Meat

On Meat and Redemption

Damnable curse oh, that fell upon men
In a garden where only the veggie was in
But the One who redeemed gave delectable beasts
So that this side of Heaven the fallen may feast.

Oh sing of sausage, and ribs, scrumptious fowl
Oh thank you dear schweiner, yon chicken, ye cow
For giving thy flesh that my hunger subsides
And gracing my grill and my tender insides.

I speculate, yes, but this I believe
That had meat not been given ‘cause Adam and Eve
Our Heavenly Father, perfect and great
Would have used other means to put meat on my plate.

Amen.

The Covering…

Gravy. Olio. Hollandaise. Barbeque.
A puddle of nothing, no purpose that’s true
Without underneath it the succulent flesh
Of a beast who was bred, shot, or caught with some mesh.

Now if you’re a purist, and desire no sauce
Have it your way my friend, no carnivorous loss
But consider the covering a paint that is sweet
Now you are the artist, your canvas is meat.

Michelangelo, Leonardo, I mean you no ill
But I favor the artist who works on the grill
Will I be remembered like they for their work?
Perhaps among meat lovers, where ‘ere they may lurk

So open the lid, douse your steak with this nectar
And at least ‘til the morning, your works are remembered.

The Herbivore’s Folly.

Oh weaker brother, I pity him so
For the pleasure of the pork chops that he’ll never know
I bitterly weep for that thin wretched man,
Whose naught ‘ere partaken of Mum’s Christmas ham

My tears, they are torn ‘tween remorse and such glee
For I desire to bless him, then again… more for me.
If he think it ignoble and abstain from this pleasure
The meat piles up on my plate beyond measure.

On broccoli, on carrots, on taters for him
They’ll garnish my plate, but they’ll scarce enter in
To my gullet so long as charred flesh is in reach
And once I’m content 1 Corinthians 10 I will teach.

Stumble not my brother, and lead others to peace
Better teach them to feast on the flesh of the beast.

Meat: It’s what’s for dinner.

Poem III

Of all the creatures in the world there is one which is the most confusing. She is the last of God’s creatures. She can do at once what three men can. She is the weaker vessel. She is strong willed, “her desire will be for her husband.” She is at once beautiful and terrible. She will win any fight, even when she is wrong. Hell hath no fury like her scorned. She communicates even when she is not speaking. She expects you to understand. She can be a dripping faucet. La Donna é Mobile.

But oh she is the most wonderful of creatures. She answered the call when we were not meant to be alone. She will be loved. She is the helpmate. She is the jewel in the crown, the apple in the eye, she is the neck. She leaves me bewildered. Where would we be without her? I’ll tell you. Nowhere. Without her, our Creator would be a bit of a nihilist. Who wants that? Not I. Without who crushes the serpents head?

Her nature is cryptic. Alone she merely is. Only once she is loved does she truly become lovely. She has a reason to live. Without her we have naught to defend. We exist for her. She exist for us. What are we without her? Why else would we slay dragons?

She is lovely. She tames the beast. She is Woman.

Chesterton

Hey Everyone, a quick posts between poems to tide you guys over. This Is my favorite author GK Chesterton. I used guache on artists gel then added details with Prismacolor colored pencils

Poem II- On time

I am enchanted with the idea of inheritance, the romance of generational thinking has always appealed to me. Thank you for that peace of art. I will pass this pipe to my children in turn, because it meant so much to you and now to me.

I would know you from Adam if you never gave anything to me. Adam gave me an inheritance. Part of Adam lives in me. He got it from his wife. She got it from a snake. I was his nonetheless. It’s deep inside me, written on my DNA. But everyone knows its there. It’s less like an inheritance. More like a family curse.

Would you believe that some one would attempt to steal my inheritance? He took it for himself and bought it at a heavy price. It came with a purple robe, a crown of thorns, and a free tomb. He was an Adam too. He held my inheritance up on two pieces of wood, and after three days he broke it. He destroyed it, and while I still hold on to some of the remnants it is slipping through my fingers, day by day.

I have a new inheritance. Praise God.

