Planted Black Prose

  GOOD ANCESTOR These lips are theirs, They tell me live.  This strong black nose,  Powerful, massive. This angled jaw, Cuts like knife.  If no you,  For me no life.  I wish I could,  Just see your face.  Offer thanks  For this their race.  I wonder what their word would be,  Could their eyes today see me? To aft or bow would they go? And perish in that sea below?  Or would their seed be cause enough,  for peace in a Jesus from Lübek?  The carrion call of treacherous ocean Or future cries of offsprings’ devotion?  These the broken ones,  Baptized in blood,  Are good ancestors Watching above. by: Planted Black Prose

Shut up, quiet you fool! You’re losing cool.  Will not be quiet, must riot!  😡   😠  mad as, fuming that the veil gets (sweeping statement) all this attention for drawing attention to erstwhile dimensions of OUR collective pain (jealous?). They really like it, don’t they? Its the pits. I’m sad, but I guess its true, and, being true now what to do? Continue doing what has been done, two hundred times two plus one (guilt, the guilt of doing nothing)? Willed to our descendants, your continued coronation? What can veils speak of runaway brides’ frustrations? Rambling rambling flows their words, tumbling tumbling into verbs. (scuffs) The irony of shining light on cruel tales of one’s own might. The fabled wolf of storybooks came to life and overtook the ill-begotten silent lamb, a bumbling pirate of penzance. Oh the guilt of being roped in, lapping up this cup (of sin). From platformed tables fell the crumbs and like a fool, I ate it up (the sin within). I am implicated. Oh calamity! I can

Photo by  Raphael Lovaski  on  Unsplash Much work was completed in theological circles propelled by “third wave feminists” in the mid-late 1990’s around gender, women's roles, and dominant power structures at  work  in  defining and limiting the aforementioned.   Christian sects however have either been too slow to adopt the findings or have been altogether unaware of these findings and are therefore falling far behind the shifting  zeitgeist .  For Christians, the Bible is saturated with images of God as a male warrior fighting against the armies of evil both in the cosmos and on earth. One  is hard-pressed to locate the divine in an ontologically feminine figure in Judeo-Christianity.  The notions of divine identity within many branches of Protestantism is overwhelmingly static in its androcentricity. The customs, rituals and traditions passed on through the centuries have lauded and idealized the supreme being as wholly masculine in implicit and more alarmingly explicit ways. Th