The claim that Christianity is not monotheistic would engender the longest most useless monologue from any Christian-with-a-capital-C or Christian theologian So don’t claim that. Unless you have the patience. The Creed has always been: credo in unum Deum.

But it is a mistake to equate that with the groundbreaking monotheism of the Jews: in those early times the Jews were absolutely unique among all the polytheistic religions, because of this single god, with an unpronounceable name. The thigh is : that is true monotheism.
Jesus’ words caused a great panic among the Jews, when he said, unequivocally, that he was God. Actually that alone would not have precluded monotheism. The problem was, he went on to talk about Abba, his Father-God, exactly as the Jews did. So, this presented a conundrum – a logical impossible duality. Of course, when he then finally introduced one more wrinkle, the Holy Spirt, he stuck the logical world, including the Christian faith that ensued, with a long explanation, which still confuses people today.
Let me apologize for my first paragraph. In no way is my intent to dismiss those who, in their devotion to the understanding of the mysteries of faith, have created the explanation of “three-in-one”. I only seek to admonish them, with love, to open their minds to a grander possibility.
In fact, the actual words of Jesus went far beyond three. He told us that we are all a part of one body, his body, the body of God. So, instead of three-in-one is should be All-in-One. I take that expression from Dr. Bronner, an Essene, maker of the soap that appears in all health-conscious stores. Read the bottle some time!
So, it is actually much better than monotheism , and beyond the simplicity of polytheism. Actually – and here is more heresy – it is very thoroughly explained in the Vedanta: that there is no separation between the individual and the universe. That’s a poor explanation of one of the deepest theologies known, but the idea is key: that we are all one and that One is what we call God.

It’s that time of year again – starting with Black Friday (really? we don’t see any ominous symbolism in that name?), we shop like frenzied pigs at the trough, up until Christmas. In addition to our copious shopping, we have quite a few discussions about the poor. We hear admonitions at our church, synagogue, or yoga kirtan about mindless waste and the care of our less fortunate brothers and sisters. Finally, we are prone to feelings of love and tenderness towards people, at this time of year. These feelings are deeper than at other times during the year.  Or, they may solely occur, for certain individuals, at this time of year. There have been scholarly articles, and yes, even blogs, written about the cause of these feelings, as well as the causes of the other two dynamics I mentioned. These dynamics are cross-cultural, at least for  capitalist Judeo-Christian nations: the same currents are felt in Bethlehem and Singapore. You know all this. IN fact, you know everything.

But ultimately, collectively, nothing ever changes, nothing has ever changed, as a result of either the glory or the shame. The people who volunteer at the soup kitchen do indeed get a warm feeling which suffices for them for the remainder of the year.  But, the soup eaters themselves simply return the next day and the next day, and don’t really feel that much more loved, by virtue of the presence or absence of one more affluent soups ladler like you. Jesus is attributed with saying,

The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. Matthew 26:11

That phrase has provoked me for most of my life. While there is a lot to be surmised about it, I want to stick with the point that, apparently, nothing is ever supposed to change, at least with regard to the poor, so saith the Prophet. Like Buddha Gotama, Jeshua is letting us down gently by saying that this Earthly life is going to have suffering. You can not end the suffering,  You can not solve poverty.  Apparently.

But the second part, but you will not always have me, is, I think, an admonition to work, to always work, to carry the torch, in the name of whatever you choose to associate with me, in that phrase. Jeshua, “God with us”, is the “easy button.”  When you have The Great Moral Leader right there with you, you won’t slack. What will we do now that Mandela is not keeping his eye on us?  What did we do after Gandhi Gi was out of the way? Yes, the poor and the oppressed were still there.  But, nobody took care of them anymore.  Nobody brought them up at dinner.

Actually, it doesn’t matter to me if the Jesus scripture supports what I am saying.  It is just a springboard to foment discussion among my peers.  My point is this: do it yourself.

The People say, “The Government should feed the Poor.” The Pope he say “The Church should feed the Poor.” Who is this “Government” person?  Who is this “Church” guy?

They are our scapegoats.  Our way out the back door. They are supposed to be We, the People – but that has been so untrue for so long, it sickens me a little to even repeat it. Hearing people say “We the People” has even made me a little bitter over the years. While it is impossible for anyone but you to fix your broken accountability mechanism, there is at least one little aspect of this Government co-dependency you might be able to fix pretty quickly.