Poem I- Better late than never

Trinity

To comprehend, I pound my head,
Rigorous and tireless
Into the cathedral floor.
Never able to surmount
Insurmountable heights, which greater men fell before.
To me you remain a mystery.
You, O God are Trinity.

Try as I might to fathom you
Righteously Transcendent
I cannot pierce the mist
Not even with a heart dependent.
If the adage is right, I remain in bliss.
To be Father, Spirit, Son
You, O God are Three in One.

Theology is my joy,
Reaching to heights unmeasured.
I must plumb all the depths
Nor leave any unexamined treasure.
I how’er am made undone
Trying to comprehend thee
You, O God are one and three.

Update

The Aforementioned contest has been moved to the days of the the twenty-sixth of the Great Month of Christ' Advent and the twenty-ninth, by mutual agreement between me and my esteemed combatant.
Be There.

CHALLENGE

I challenge KENNY TROVATO to an Abstract thought/Poetry Contest
4 Days- 24-27
4 Posts- 1 of each on God, Sin, Women, and Food
To be judged by whosoever reads our respective Blogs, namely, John, Jeremy, and Jen.

Haiku are fair game. Free Association is laudable. Sonnets are Sonorous. You are Challenged. You have 24 Hours to respond.

T

Epiphany

I just realized this and it might sound completely weird... but... egg salad is just baby chicken salad, why two distinct names?
like I said, weird.

T

Snow!

We had our first big snow of the winter, and morgan said that each snow flake was a little miracle.

Moog+ Snow = Warm Heart

Toasty, T

The In Between Tones

Evil is Gray. It isn't black, and don't ever let anyone tell you that. Evil lurks in between. We are not all mass murders, sadist and rapists. But Most of us are backbiters and thieves. We've got a little white in our black. Even the demons fear and tremble, and I guess that counts for something. We have a visceral reaction to black. When it arrives we go inside and lock the door. We let gray build. Gray can be tolerated, after all, "its not all black." I prefer black to Gray. In utter darkness I can't see the heavy breathing across the room. But it can't see me. But all bets are off when it comes to Gray. Lord alone knows what can see me that I can't see. black is the Absence of Light. Gray is the distortion of it. You can shine a light in the dead of night and it causes the demons to fly, but in the fog of Gray the light cannot reach nearly far enough. Stay out of the black. Stay even farther out of the Gray. There are no fair fights in the Gray.

These are all scary thoughts to have while you walking to your car in the dark with no shoes on.

Tyler


PS. This is he half completed freud picture i promised earlier.

Update

Hey there faithful readers, yes I'm talking to the four of you who have valiantly read all my posts >:->{- (thats a bit of an excessive "emoticon" but the moustache and eyebrows were necessary) anyway, here i stand at a crossroads, go to bed and possibly not finish my homework, stay up late and possibly have a lousy day tomorrow, or keep blogging and possibly not finish my homework. I choose all three. I will go to bed before I'm done, but stay up working/ blogging to the point where it didn't actually make sense to go to bed without finishing my homework. If you can't make the best choice you might as well choose the worst, right? Moving foreward, I am upping the ante on the quote to two dollars for the first person to guess the author, and I will even add a hint, Google will not help you on this one. Finally I am on the class ring commitee and I redesigned the Roch bridge Crest to fit the ring and figured I might as well post it for your edification. Second Finally, I am working on a really cool portrait of Sigmund Freud that I will scan and post once I'm done. Third and Final Finally, I got accepted to New Saint Andrews this past week! One of my best friends did as well, and I am extremely excited! God bless you all and to all a good night.

Intro

"If a fallen man is a madman, and he certainly is, then materialism is the straight jacket that enrages him, the padded walls that block out the sun, and the nails in his coffin."

Let that be the theme of this blog. After reading GK Chesterton's "Orthodoxy" I've been enchanted with the astounding similiarities between Materialism and Madness. I guess this is a good enough excuse to start a blog, however, I think this will just morph into me backing up the information highway with my personal thoughts and feelings. Anyway here I am. Let me know what you think of the quote and a dollar to the first person to guess who it is.

Without Wax,
Tyler