ERIC CHAET
Benedict, may your remaining days be relatively painless
with relatively little discomfort---
may your memories be mainly comforting, rather than tormenting---
may those around you be mainly kind, not insane, uncaring, cruel---
as, frequently, in nursing homes
or among family members, impatient to resume
whatever it is they were doing or hoped to do
before you lay the burden of your suffering on them---
you're like Paul of Tarsus
transmitter & distorter of Jesus's life & teachings---
& Jesus, himself, was a transmitter & distorter
of courage, of mercy & righteousness
believing himself no mere human
but half-God, or son of God, Savior, per the prophecies
that SOMEONE would come & get us out of this damn mess
of Romans, Greeks, Pharisees, Sanhedrin
& the cocky fools Isaiah described so well---
parading their so-called successes
in days leading up to slaughters, diasporas, holocausts---
U.S. political party careerists
financiers parlaying slave & opium fortunes
& all they can extract from grocery shoppers
who need fuel for metabolism
& who are hypnotized by advertising---
from renters & mortgage-payers
sour job-drones & those desperate for jobs
who need fuel for heat, foraging, commuting---
you managed a base of devotees bigger than Facebook
almost as many as Chinese or Indians---
dynamically exploding or peaked & already deflating
tho we can't yet see---
according to the dubious statistics of reporters in their 20's
humming foolish pop songs
& those who are older
but whose understanding & methods crystalized
when hired by this or that network or magazine
& their focus shifted to getting & keeping
houses & cars & kids & domestic diplomacy---
the way Jesus's understanding & methods
crystalized in his adolescence, probably
& Paul's likewise---
except he converted suddenly on the road to Damascus
which even now is being fought over
worse than the south side of Chicago, my childhood home
or even the territory & market share
of Mexican dealers in dope & pilgrims---
excuse me, Benedict, I don't want to forget you---
I believe in attending to people before they're obituaries---
then, let the dead bury the dead---
I doubt, but hope this reaches you
I don't have the credentials to be allowed
by paid, scheming, misunderstanding intermediaries
to communicate with important people---
I care for you
tho I'm no Catholic, or even a Christian---
tho no one is more devoted to Jesus's life & teachings
however I believe Jesus was deluded
concerning who he was
which gave him courage he needed
audaciously to intervene without an invitation
to look for trouble
to broadcast, however distortedly, thru Paul & others since---
each was imperfect, some ambitious, some just struggling
not to be murdered before they'd established
that they mattered at least to someone---
life's hard, life's glorious---
the Roman empire was built on conquest & slavery
as was the British empire
especially in Ireland, greater India, & Dixie
& the Chinese opium trade---
& my nation, the USA, is run by financiers
who are the heirs of the British empire financiers
& allies of the remnant British empire financiers
now also allied with similar people
in Hong Kong, Shanghai, Beijing, Mumbai
& all around the world, really
here & there among the harried, ruled re-actors---
the financial oligarchy is the only real democracy
as the lords fighting over medieval Europe
were the only real democracy---
& the popes sometimes fought for their share
& sometimes attempted to temper the violent anarchy---
but only Jesus, if we are to believe what Matthew wrote
attempted to transform the whole thing
all of what humanity was & is doing---
only Jesus & those of us who attempt to use our lives similarly
tho we can't comfort ourselves that we are half-God
or sons or daughters of God, or the prophesied savior
or the one called upon to transmit that one's message
& organize humanity under his aegis---
tho we're nowhere near so audacious---
I don't suppose many will call you brother, Brother Benedict---
to thank you for what you managed to do actually for the good
& have mercy on you
for traveling around in luxury in your funny hat & robe
& your bullet-proof Pope-mobile
while pedaphiles & all kinds of corrupt officials
did their deeds, & got away with it---
you couldn't do much, tho maybe you could have done more
I don't doubt that you were doing the best you knew how---
you had childhood & adolscent dreams & obsessions, too
& were surrounded by people telling you how great you were---
I don't doubt that you're doing the best you know how, now, too---
&, before you die, I hope you find peace to rest in
oh, such moments are so sweet---
some delight & grateful awe---
that your last days don't get all tangled up
in the struggle of cardinals for the palace, big hat, & publicity
they imagine will finally satisfy the terrible hunger
for importance & meaning that never wobbles, once & for all.
