The Sound of My Laughter
O Israel O Israel
for a piece of dust
Thou hast forsaken me
O where are my passionate paracletes
& prophets
Have you no place for the Gospel of exiled Thomas
for Karl Marx & his Communist Manifesto
for Freud & his Interpretation of Dreams
for Einstein & his Theory of Relativity
for Buber's I & Thou
These extenders of your nomad histories
0 round out the New Testament with these curiosity probers
pushing into your Unknowns & mine
for our sake!
O Israel
have you measured me
O Israel
have you measured me
by what Kosher Dictation
breeding Electives
Do you think the Jews have created me
in their Image
behaving to half of my Nature merely
O Israel
you have become a nation amongst nations
a white and blue clay
Do you infiltrate foreign voices hoping to bolster a dying
faith
it is too late to triumph by propagation
O Israel
Temples are of the Spirit only!
Where are your
devout penetraters
if you do not build with the immaculate blocks of Love
you waylway me
desecrate
& sell me for disrupting Doctrines
Am I a clink
for barterings
Have you already forgotten special tribes attract
a special treatment
The mighty Clairvoyant are
without weapons, without animosities, without lucre
how many meanderings to my meta-positions!
Oh 6000 year Jews
you are almost a mummerarium for bookworms & sterile scholars
you have lost track of my Name
as a regenerating evolution
O minglers & separators
folly realists
foreswear the anxieties of your Hubris
or crack up with rhumatism
do not my hopping ecstatics have a lesson for you
Others have joined the dead sands
& far older than you
save face or creed & you lose it
O Israel
if the whole earth is not your home
a crumb of it
is your understanding of the Lord
& a lackey to Infidels
0 Israel
the 2 Messiahs are before you
Is it because your Imagination a servant of the letter
You haggle at the Breakthru
with your racket
commandments
you lay troubled trips upon your ascendants
you rob the Child of a chance to sage you
or show a fresh method
a babel of words
a clamor of yakking
a hairshirt of rituals
How many rivers from Abraham
E=mc˛
So you made the desert bloom with Eagle coffers
Big deal
Have not the Chinese shown you
why the Cosmos is female
that the Spirit has no gender
that the Breath of the Lord is Death
0 Israel
Sex & Money & the State
are your charnel Houses
and my solar winds cradle a supernatural Earth
Vincent Ferrini
Vincent Ferrini is a Gloucester, Mass. poet.