Jannua_Celi

8/8/2019 Jannua_Celi

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Jannua

Celi



Copy write Joseph Markenstein

©Joseph Markenstein 2010



Dedicated to my missing Rib

Debora La Doux



Twilight Of The Acting Person

By Joe Markenstein

In Vanessa Carlton’s song “Twilight” she recants a dream of heaven which I wish to drawout and what it constitutes.

“I will never see the

Sky the same way

And

I will learn to say

Goodbye to yesterday

And

I will never cease to fly

If held down

And

I will always reach

Too high

Cause

I’ve seen

Twilight.”

“I was stained, with a role,

In a day not my own

But as you walked into my lifeYou showed what needed to be

Shown

And I always knew, what was right

I just didn’t know that I might



Peel away and chose to see

With such a different sight.”

In John Paul II’s audiences from August of 1979 to March of 1980, he speaks of primitiveinnocents, which is stated here with being “stained with a role in a day not my own.” This linesees the “first” or “primitive” sight which is objective to conception and birth. However thatsight is foggy and needs the Champion to clarify it. And, like unto the Hubble Space Telescope,she always knew what was right; she only awaited her Champion: the Spectacles of Justice.

Peeling away here is a kind of Schelerian Eudae ”monasticism” of a kind of delightful,almost cool pain of the need for us to fulfill all justice in penance. The smallest of penanceseare the best for Humility sake.

The psychological facet is in the chorus of this song. Here, her synthesis of effectivelytranscending the moral corruption of values “runs out of gas” because she needs the tension of conflict between her faith and skepticism to re-invigorate her vim and transcend once again tobe bounced out or recessed by the twilight zone of ethereal phantasmagoria or dreamscape.

“As the sun shines through

It pushes away and pushes ahead

It fills the warmth of blue and

Leaves a chill instead and

I didn’t know that I could be

So blind to all that is so realBut as illusion dies I see

There is so much to be

Revealed.”

This little bridge of cloud is a deep portrait of heaven. For a while it seemed to be theblue of 3rd heaven known to anthropology as Eden. However, now it reveals the deeper,deepest heaven : The Blue Blood of the Heart of God. The Mystical City of God by Mary Agredaconcerning the Heavenly Jerusalem describes the foundation stones in comparison with virtuesof the Blessed Mother.

Quoth :

“The second, sapphire. This stone imitates the color of the clear and serene firmamentand shows a scattering of gold spots or atoms. Its color typifies the serenity and tranquility of the gifts and graces of the most holy Mary, enabling Her to enjoy an unchanging, heavenly andserene peace, free from any cloud of disorder and illumined from the moment of Her



Conception with visions of the Divinity. By the likeness of Her virtues to the divine attributesand by Her participation in them, especially in their unchangeableness, She made Herself worthy to see God. Many times during Her pilgrimage through life was She favored withunveiled and clear vision of God, as will be described. In virtue of this singular privilege theAlmighty endowed Her with the power of communicating tranquility and peace of spirit to

those, who will ask for Her intercession. Therefore let all the faithful, who are agitated andstirred up by the tormenting anxiety of their vices, pray to Her, that so they may obtain fromHer this gift of peace.”

I chose to quote Mary Agreda here to unlace the “little chill instead;” each of us beingcounted as an atom in this cool Blue of the Heart of God. He is Eternally Blue for His mammaMary. She “knits” us into these little gold atoms like a gallbladder mediates the stomach bilefrom the liver.

Over all, self-determination is confused with resentment and never more poeticallyexpressed than here. She is self-determined to reach her goal: Heaven. Vanessa’s objectivity is

not genuine objectivity; a thought that crossed her mind when writing this poem. That is whatshe is asking us as listeners, namely: Is this determination to transcend bifurcating fromresentment or from genuine innocents? The conflict is between reflection and reflexivecognition. Reflection is the inner part of us seeing ourselves from our desire for perfection.This inner sight sees what it desires as already in fruition whereas the reflexive cognizance seeswhat is produced by others recollections of themselves interiorly and grafts those desires intothe personal will. This “grafting” is the conflict for which Vanessa wrestles, seeking an answerto what she already accepts but won’t give herself to fully without company. It has been saidthat misery loves company but in the opposite case joy also loves company. So to limit thedesire for company to the limits of resentment is what she is asking. Can joy also love companyas much as miserable resentment? The answer is most affirmatively: Yes! Joy also Lovescompany! Heaven is the beginning and end of our lives unique, where in innocents we perceivethe oblique with acute attention; something impossible to fully realize while living in the fleshparabolique.

