VII
Debt
I do not know how much you owe others
- I think purely in money-terms here –
By my sheets do not even balance in the positive.
So, it is a notion with long-term relish and intense relief
To imagine the state of being out of debt
Including to be unencumbered.
All the confused stuff of symbolic debt
Fear of castration and subtle musing on circumcision
Come close to nonsense
reminding one to untamed “skindapsos” not well-behaved aporia.
Alternatively, the concept of original sin gives sense
The tablet of history displays the truth
If any dish ever incorporated
The freshness and succulence
Of this phantasm:
Man is evil.
Homo homini lupus est.
The most terrible is the fact
That this evil is unnecessary in the light of evolution
There simply is no functionalism
Killing was never demanded by any reason
Among fiends nor foes
Freedom just origins in PIE *prijos "dear, beloved"
which in Germanic and Celtic comprised "friend"
it is conjectured to have related
to the free members of one's clan
perhaps as opposed to slaves
who knows?
Freedom is cultured
Contemplative, even when done in common,
But why kill the stranger
There are just small communities
Becoming gruesome as they grew into nations
But what is a nation but a community among friends?
Why prove friendship’s worth by creating the class of excluded
The “antípalos”, the “xénos”
The barbarian
Half animal, half thing,
Who with a face
does not belong?
Where is the necessity?
And hence, even not any reason for evil
In our genes and in our souls
It is pure arbitrariness
Genuine capriciousness
In other words
It is the result of choice
Yours and mine.
The Old Testament had this knowledge
In its fables of Cain and infinitely it
Meanders through the texts
The flagellation of repeating what
Everybody knows
The self-tormenting search for a counter-example
Which is not
Or?
After all, He came in the end.
Transfixed and transfigured to the cross
“Stauróno”
And “kremáo” too,
The symbolic sense which Freud preposterously
Called “the murder of the father”
Because he hypnotized himself by this Moses
Who Michelangelo cut out of the marble in the shape of
An overgrown, immature and complacent, though tormented
old narcissist
uniting wantonness and power at their orgasm-peak:
To feel certain of one’s own mission.
The cross, however,
did not become THE symbol
Until the Middle Ages
Before that, it was the fish
His sign in the stars
According to some Western calendars.
I think it was Luther’s greatest achievement
To have phrased this so distinctly
In the Augsburgean Credo
Edited by Melanchthon in 1530
Finished as Confessio Augustana from 1540
- please, remember that Luther was an Augustinian monk –
That God makes himself the debtor of his own guilt
That he uses the old Roman jurisdiction
The right of the creditor to use the body of the debtor
Who cannot pay
As he likes
Impaling himself on the dead wood
Of our miscarried memories
Of unrealized and un-confessed crimes
This blaming himself for our trespasses
Is not an excuse for Genesis
Nor a penance for an abortive plan of evolution
Of civilization and culture
For failing providence
And apparent scandalous lack of caring for the individual
It is a pure gift
A genuine mercy
To hang oneself in the capacity of one’s most dear son
- Or perhaps even to chose this disguise, to fly in this slough -
On the wood of death
To suffer, to die, *-raeq
Not just the king’s duty
To give his slough to another
The “hydos”,
When the moon passes the constellation of Orion
No ritual, no incarnated tradition
But free choice.
This katallagé comprised
Us too
You and me
Feel it
Estimate it truly
Believe it
That it must become true
- there once was ONE friend –
That you are FREE.
However, please, remember
That in a world pervaded by
Gods demanding sacrifice
And ascribed barters’ minds
And petty commodity-dealers’ ways,
The thought of the radically opposite
Even this very figure of thought
As pure ideation or conceptualizing
As mental imagery
Cannot be devised nor figured out
Created or invented
It can only happen
For real.
VIII
Depth
The mountain keeps the secrets of the sea
It was so often said that
The secret is on the surface
This is the secret
That means the ocean is mere surface
Upon surface upwards downwards.
Then the mountains lie
But why should they?
Let man keep the prerogative
Of deception
After all depth is not a concept
No idea, nor projection
It is far more than full belief
It is practice.