your little magic “ask Jesus in your heart prayer” gets you outta hell because ain’t nothing gonna protect you from my stones. Been practicing my throw now for a while. Don’t throw like a pussy no more. Sure don’t. I’m fucking tough as hell and in the best shape of my life.
Why they gotta go write a whole new goddamned Nashville creed for the church? Not only do I gotta go to hell, now I gotta recite this new ode to my damnation in church on Sunday? I just wanna sit up front in a fancy robe and sing my heart out with all the other gussied up faggots on the down-low.
Those dumbass Christians. I thought this Nashville screed was something new. Acting like this was news and monopolizing my social media with all these posts. Gonna grab a whole bucket of stones for that nasty trick. Ain’t scared of your white asshole Jesus god either. What’s he gonna do, damn me? Already damned.
Fuck that. On judgment day he’s gonna render an account to me. I’ve already been punished for all my sins and mostly for a bunch of sins I didn’t commit. I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody while grabbing them by the pussy, and by anyone’s scales of justice you would still owe an accounting to me. Got my stones ready. Been saving em up. Yep, just about ready to start throwing them now. They all got names, too.
Was gonna start throwing my stones today. Had them all ready. But I heard this voice. Kinda recognized it. Told me to go to the sea. Told me I should take my stones with me. Gonna go fishing for men, he said. That got my attention. Sounded good to me. One of my favorite pastimes.
I knew exactly where to go. Fire Island has the best beach for catching men. Gathered up my stones and caught the next train. Rode the ferry over and got a good spot on the beach. I was ready.
Wonder what I’m gonna do with my stones here. No one here deserved any of these stones. The people on this beach were all carrying their own stones. Many of them had more than I did. Some looked so heavy. I wasn’t sure how they carried them. But then I saw their abs and knew. Damn girl!
As I laid there on that beach watching gorgeous men and queens strut by, I heard that same familiar voice begin to sing to me: “wade in the water, wade in the water children, wade in the water, God’s gonna trouble the water. See that host all dressed in white…”
And I did, too. Saw that host hovering right over the water. I knew that voice. Then another song: “take me to the water, take me to the water, take me to the water to be baptized;”
Yes, I knew that voice. I heard that voice as a little boy crying myself to sleep every night. I began to sing with it: “none but the righteous, none but the righteous, none but the righteous, shall see God.”
I looked up, tears streaming down my face. I saw his face shining as the sun, garments white as light. No one ever told me Jesus was black or damn near it. “You can drop your stones here,” he said.
“These waters will wash them away,” I objected. I was entitled to those stones. I earned the right to throw them. He said, “lay them down here. These stones have you weary and heavy laden. Take my yoke. It is easy and my burden is light.”**
**Matthew 11: 25-30
But the rules, I objected. I’m a… “Fuck the rules,” he said. “Do you see Moses here? We have a party to get to. The hour is late and we got guests to invite.” I dropped some stones and watched the sea wash them away. “What party?”
“A wedding party my papi is throwing for me; I’m gonna gay marry all the guests who come,” he said. “But I wasn’t invited,” I responded. “Isn’t that party for you and those goddamned Christians to celebrate after I get tossed into the lake of fire?”
“Oh them,” he started laughing, “Mene, mene, tekel, parsin”. Wtf? “Look it up in the Book of Daniel” he said.***
***Daniel 5: 1-30
“I kept sending my servants out to invite them,” he continued. “They said they were coming, but they got too busy building empires. The hour had nearly arrived, and it was clear they didn’t want to come. They burned at the stake the last set of servants I sent out with the invites. Pissed papi off real good. They’re fucked now. Papi told me to go out into the streets, invite as many people as would come, from any race, nationality or religion, even faggots, trannies, dykes, bums, druggies, single moms, prostitutes, welfare queens, alcoholics, illegal immigrants, and toothless rednecks, anyone I could find whose presence would offend those goddamned Christians.”
“But there’s a catch, you gotta dress like you’re going out to your favorite gay club,” he said. He looked down at my hot little speedo. “Oh, you’ll be fine, we just gotta have a way to tell if any of those goddamned Christians try to sneak in. They won’t be dressed right for this kinda party. That way they’ll be spotted right away and my servants can throw em out before they do any more harm.”****
****Matthew 22: 1-14
“Hurry now,” he said. “This party is gonna be lit. Drop the rest of those stones. Can’t take none of them with you. This world is cruel enough, you don’t gotta be. No stones in this party, just stoners,” he said with a smile.
So I dropped the rest of my stones, and watched the waters wash them away…
Cairns of Stone 