In the second verse the poetry seems to decline by using negation; however the verytitle of the album does this by saying: “Be Not Nobody.” It is telling us to be SOMEbody byinductive reasoning through two apposing negatives. She seems to recognize the futility of thiskind of reason when, after innocents is received, it is no longer necessary to induce reason; onewill simply be rather than declension being the being in place of one’s own ontology.

She is placing the station of her personal axiom on NOT being shallow rather thanplacing the station of personal axiom on being within the profound depths of Love. However,this axiological A-position of negatives does draw out all the truth about her not being shallow;it is only that she needs to keep returning to skeptics, whom she says she is nothing like, forfurther disapproval so she can make another “dreamscape” from the axis of being rejected.Dreamscape is necessity when it turns deliberately to those who will figuratively be rejectionpersonified. Dreamscape is only joyful when it is not a necessity. Rather still it is joyful when itis innocently playful and never mindful of any necessities of any kind.



So neither shall I see the sky the same way and I will never cease to fly when held in theblue blood of the Heart of God, as we are two peas in a pod, the sod of which I have traveled,baffled by the mystery of Love.

Le Lavement

De Grace

By Joe Markenstein

Marie ‘lor vous ête le trumpet de Dieu;

Qui Conquer le feu de Notre Muse.Il ait confussée, mais votre chère amie

Est le surprise d’entre-nous souffle;

Qui buffle march en haut, et les Mots ont

Les flacons, Grosse cruche, grosse bouche

Buisson gravement affamé

Jusqu’à le lavement des pieds.

Quand Jesus’ operation

Du l’eau de les autre Apôtres

À Pentacôte entre-nous son côté .



The Cleansema

Of Grace

Translated by Joe Markenstein

Mary then, you are the Car of God

Who checks the distractions of our wandering imagination.

He would be confused, but your dear friend

Is the surprise of our welcome entry into fresh air;Who’s buffalo walk on high, and these words so spry are

The Flagons, Big Louse, Big Mouth,

A bush bravely burning

Just for the:”Clensema” of the Feet.

When Jesus’ operation

Of the water of the other brothers

To Penteside for us into His Side!

To Jona

By Alfred De Musset

O Heaven! I renew you, Madame,--

In all the loves of my “am”

You the most tender and the first.

Do you know then of our story?

Me, I have kept the memory: --



It was, I believe, this summer past.

Ah! Robespiere, when thinking on you there,

In these times where folly despairs,As it flees us and we scream!

Know you well enough, my old maid,

Its winter, so without any parade,

Will I be twenty young, and you eighteen?

All’s well! My love, no flattery intended,If my rose is a little impended,

She has covered her beauty.

Child! Ever cleaver Espanola

Neither so beautiful, nor so Bola®™--

Do you know yourself in this body?

From our carousing to our scuffs

You give me a name for myself

Your String of Pearls© for my appeal,

And holding three nights, Oh that I would die

I woke at every bat of the eye,

For to see and for to feel!

And you, dame, O dame damed!

And the diabolic framed

Where your thoughts Curl Up & Dye,®™



O my pearl of Andalousy,

You see the sea of my jealousy,

And your young Catchers In The Rye!©

Ah! Lift your guard, Robespiere,

This lover there, when one might dare,

To be reproved by a small Dove.

When a heart you have contained

Jona, this place instead became

Too vast for any other love.

But what would I say? The same goes the world.

How must I wrestle with the profound;

Where the floods never reverse their flow?

Close your eyes, your arms, your “am”;

Fairwell, my life, --fairwell Madame,

The same goes the world here below.