You don’t know how to go the Poor.  You don’t know how to find the Poor.  You don’t know how to feed the Poor. Do you. But the Government seems to know.  “They” (I won’t use “We”) have the resources and staff and organizational ability to organize a program like, say, food stamps. But, still, the real Poor don’t get fed. The Church runs places like Camillus House.  Here is Miami, Camillus House is in the heart of the real Poor – in Overtown. “They” (the Camillus Organization) provide meals to society’s offcasts.  Bien hecho, Church.

So, you can certainly donate money to the Church and pay your taxes (or, support social works with your ballot).  But, why do you need these organizations? You really can’t find the poor?  You really don’t know how to feed the poor? Now, here is a distinction I make between the Poor and the real Poor: there are lots of people who, after living a modest, but comparatively comfortable life, get laid off their job, or get that foreclosure notice. I call this “hard luck”, but I don’t call it really poor.  These people can qualify for any number of assistance programs – and be approved.  They get help from the Church and the Government and their families and neighbors.  The real Poor, on the other hand, did NOT have a relatively comfortable life, ever. The real Poor were abused, malnourished, surrounded by drugs and death, most of their lives. The real Poor are not quaint intellectuals, fallen from Grace, like Robin Williams, in The Fisher King.  No.  There are millions of people in this world who will NEVER make it out of the quagmire of abject poverty. Millions of people who have chronic drug addictions (not like Lindsey Lohan), and are therefore banned from both Government programs and Church programs, “left out to die on the mountains of the heart” (Rilke). These people require the one thing that We cannot seem to give: a personal investment in an untidy relationship. You know, the real Poor need someone to confide in, someone to care.  And if you open that door, they will confide in you, call you, ask you for money, ask you to give them a ride to their drug dealer, show up at your home.  Yes.  That is caring for the real Poor,  But – you don’t have to do that!  Just start out by finding them, and feeding them!  Oh, where are they, though?

Christ!  They’re everywhere!  The Poorest of the Poor lie on the sidewalks of my city, to the extent that I have to step over them.  Are you blind? Do you step over them?  Do you have conversations with your friends about whether or not to give money to “beggars.” Well, I say, give them money. I say, go home, fill up a bag with good – hell, drive to Whole Foods and drop $50 on a bag of healthy food, and drive back to you-now-exactly-where, and hand the bag to someone.

Once you cut the middle-man, the Great Scapegoat – out of the picture, you can immediately start feeding the poor.  Just feed them.  Don’t blame the Government – and yes, the Government should feed the poor!  Don’t blame the Church – and yes, the Church should feed the poor! Get out of that cycle. Go feed the poor.

sneaks out of Vatican at night to feed poor

I finally got it.  the worst revelation of my life, a long life of revelations. this one had to come to me now? so late? such a bad one? it’s really hard to handle. but, here it is:
people need love and understanding.  I knew that. it’s not my revelation. it’s my gospel to share.  so, stop right here, if you need to, and take that in.  people don’t need all your other bullshit, your “advice”, your self-help, you affirmations, your analysis. shut up. give them your love and understanding, and stop there.

no. my revelation is this: the “bad guys” know this secret, too!  yes! the child molesters, the grimy trolls under the bridge – they too realize that if they offer love and understanding, your prey, the deer, the kittens, the puppies, will crawl right into their lap. and worse!  they will love them – the “bad guys”!

ok.  I knew that too – abut the bad guys.  here’s what I really did not know. the bad guys extend to everywhere! they are not just the shady characters lurking in the bathrooms. they are you!  you, the person “who cares”!  yes, you are a bottom feeder too!  you feed off of the poor saplings who just need light and air and just want to grow. and you, in your false wisdom, your arrogance of total misunderstanding, you offer them your diseased hand, and the lick it, in humble adoration.  oh my God.  how could You have let this happen?!

yes. it goes beyond my wildest dreams. I have now seen that the sweetest person can be handed from one remora to the next, throughout her entire lifetime. ow can there be so many, in an unbroken chain? an entire civilization, starved for the beautiful, sweet  innocent idolators, who just need someone to cling to. “Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?”

