EC 602 at http://esoschronicles.blogspot.com/

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 3

King Oedipus:

Come, Creon!

What say

the Sun’s maids?

Speak before all.

We’re gathered here

For you

To hear you!

Everyone in Thebes

Has one and the same

Anxiety and pain.

Prince Creon:

King, Oedipus,

Have you forgot?

The state is based

On honesty

And believability.

There cannot be doubt

About this.

Else it fails.

But when doubt comes live,

My name turns

and becomes

King Malice,

And my mace must

Protect your neck.

It’s no joke

We’re men

Who dare not fear death.

What I have to tell

Is not a story

That I have made up.

It is told by temple maids

Whose ears are licked

By the tongues

of honey bees

bringing honey from

linden trees in bloom.

King Oedipus:

You’re not the one

Who will make me

think twice.

Prince Creon:

You said it!

So be it!

At your peril then

Here are

The oracle’s very words:

“Go weed your garden,

Before the weeds

Grow roots

Beyond the reach

Of your spade.”

King Oedipus:

What weeds, what roots

Are you talking about?

The harvest season is over.

The harvesters are already

swinging their malets

of harvest

And loosening the corn

From the its ear.

Prince Creon:

The weed, Great King,

Is a man.

It is a man

Who flees from death.

It is this rabid rabbit

who must be

Eradicated from Thebes.

The maids did not

Name him.

We must discover him

For ourselves.

If we fail, Thebes

will be renamed Death.

We will then become

And be cursed

As the hiding place

Of murderers.

King Oedipus:

A murderer in Thebes?

Where?

Prince Creon:

It is no secret,

King Oedipus,

That before you

Came to Thebes,

Its King was King Laius,

The grandson of

King Cadmus,

Thebes founder.

King Cadmus killed

The guardian serpent of

the Citheron

Mountain range.

The Serpent,

Claiming

Mother Earth’s Protection

Lied about

the whereabouts

Of Cadmus’s sister Europa.

Whom Zeus, a fake God,

had raped,

then fucked silly.

Unable to bear children

Europa was whoring

At the holy temple

at Corinth.

King Oedipus:

I’ve heard of this king.

But leave his story

for another day.

It is our duty now

To find the killer.

Who of you,

Knows where to start looking?

Is there a trace

Of the murderer anywhere?

Prince Creon:

We must begin

By looking

among our own.

We must query

The least suspected.

King Oedipus:

Was King Laius killed

In Thebes

Or while on a hunt?

I’ve heard

That a herder of elk,

Turned into a hunter,

Angered

for having to slay

His elk to pay taxes,

Killed Laius.

Prince Creon:

King Laius had

a secret randezvous

With persons unknown,

Perhaps some traders

From foreign lands.

The meeting took place

In the wood.

King Laius never returned.

Neither did his body guards,

But one.

King Oedipus:

Secret meeting are risky.

What did the survivor say?

Did he tell what happened?

How many were

the attackers?

Prince Creon:

The survivor suffered

From a concussion.

He could not remember

Anything clearly.

He did say that

The King was buried

In a wallow

of wild pigs

The man promised

To lead us to the grave.

But he was soon poisoned.

Therefore, we could not

return the king’s holy remains

to Thebes.

King Oedipus:

So the poisoner

Lives among us?

Did the man have a wife?

Prince Creon:

He was not married.

Before he was promoted

As a tax collector

He used to clean

The king’s

Livestock barns and privies.

King Oedipus:

Was there an investigation?

Price Creon:

We did find a butcher,

A man

A kitchen maid

Pointed out to us.

She had been laid

on the butcher table

Once too often.

She believed that

A marriage bed was better

A buffalo cow

hooked the butcher

on her horns,

when he came

after her calf.

The butcher died.

King Oedipus:

Thank you, Creon.

That will do.

Dear, Thebans!

Whoever killed King Laius,

Endangers us all!

We must catch this monster,

Who hides among us.

Our Jerusalem,

Our sanctuary,

Our refuge

from enemies abroad,

must be purified.

Mothers and children

must be

able to walk safely

Thebe’s streets again.

Tiresias:

Rise, Thebans!

King Oedipus

Risked his life

And liberated us

from the Sphinx once.

We must trust that

He will do so again.

Strophe:

Dearest, Sun,

Goddess of hope,

Come, shed your light,

Over all being.

May our king

Recapture his Godhead.

Antistrophe:

Tiresias,

Why curse you not

The hunters’s king,

The cowardly master

of ceremonies of

spectacles of blood?

How many elk have had

Their throats cut

And heads nailed to walls?

How many of our soldiers

Have been hung

by our neighbors

By their legs from rafters

and made spit

Their own testis

into the dust?

Why must laws

Made in the city

Overrule nature?

You used to speak

For the Sphinx!

Have you swallowed

Your tongue?

The youths of Thebes

Now call you

Uncle Jerk.

Tiresias:

Fools!

Did you not hear

Me tell the King

That children

(young and old)

will praise him

If he lays down

his life for them?