The times are flying by

The springtime and high tide,

Like this the life and days pour

All rush in like fumes

The Holy Spirit vs. Hume

And me whom you have seen swoon,

And you who remember them no more!



The Ennui of Humanity

By Joe Markenstein

Before four and score years aboard,Adore you the basciliscum?

St. Bosco’s Bosco in the rubrum,

Waxes the floor to adore, adore!

Can’t you weight the freight of a second

Would Ennui say: Oui, Oui, Oui all the Ouais Homme?And drone a corn pone to the bone

With a mesc friend like Ernest Fecund?

A Note to a Friend

By Joe Markenstein

In this house

I repose, I suppose

Upon your cloths

As a June bug in a tither

Or a pilgrim at Cizer Menor!

It’s really all the same your name

A procession without ceasing.

Caressing in the Karybdis

The Cross in your fist and

These tears so dear are



The greatest of all Mansions

In this House Of Dreams!

Jesus My Joy

By Joe Markenstein

O Jesus, joy of my desire

May I squire from You transcendence?

And fold me in Your arms

Make me into your Charms.

O Jesus who lives in Mary

Singing like canaries;

I take flight to your refuge

Within the deluge of Your Grace.

Your Face shines radiantly

In me for free at no cost

Except your expression of deep

O.P.P.ression, in suffering solemnly for me.

You who are Three in One

And perfectly unique

With candid beak

You pluck the defenses from my garrison.



Tear me down, blow me down.

I am who I am from you who are

Never God in the Car

Yet you’re steering all souls to heaven.

The feathers of Your pin-yin receives

Me so tenderly, I’m taken

Breathless! At last! My cast

Shadow in you is reprieved.

Blue Grass

By Joe Markenstein

I believe the grass here is green

Because it grows out of the earth.

I believe the grass in Heaven is blue

Because it grows out of the sky.

Why ask why when you fail to ask how?

Now, once you know, you’ll know why, WoW!

Absinthe Makes

The Heart Grow Fonder!

By Joe Makenstein



Heart of mine, stop thumping so

You’ve only received a sip of anise

And a touch of wormwood and ClusoThat Pink Panther of a snifter in a valise.

The Police say with Every Breath You Take

You make the mark so stark; it drips with color.

And so for all the ideas you see, know nothing’s fake;

For all the wiles of those visions burn like blubber.

Flubber, if you Will, is like this heart of mine,

Ruby and rubbery, Hard Red then soft blue,

Soft Ice®™, if you will, is the boundary made of brine,

All you need do to make it through is Koo.

Or moan like a Dove, for this threshold is in tears

Where there is no fear of the dreaded self.

The self on its shelf as a trophy makes clear

That from here, it’s all us and ourselves on the shelves.

Abs-0-synthly Lucid, As-0-lutly delicious

Abs-0-smurfly mushrooms, Abs-0-lutly decorum.

Alight on a flight beyond night suspicious,

Beyond in the Great Beyond, all boredom.



Those eyes crying with Lacrimossa Carrissime

Those: Tears So Dear are making Ever Clear

The Horizon on the bier of Tears of ClayNow The Holy Spirit dispels all Evil Fear!

Climb-Max of my Heart Bonaparte

Is a dart of righteous indignation

At PlayStation®™ making sport of my horse and carts.

So: a toast and a Boast to Jesus in my declension.

Sully’s suspension of all the misanthropy

In his work on metaphysics, describes:

Heavens Horizon as blue in matrimony

After he took a few sips to imbibe.

Victor’s insecticide can chide any one who

Seeks heaven in a methodical way.

And make a stray course into a queue

For Eden is accessible to those who catch its ray.

Frédéric’s fickle fate, on a bed spate

With music: List! O, List! Make a fist

And crack your knuckles for my sake.

Send me beyond Cirrus Minor to Major Feast!



Karol in Communion made his cake

And now he eats it, and repeats it

To us with pure action of water from the lake.

Pure water, Reviving Water keeps up fit:To R.I.P.

Sister, Mother; Brother, Brest.

By Joe Markenstein

La Mer et le sandLa Mère est le Sein

Il est gentileIls ait: J’en tile

Aile et filigreeElle est fil y gré

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