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 The Fourth Order of Francis and Clare |
Poetry Archive
The Return of Christ
And it came to pass in the latter days
Christ returned walking the south bronx
and along the bowery
dining on wine with the
great american homeless
heroes.
And he ate with whores from the east side
tenements
slept on park benches
made daily visits to AIDS wards
and took up with a band of 12 renegades found
under the tracks at Grand Central Station.
Christ returned and spoke in parables
unto the masses in front of a midtown
manhattan mcdonalds' but the most highly
paid economists from MOBIL OIL
ITT
and USX
could not seem to grasp the message.
Christ returned and led a parade of children
barefoot up broadway to central park
where he transformed street gangs into a massive
flock of love revolutionaries.
BUT THE PRESS headlined his miracles
a mockery unto god.
And it came to pass in organized churches
that priests and ministers stood before altars
and plotted his death.
And one of the disciples who had grown eager
with ambition and compromise
sold Christ out for thirty thousand shares
of stock in Rockwell International
and a lifetime subscription to the
Wall Street Journal.
And in a procession they led Christ
to the thirty third floor of the Chrysler building
and dropped him down an elevator shaft.
Neatly over with.
Or so they Thought.
Copyright © 2003 Joe Matvey
About the Author
Joe Matvey has a Ph.D. in Sociology from the University of Pittsburgh. He focused his studies on the problem of poverty in the Appalachian Region, and taught for several years. Joe now runs a collectibles business and sells various collectibles on ebay.
Francis Speaks of the Fourth Order
I went mad with the ravings of priests.
They were insane like fear is insane,
like war is insane, like mine is insane.
Terrified and crazy with rules they tried
to govern me, what to read, where to shit,
how to pray. They were afraid of starving.
I was afraid of eating anything but the spirit.
Watch out for what tries to govern you,
and discover a great secret.
When God turns on his godself,
the dance is all yours. It is yours
if you know who you really are.
Take off your uniform
and the mind that goes with it.
Don't chain yourself to demons
and angels, the sinister them
and the holy you. The sinister
dangerous you and the them,
the crazy you and the sane you.
Don't frighten yourself
with what you think you are,
with what you think you are not,
with what your calling tells you to do.
There is a fourth way,
not ruled by fear or shame,
an inner passage through a secret cave,
an outer dance to break through this useless trance
into the freedom of one who has no name.
Drop even the color of your skin,
even the mine of your pain.
Initiation is a passage.
You do not stay in the moment of terror
for one hundred and fifty years.
In the world you are called to
there are no victims,
only fools of many tribes, madmen,
clowns and wandering mystics.
Copyright 2000 Barbara Flaherty
About the author
Barbara Flaherty is a cofounding companion of the Fourth Order.