Category

Art

I saw that the meaning of life…

I saw that the meaning of life was to make a living, its goal to become a councilor, that the rich delight of love was to acquire a well-to-do girl, that the blessedness of friendship was to help each other in financial difficulties, that wisdom was whatever the majority assumed it to be, that enthusiasm…

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Early Christians and Their Deluded, Prurient Love

But Romans frequently criticized the Christian emphasis on love as somehow a little deluded and perhaps prurient, suggesting that followers of the Jesus Way made it known that theirs was a path of love. Early Christians insisted that love–not rationality or politics or even virtue–was the primary bond between God and humans beings. Love was…

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Perichoresis: The Eternal Divine Dance

Key to understanding Moltmann’s ecclesiology is to grasp his concept of the social trinity.  The ecclesiology that he proposes, and that I take up in my book, is a “relational ecclesiology,” and he gets there by beginning with a concept of the godhead that is fundamentally relational. For Moltmann, God is relationship — primarily the…

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Dobby Gibson’s Titles Left Unpoemed

1. Colonial Voice-over 2. When That I had Bus-Stop Patience 3. Go Deep 4. A New Category of Response to Beautiful Women 5. I Am the Stringer, I Am the Strung 6. The 90-Percent-Solution Solution 7. Ode to Emancipated Minors 8. Real Falling 9. From Book XVI: The Lingerie Wars 10. Why Me Poet 11….

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New Poem: Love’s Dawning Day

Love’s Dawning Day for Natalie Why your hair blows and drifts, smells of sweet perfume, or your eyes turn to smile, just then you planned descent daylights dawning, golden luster, starved for embrace, you by my side. A daunting derelict hour, love’s unrelenting pace. A mystery bound in a lovers gaze, a hearts lace holds…

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New Poem: Conceptual Volition

Conceptual Volition Sometimes the nicest thing anyone can say is, ‘I’m thinking of you.’ What this means is that at this very moment an image of you has appeared in anothers mind. Their heart strings–which extend from the chest up through the neck and attach above the corners of the mouth– have been stretched tightly,…

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Someone, and no matter

Someone, and no matter who, inhabits my head like it’s an empty house, he enters, he leaves, he bangs each door behind him, powerless I put up with this ruckus. Someone, and maybe it’s me, palms my most private thoughts, he crumples them, returns them to dust. Someone, and it’s much later now, slowly walks…

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