This King Son of David

Ce Roi fils de David, où le chercherons-nous ?

Le ciel même peut-il réparer les ruines

De cet arbre séché jusque dans ses racines...

7th Age of Reason quote

Xenophon wrote the Cyropedia unquote;

which is not usually requisite reading

for You and Me in Skoolzone

o boy, out the encyclopedia

O boy [oracular exclamation] goes without saying

for alex the grand:

the kidlet’s a daimon,

a natural berserker in battle

an essaim host of renaissant spiritelli

is always bursting in his bosom

and then the rumblings in his belly

sun of Zeus o boi, true belief

in Oratory in a manner of speaking,

useful even to the Pythian Pythoness

usefuller even than her drugs!

Philosophia for Sophistry—Hagia Sophia a

sophisticated lad O so fulla Trust

the faith of the heart

voller Glauben

in the golden vaults of

its launch

qui n’a jamais

[jamais] connu de loi.

Speak we of Amor personified again?

Or of Kyros or Alex ancor?

Neither nor!

We speak of the Synagogue!

We speak of the Temple!

Here the Law is heard and wrought:

This is a House of Sacrifice.

This is a House of Study

[our spartan ways banish such baroqueries].

Thru prayer and practice:

Books of Wisdom

Mysticism

Law

History

line the walls, big bible

here only good honest faith

no pythian here

but yes

THE.ACOUSTICS.IN.THIS.HALL:

house of interpenetration

TEMPLE, HOUSE OF SACRIFICE worship by sacrifice

You bathed the marble dalles with holy Blood,

even now with carbombs and smokesignals

TEMPLE SYNAGOGUE worship by study HOUSE OF STUDY

if there is silence the songs can be heard

if there is silence we can concentrate to read

synagogue HOUSE OF INTERPRETATION

The Acoustics in this Hall: hermetic—

here we compile and interpret,

the personnel are as sanctified as studious.

An Oratorio based in kings

[Word] and more [words]!

Either or! KYROPAIDYA! Pagans!

[those barbaroi and their perversions]

stories upon stories: the logoi of a Scriptor

piled in sedimentary layers of redbrown cliffside

long before the timeline of king David

[scripted] in the Kyropaedia, o paedo, boy

meets [boy] relative for a juvenile pair of

kissing cousins crinkle the papyrus

Kyros if now Cyrus the Younger the

Elder (said the Great) the First the Second or the

Third maybe Fourth

problematics of renaming

So Johnathan meets David heartstrings struck

spiritually

unlikely hero printed all over his

forehead and his handy slingshot at least

Inquire thou whose son the stripling is: there

remaineth yet the youngest, and, behold,

he keepeth the sheep so nice and cozy

from the faint bleeting of his premier

bucolic, hearing the righteous call

carrying battlespoils ruddy and fair

of a once great Man-o'-War of Mycenae

no match in the end for the fair shepherd boy

I am the son of thy servant Jesse

tree of Jesse arboreal

we have the deep roots

in the stained glass

of a dark unstable pedigree

the Bethlehemite,

a fairly sophisticated

lad weaned of xenophobia in a

cosmopolitan garden atmosphere

at least according to xenophonic exegesis

of the torah, and beyond

And it came to Passion,

when the evil Geist from God would glut upon Saul,

and masterly played upon his mindspaces,

that David took an harp, and played it with his hand:

so Saul was refreshed, and soon was well,

when playing offset playing

and the wicked Geist gave up.

o boi say OM

let the woe go

give up the ghost

now this new protégé

along with the son of the king

wandering supping on

puerile eye contact

truly felt the pulse of the infinite

as ritual

whoa beyond woe

o my god

lordly prolific, Shaper

your measure, O Measurer

let the woe go

and the warm get-togethers

of so many live families

tribes changing [configuration]

which is the body of the beast of the living deity

offenders exiles outcasts nostalgia for the old tides

forever gotten and, now moving on

the people,

the incidence (-ts)

lordly leveling,

the cutterz sweord

the decapitation of generations

but new goodtimes

must crop in exile

OMG

other places going

lovers progress, pilgrimatic

enamored

an amor at once sapphic and sodomite

subdued subliminate

iconoclasm of the rose

maybe ungranted, only cerebral

in old provincial verses

still pulsing vaguely figuring

[departed from him] Let the wo go

it was fate and it was chance

so it went that when the

in those days

now he was ruddied, and withal

of a beautiful visage [even fair of eyes]

and good to look at

Johnathan unlikely heartstruck vis-à-vis

the fair eyed youth when he tried on armor

manly helm too big for his head and frame

I know thy pride, and the naughtiness of

thine heart; for thou art come down that thou

mightest see the battle the comely youth

first set of manly arms and helm too big

for his head and for his frame, paradise

in aim as is often with unlikely heroes

thou art not able to go against this

Philistine to fight with him: for thou art

but a youth, and he a man of war from

his youth so whose son art thou, geong guma?

As thy soul liveth, O king, I cannot tell:

a soft blooming peasecod no match in arms

And when the Philistine looked about,

and saw David, he disdained him;

for he was a youth, and ruddy,

and of a fair countenance

unfit to match him in battle.

But who is this uncircumcised Philistine,

Giant tho he may be,

that he should defy

the armies of the living God,

the body of the beast?

anyway it came to pass after

a heartfelt talk that his soul was knit with jonathan’s

and they made a pact for living souls loved as own

that robe garment bow even sword and down to his

underclothes stript

but Saul was cankered and was wroth

and how he eyed the boy from that day on and forth

his evil eye he clutched his javelin in his fist

the slip of such a sweaty palm; and david played

with his hand, just like usual; the wicked ghost

from god was roaming the dark temple of his mind

and Saul was afraid of David, because

the LORD was with him, and was departed from him

so Saul he cast the spear and David ran away

[escaped through the window]

like whoa lemme go

[again]

even to the wall with it.

And David avoided out of his presence

twice.

[again]

Jonathan again no match for the Mystic he sees:

this peasecod not yet grown into a squash

Observe him there in the court of Saul

twanging harpstrings psalming voice entonement

Righteous songs of peace and love or belliquous

canticles of blood and warful woe threat

and atonement

Observe this baroque portrayal

set anachronistically in halls of porphyry

spoglia, crouched at the feet of his lord feeling imperiled

and endangerd he entones a newly broken voice

his soft lowly youthful shape

huddled in the shadow of the throne

like water in the low parts

ofa valley

goatling kid, weeping wall of grace, a wail

[fire]

a rixling battle of words, oh boy

singer’s shapeshifting

fingers plectring

Jonathan listend eavesdropt teardrip jerkt movd his tendons

soothd his brain, spirit loose he listened expansive ghost

those graceful fingers plectring

that goatling voice resounding

breaking his youth

and from Saul the evil spirit again departing

always to return

tender songs of tender boy

the Canso had a certain ritualistic power

finding favor in the eye of his lord eternal temporal

the flavor of the expensive incense

ensconcing the Veiled Royal

[I know my chanting style is very baroque]

my feelings are indeed intense sire

but my poetry is more ardent even

ardent my fingers on the strings

do you hear the tone of steel

they hurt my lord

see, sometimes they bleed even

do you hear the bleeding

my lord i feel my body

as my voice feels

the wrath of

the Lord