 |
| photo by Ramac |
with relatively little discomfort---
may your memories be mainly comforting, rather than tormenting---
may those around you be mainly kind, not insane, uncaring, cruel---
as, frequently, in nursing homes
or among family members, impatient to resume
whatever it is they were doing or hoped to do
before you lay the burden of your suffering on them---
you're like Paul of Tarsus
transmitter & distorter of Jesus's life & teachings---
& Jesus, himself, was a transmitter & distorter
of courage, of mercy & righteousness
believing himself no mere human
but half-God, or son of God, Savior, per the prophecies
that SOMEONE would come & get us out of this damn mess
of Romans, Greeks, Pharisees, Sanhedrin
& the cocky fools Isaiah described so well---
parading their so-called successes
in days leading up to slaughters, diasporas, holocausts---
U.S. political party careerists
financiers parlaying slave & opium fortunes
& all they can extract from grocery shoppers
who need fuel for metabolism
& who are hypnotized by advertising---
from renters & mortgage-payers
sour job-drones & those desperate for jobs
who need fuel for heat, foraging, commuting---
you managed a base of devotees bigger than Facebook
almost as many as Chinese or Indians---
dynamically exploding or peaked & already deflating
tho we can't yet see---
according to the dubious statistics of reporters in their 20's
humming foolish pop songs
& those who are older
but whose understanding & methods crystalized
when hired by this or that network or magazine
& their focus shifted to getting & keeping
houses & cars & kids & domestic diplomacy---
the way Jesus's understanding & methods
crystalized in his adolescence, probably
& Paul's likewise---
except he converted suddenly on the road to Damascus
which even now is being fought over
worse than the south side of Chicago, my childhood home
or even the territory & market share
of Mexican dealers in dope & pilgrims---
excuse me, Benedict, I don't want to forget you---
I believe in attending to people before they're obituaries---
then, let the dead bury the dead---
I doubt, but hope this reaches you
I don't have the credentials to be allowed
by paid, scheming, misunderstanding intermediaries
to communicate with important people---
I care for you
tho I'm no Catholic, or even a Christian---
tho no one is more devoted to Jesus's life & teachings
however I believe Jesus was deluded
concerning who he was
which gave him courage he needed
audaciously to intervene without an invitation
to look for trouble
to broadcast, however distortedly, thru Paul & others since---
each was imperfect, some ambitious, some just struggling
not to be murdered before they'd established
that they mattered at least to someone---
life's hard, life's glorious---
the Roman empire was built on conquest & slavery
as was the British empire
especially in Ireland, greater India, & Dixie
& the Chinese opium trade---
& my nation, the USA, is run by financiers
who are the heirs of the British empire financiers
& allies of the remnant British empire financiers
now also allied with similar people
in Hong Kong, Shanghai, Beijing, Mumbai
& all around the world, really
here & there among the harried, ruled re-actors---
the financial oligarchy is the only real democracy
as the lords fighting over medieval Europe
were the only real democracy---
& the popes sometimes fought for their share
& sometimes attempted to temper the violent anarchy---
but only Jesus, if we are to believe what Matthew wrote
attempted to transform the whole thing
all of what humanity was & is doing---
only Jesus & those of us who attempt to use our lives similarly
tho we can't comfort ourselves that we are half-God
or sons or daughters of God, or the prophesied savior
or the one called upon to transmit that one's message
& organize humanity under his aegis---
tho we're nowhere near so audacious---
I don't suppose many will call you brother, Brother Benedict---
to thank you for what you managed to do actually for the good
& have mercy on you
for traveling around in luxury in your funny hat & robe
& your bullet-proof Pope-mobile
while pedaphiles & all kinds of corrupt officials
did their deeds, & got away with it---
you couldn't do much, tho maybe you could have done more
I don't doubt that you were doing the best you knew how---
you had childhood & adolscent dreams & obsessions, too
& were surrounded by people telling you how great you were---
I don't doubt that you're doing the best you know how, now, too---
&, before you die, I hope you find peace to rest in
oh, such moments are so sweet---
some delight & grateful awe---
that your last days don't get all tangled up
in the struggle of cardinals for the palace, big hat, & publicity
they imagine will finally satisfy the terrible hunger
for importance & meaning that never wobbles, once & for all.
Eric Chaet, The Turnaround Artist, born Chicago, USA, 1945, raised on rough South Side, pre-computer factory, office, & warehouse jobs. Some teaching, some independent self-taught technical consulting. 1974, Old Buzzard of No-Man's Land, poems, Toronto, Canada. 1977, Solid and Sound, vinyl LP of songs, Lee's Summit, Missouri, USA. Mid-80s to mid-90s, silkscreened, hitchhiked, & stapled 1500 cloth posters to utility poles along American highways. 1990, How To Change the World Forever For Better, brief prose philosophy, Greenleaf, Wisconsin, USA; 2nd edition, 1994. 2001, People I Met Hitchhiking On USA Highways, mostly narrative prose, De Pere, Wisconsin, USA. Lives in Wisconsin, industrialized dairy farms & cows, remnant cheese & paper factories & factory hands & outlaw mammals & birds, post-construction boom, reactionary politics & obsolete machinery, a smattering of professionals & millionaires. Poems published, over 50 years in many USA states, plus Brazil, Cuba, Ireland, Scotland, England, Spain, France, Belgium, Netherlands, Sweden, Switzerland, Nepal, India, China, Singapore, Korea, & Taiwan, often in translation.You can contact him at the Leave a Reply box on each page of his website, 100 Peculiarly Useful So-Called Poems, <http://www.ericchaet.wordpress.com>.
Find Chaet's book, People I Met Hitchhiking USA Highways, and read a review written here. See also, There's still a little breath in the old American Revolution, On Job Creation, and Stalin."Like" Dear Dirty America on Facebook
I think this was so beautiful and honest. And look at those a.p.a guidelines so sexy. Still eloquent , the writings of a serene and sincere person.
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