Saturday, June 3, 2017

Of Cities and Citybred Monsters
By © E. Antons Benjamiņš, 2017

It has  come to be that the atheist-controlled community of government has become the fake Godhead over the community of Nature. Likewise, government has made itself to become the People.

The Great Grandson of God (a play)
(A retelling of the story of King Oedipus)
Episode 6

(At the back of the stage appears Tiresias. He is crawling on all fours and is covered with blood. It is clear he is mortally wounded. The Chorus sees him and exclaims:)

O O!, O O!, O O!

(he does not notice Tiresias, and continues to attack King Oedipus:)
Your mother and wife!
She, who saved you
From the wood,
And made you King
Of Thebes.
Who knows,
Tomorrow you may be
King of Moscow
or Washington!

It was the Queen
Who denied you
Your fathers,
who sent you
To the wood for
the Gods
to watch over.
Or perhaps
to relieve you
Of the burden
You were born
To bear.

Your mother, outwitted
your father,
And stole you
Not only
from him,
But the Gods as well.


When in the morning
a servant from the court
Brought back the body
Of an infant
(alleged to be you)
Your father
Poured out his eyes
In sorrow.

Your mother
Pretending shock
directed me
(a young goatherd then)
to take your body
for the whores
--to bury you
under the roots
of an apple tree.
Whence the song:

‘I leant against
The blossoming
Apple tree
As if she were
My mother.’

Such is the milk
Of your mother’s

Now even she
does not know
How to save you
From yourself.

King Oedipus:
Who is
Paying you
To tell this story?

When you
Were still
Learning to walk,
Your mother traveled
To Corinth
To visit with you.
Her sister Europa
Used to say,
she would
have to marry you
To get to keep you.

(exclaims, suddenly)
Dearest, God!

(having lingered at the back of the stage crawls forward)
King Oedipus,
Do you really believe
Those without experience
in living a life
in the wood
can recognize
life’s true nature?)

You can dream
and pray
As much as you wish,
But your chances to win
The lottery
Will not increase
Even if
You are a God.

This is why
Even Gods die
(God’s Will be done),
Their hopes unrealized
And are
All the more sacred
For it.

God is ever an actor
Who must die;

Who must
Grief to the bone,
when watch
die a child.

King Oedipus:
I saved the children
Of Thebes
From the Sphinx.
I cut the wood
Where the Sphinx hid.
I drained the swamp
It wallowed in.

There are
no more Snakes.
Our greenhouses
Are free of them.

Our cityzens
Have central heating.
They know no
soot filled baths.
Our altars
are no mere rocks.
Our banks are
filled with gold,

and paper
pays our way
to the moon.

Thebes comes to me
To thank
For the welfare
She enjoys.

Who dares say
I killed my father?
The only man
I ever killed
Was a merchant
Selling children
to be killed
On the Sphinx’s altars
in the wood.

Your father hoped
You would
become a King.

But look at you now.
See what’s become
of you:

a torturer of shepherds,
a bucher of elk.

Of youself
You offer us nothing.
You are a pimp
Who solicits violence
On behalf of
and taxes.

King Oedipus:
How dare you
Address me, thus?
Were you not
The driver
of the wagon
Of the children driven
to sacrifice?

You ought to be
Shredded into
a tatters!
As the Sphinx
was shredded

Had you survived,
But for one night,
You would be
The legitimate
King of Thebes.

But you are not,
However closely
Your mother
Embraced you
And cursed God.
and was ready
To lift her skirt
For anybody
Who would remove
You from
the mountain and
that night.

King Oedipus:
Was it you
Who brought me
To the wood?

As old traditions
And your father,
King Laius,

Your mother
Came to me
And asked
To stand watch
Over you.

I agreed
If she sat naked
And cooed
To ward off the Sphinx
If it came around
To have a taste
Of us.

King Oedipus:
And what else
Did you agree to?

During the night
While I dozed,
A sudden
blew over Mt. Citheron.
The Queen
Snatched you up
In her arms
And ran into the hut,
Where herder John,
to dance
His cock
Over her.

The Queen
Paid him off
With gold, and
the corpse
Of an infant
Of some
Desparate whore.

After the King
Had been presented
Your (alleged) corpse,
She let John
Ride her again.

King Oedipus:
Was the merchant
In the palanquin
my father?

You met him
In the wood,
At the crossroad.

King Oedipus:
I am at a loss
For words.

I wish I were deaf.
And born
without ears!

Listen, God,
I have yet
other stories
To tell you.

Your mother
And her sister,
The one raped
By the white bull
From Snowland,
Had found their way
To the temple’s
Kept for desperate men
By desperate women.
Now both sisters
have children buried
in the potter’s field

It was the pain
Of birth followed
By instant death
That had
Iocaste curse
the holy city,
And justify it
become Babylon.

Babylon’s King
Has turned himself
Into a God
Who never dies.

I am his witness.

King Oedipus:
In other words,
You are a spy,

Lucked out.
And become
King Polybus’s

Queen Iocaste
Took Europa’s advice,
And went to sit
On King Laius’s
He was awed
And had no questions
As to where
You were conceived.
It sufficed him
You were born
In Thebes.

King Oedipus:
Quite a fantasy.

Indeed, only God
Can kill his father
And sleep with
his mother
And still remain God.
No way
That I am He.

Do you know, King,
Where the loop is
That bound your feet?

Your mother,
The Queen of Thebes,
Received it from
The goatherd
For another chance
to dance
His cock over her.

It is the necklace
She presented you with
At your wedding.
It is the same
You wear around
Your neck
This very moment.

King Oedipus:
Dear Gods!

When at night
my eyes close,
I often
sight to myself:
“Oh Gods, Oh Gods!
Oh Gods!”

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