I hope I have made myself clear. it’s just something I could never have believed – that the world could be so cold and damning to certain people, but that it was not attributable to circumstance, or “bad guys”, rather, these people, like a lightning rod, attracted zombies to them. stupid, dime-sized brainfeeders, with just enough savvy to understand the simple principles of mind control, espoused by Dr. Phil and Oprah.

of course, it has to begin at some point, in earnest. there has to be the coldest of criminals to begin this cycle. this is indeed the child molester – the one who takes the very center away from the sweetest child – takes it forever.  yes, another revelation: it is possible to break a human permanently, to condition them, through cruelty, to be blind to cruelty – the victim uses their defense mechanism of “flight” so many times, that it becomes a permanent “enabling” back door to the far more insipid “backdoor predator”. Not a child molester – and emotional remora! a loser. a dream-feeder.  and thus, the cycle is perfectly perpetuated: the blind lead the blind!

and i thought I knew it all!  thought I could save everyone! idiot.  poor dumb Kam. you can’t save a drowning rat! because the enemy is too unbelievable.  and the victims, the ones you love, they are too fucked up.  God, I still can not accept it.  did Jesus really finally accept it in the end?  is that the true ending to the allegory?  that you give and give and try to save them, and in the end, you give up?  and in order to hide your shame, you stage your own glorious crucifixion?  the only way out, for those who have seen, is the cross?

because that’s the advice everyone has always given me: you just can’t help everybody.  some people are just tragedies. well, sorry. even though I now know what I know, I will not let this cup be taken from me. I repeat: “to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” – nothing short of that.

I hope you find it.  I don’t think it’s something you find, though. it is harder when your path is strewn with bodies, each one with a note of sorry pinned to it. a road paved with good intentions, but littered with personas.

to be free, you must take ownership of the bad things.  for those things you may not say your sorry. it’s the price of freedom.

you don’t let someone else speak for you.  ever.  this should be obvious.  freedom is before all freedom from fear.

the free carry their dead on their backs, up a hill, while their children hang from their skirts. freedom is love, and love has an earthly weight.

where were they when you were defenseless? a true friend will never leave you, even when you tell him to. the one who leaves because of threats or entreaties is a fair weather friend. the true friend must hang around, in case you get defenseless again.

friendship can not suppress freedom. what a sad and misguided thought that is. you climb to your freedom on the backs of your friends – those would be the ones you give you their back, not turn them on you.

when you learn about forever, I will still be here.

the quality of the emptiness you bring me is so real, so fine. just for me. you turn my nights into days, lay awake on my chest, like child we bore. together.
likewise, you ride the wave, the crest. you, the lone ranger. not belonging to anyone. that’s your method, your secret. so you think. but, in the end, no one cares. they’ll let you alone. all of them.
and I, like the guy, in the wheelchair. going crazy. burning alive. so many mad dreams and hopes. but we can’t stand up. can’t get a response either. so we are bound down, seated,breathing, like you told us. like you tell everyone. wish I could.
and now my nights are days, and days are spent running, trying to hide. as are you, are you not? don’t I know you? aren’t you the one who is just like me? soul mate? but, you know, for us, our little secret, is that soul mate is a play on “cell mate.” because it is a prison. ours much grander, deeper, darker, than mine. but I love yours. would take it. would take the floor, you can have the cage, suspended. we could loo at one another, me up, you down. that’s good enough in the soul prison.
is it resentment? you don’t want a soul mate? someone who gets you? who gets it and loves it? loves you. that breaks up the monotony, the solitude, wherein the thoughts are so rich, dark, green, blue, amber, chartreuse, the gold in the lotus.
and so, my emptiness arrives, on time, each night. and I know you are in it. I know you.

http://open.spotify.com/track/1p6KYBuUCLz0eJD5Etkl1Q

I knew it was “real” (using that word loosely) by at least 45. It’s that horror reserved for lunatics. Those who see, and remember. The good with the bad. Can’t forget a face. A name, a number. A place, a home.

They were called writers. Finally. After living in the horror for , say, 45 years. But there’s no solace for the writer, in being called a writer. Same horror. But now drugs and escape are legal, legit. Paid for.

Oh, btw – What horror? Right. Well, not the horror of Auschwitz. Not Viet Nam. Those people end up tied to a bed, face down. Or dead. This horror is for the half-living. The sighted people, that wish they were blind. That hurts.

No pain killer is even interesting. Except the shotgun. Assume that made Hemingway feel a little better. For a little while. The duration of bullet to unconsciousness. That was bliss. Then, there was Hell to pay.

Sorry, you guys. Your poetry chapbooks are not enough for me. I want the red felt skirts at Christmas, and kissing. The kiss of desire. The foundational knowledge that someone wants you. Is wanting you. You, not a horrific freak.

Click the link below to listen to California Love – Original Version (Edited) by 2Pac on Spotify: http://open.spotify.com/track/0YDjIBDHfkKiCNGXWO0wyW