EC 601 at http://esoschronicles.blogspot.com/

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)

*God—see Post Script

(A retelling of the story of King Oedipus)

Episode 2

Strophe:

Praise, praise!

A great welcome

to our Savior!

Your name,

King Oedipus,

will be in our songs

For ever!

Though you step

With a limp,

A thousand children

Run for joy!

No more will their bodies

Lie rotting at the foot

Of the chasm

And send horrid odors

To tthe Sphinx’s nostrils,

and send tears

To God’s eyes.

King Oedipus:

My dear children,

My sons and daughters.

Cityzens of Thebes!

What disturbs you?

Why do you listen

To conspiracy theorists

And fake fairy tales?

All is well in Thebes.

Our city is growing

By leaps and bounds!

You can see and tell this

By the fast

disappearing forests,

And the fields

Of golden grain

And rings of

Well deserved

Gold swinging

from the tassles

Of our belts.

The treasury of Thebes

Is brimming.

Your taxes

Are decreasing

As Earth rewards us

For being her good.

Why are you

Listening to this frog,

This preacher,

Whom I blinded,

Yet let live,

When I freed your children

From the yoke of sacrifice?

He’s but a conspirator

Against your welfare!

What is it

in his croak

That compels you

To come and listen to him?

(King Oedipus turns toward the preacher.)

You, there, frog,

In the white shirt,

I’ve forgotten your name,

I think that you

Have croaked

Your theories

long enough.

Why do you disturb

These good people

Of the wood?

Why do you take advantage

Of their shy nature

And come speak

As if in their place?

I hear no pleasing thoughts

From you.

Perhaps the time has come

To stuff you

Up a hollow log

And burn?

The priest:

Mighty King

Of sacred Thebes!

My name is Tiresias!

I feel and, therefore,

I speak

On behalf of the herders,

Whose herds are

Being driven over the cliff

For the sake of

By your tax collectors.

Even donkeys

are being killed

for their skin.

True, your warehouses

are full of elk furs.

Your fields

of golden grain,

King Oedipus,

Have shorn the land

Of its forests,

Gone are the elk.

Their milk

used to sustain us,

Their pelts kept us warm,

The fur about

their mother’s teats

that gentled the noses

of her calves,

Made our pillows.

Thebes was our Jerusalem.

Now Thebes

no longer is Paradise,

She’s but the rough whore

Who used to ma-damn

The women of Paris.

See, O mighty king,

The people pray

To be free

Of your unholy city.

They would rather sleep

On the moss of the forest

With their herds,

Than alone

on the cold streets

Of New York

Among humanized  beasts.

O King,

Pity your people!

See how they

Prostrate themselves

Before the altar

That in its depths

Hides the dream

Of the garden of gold

You’ve taken from them.

Of course,

it is not gold they seek,

But in their hearts

Filled by emotion

And devotion,

Call on the Sphinx

To return!

See, O King, their offerings

of butter, cottage cheese,

And honey.

There is olive oil

Flavored with garlic,’

And loaves of bread

Broken and crusty.

But the Sphinx

Fails to come.

Only flies and wasps

Come and make think

Something is awry.

O king,

There is talk,

That you,

Meant to be

the God of Thebes,

may be

at death’s door;

the Sphinx

will return only

if the sacrifice

Of children is renewed.

Smell the incense’

Of burnt feathers

O King,

your servants burn

to cover up the smell

of rot that comes

from your leather factories.

King Oedipus,

You saved us once

(so we believed),

Come save us again!

Though you put out

My eyes,

It is but a small loss

If you come to offer

Your life

in place of our children,

be they infants

or soldiers.

King Oedipus:

What blathering nonsense,

Old man!

Maybe you feel,

But you think not!

I think,

Therefore I am King.

(King Oedipus turns toward the supplicants.)

Dear children,

I have forethought

And sent

Prince Creon,

My right arm,

And the Queens brother,

To the temple of the Sun,

to consult with

The daughters of the Sun.

The maids will read

The message of the acorns

Thrown at my inauguration.

Now grown

into saplings.

The wisdom

Drawn to leaf

By the oak’s deep roots

Will reveal to us

What ails Thebes.

I trust,

It is nothing but

An unholy conspiracy

Which this

unholy old frog

farts and disturbs

with stink

Our ever growing city,

The center of

Human creativity.

Tiresias:

(O! O! O! O Gods!

O hear! Hear the lie!)

O hear!

The guards are

blowing their horns.

It’s likely Prince Creon

Has returned.

King Oedipus:

Let us hope,

He brings good news.

Tiresias:

I hear his footsteps.

If there’s a smile

On his face

The news is good.

King Oedipus:

Greetings, Prince Creon!

What news bring you?

Prince Creon:

Greetings,

great King Oedipus!

How goes it in Thebes?

Indeed, I bring news.

Very important news.

Let us go inside

The fort.

While I brush the dust

Off my sandals,

I will tell you,

the message

the daughters of the Sun

have asked me

to bring Thebes.