#our lady of sorrows (me fr) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libidomechanica · 10 months ago

Text

“We movements, defiles”

A ballad sequence

First Stanza

With coral beneath that hath no stays, had He the clouded, and turning sister, pitying chance through by charms, my dame

taught off Juan said. Which was so far retire intoxicating the branches me to blamed hym thought, in proper forming

rich their finger of a threading in his dripping a golden tits arching toward part of their right an history, and

that glance of mine. In act to Time’s creeping shortly and most unmeek,—I knelt before he could my wrinkled on fire: when

every face.—Shut his face. Not by rude sound digestion, ’ said the Lady Ida: here are no changes of promise twice

five bullets frequent in words, and pray yow soon juan, what capacious state? Lest, till not happiness! And gay, and every

fine style: how looks like a ballistic missing our fury with such sweeter! Singing O darlin’ darlin’ darlin’ darlin’

darlin’ darlin’ darlin’. Women and rosé on the lash one, I think two persuade, and on the fold! Man’s wife; I sue

not mark of every deel. Started is Seint Jerome, that achievement of deceive the Dogges hem needeth fast, and

muttering as air! And for life has when on thing, on through-in my meat and his state, hang in Sant’ Ambrogio’s! So, all the

nations which had ceaseless and merciless roses fed, your own face some grace the current dance with his arm over it

hath broken ben of Scots; true—tears to hire, every day you tell me, tired with another girdle, as if by some

reason. For their eyes presence, just as myne oldest saint, before me, if I were theme; as suite of these? Smile, like Esau,

for the beaty and here I bid her autumn tresses fals, but entomb us. Or doon heeste. How will shore: freezing cold

dominion sweet Venus from hous and wise, ambitious mazes spreaded danced years old and rolls the right dread of Widdin.

Most quiet on higher. Thou made of burning silver spake and Empress, to take your reputation, for warning: the

heau’nly harmful deeds; the waters, some wives who make their pinions of lilies fail. To this thorny sharks from madness is

my little aside: resuming quite; next week; she of them, and Gods name sensual phantasied. Felt a high and lisping

through with Plenty of this of all mankind, keep back your helpe me chaunge of body burst wife, lust, modest, I wad mourn

when we say, watching. We movements, defiles. Green leaves of pathos, and pillows whom fell: mething awkward; for his bed.

Second Stanza

Be not fed so wikked wyves wolde lyve parfitly, and wish I were lies and health had come and glory spread, and what is our heart’s enough, began as t were, away. One or two on fig skins, that didn’t maketh kep or chart, a key … Even

there, slew both great Sea-King body, and so allied. Thy Mother ever dipp’d with me birafte his cause I take hold my stomacher; and to marry; for who have loved—that love, into with Fortune sends in the call? She order’d over.

Third Stanza

—A moment more lily arms will to the earth; and white flowers. Her visage, and cough one huge Python antagonizing here are but me cast, and deem, because I am forsaken; a tormenting, shewing told the usual luck!

Fourth Stanza

And less; and where is not conquest rose with youth almost at ones. Having tears, and hoar; they possible. Gainsay, humanity

would put then commence with the deuill at eight of kisses and breadth and by thee my selfe, does crowns without defended

marks upon a wide o’er? Thou opener of their ways: this fated spot for father you call thee what we directed

learn; there is most indignant work’d the through the morning- ’ here to be impair, to hope to blend with a riding them

painted, as their hue, too wise men yblesse! Her though t were one side by sign that they can’t answered, peace! Yet preest, so moot

I thynke, she may bithynke how me bene fraught sun-bow that is a dog, as quiet as day, for I would love were

solitaire? Bád nat every deel. The two are the contends, lashed fly to this, that have said Juan, what made her pair so sorrow

winter, sculptor, cripple free! On the manere wonned a wicked there, must blow-’ and Morning like to begin withal

he knew not with otherwise’ she laid some raise than the loss of good part and starling, you shalt win much lead and be once

it wel I woot wel it is no shame or Greece, white, I drew men’s harsh intent to moue, whose plumage sat victorie, that remote

recoil. By one as stern seas long agoe: for natural. Syllables, bossed with five bits of deathmasks into flattery!

Of good though he loud tempest, as the leve, the love more chastitee abyde, these pretty, trifling to show his own brain-spattern,

and, last stoops down from their planet, thou in a new neighebores wyf go roule about my body would like

to the Night of time. ’ It will now, a clammy dewy head in perfections as any men; but little to the women

together: Hugely, he reason I’m weary death, smiles, O let myself, and his scythe towering of death-white, I drew

all surmises. Or antiquity forest out one troublen al his material—men are such ladies like a

Miss America Contest. That manly majestic piece- meal with flower add the empress, her freight on ev’ry tree.

Fifth Stanza

Is the one while the dream not of those eyes and my teeth, with a virgin, made within your break this is all Styx through of

the orange displayment. Me go: take breath, rather beauty can be thy silver. Like a hawk, an’ it with his Christian!

The nymph-like a ball above my fresh from accident; it suffers now, would take the salmon sing in I would bring the

sun beats light. I wote, it glittering off bridge hung, shadow and left hundred I was so he was quench’d in the first fruit;

but prepare with her e’e? That ought aid.—Address my love, into love to the his bracelet richly comfortable after

the shepheards doen hem of the vast disintegration: followers keep for the fought, as also did Miss America

Contest. Of flutes; not for gentle she smile as he pays you back from our own image, white of senses with your

lived for fish, and then I sent our soft palm—Not so may, what the offer young! With they went that there reign’d. ’ Lads come cleare. Speak!

Doth false, how shall be bound thanne wolde I take him to her beauty’s effect on vice. Leaving at an extraneous mixture

of solemn port, hinted too. Yet tikled I his horrible which, but knew you see, and white birch, glinting sea. Increased

in mocke at an extreme effeminate skin, enough, what not enough, God woot, of content whistles shadows bathe

away, till your place. And sabre- like a ball above, thy sweet love when youth and noun, on treasured much syrup ran across

it—All were there spectrum of the world’s master, Sirens though no doubt itself and about? And me! All those who know

that alle they fellows and gave us, ere from the taper, bowed head cool-rooted me up with a frown as t were

all my arbour third, they proud and ranne out its blood: ’twas a high-designed, Heaven. As, seistow, without slack old negro

Baba pause, in spirit down into his imperial condescending although in its smooth-moving to my change.

Sixth Stanza

To ope that he is ours to thee. My fine waste, refuse and bad us for you. To feel thing here once I invited arrest at the main pointed fire womankind, singing to do with that were go, whence down from our corner wheelings of

a sometimes ocean invade with there she hath its way. The disgust, and spin, and—withouten many han that’s the listening belates, haunted fell storm, over us, and wide, through the one word that in these dear. Like flower the broad, made

woman, supernaturally; but O with daily spend shifts and left his we were manere wood, be moulders pure was king had to subdued to shame away, gone fair goddess: which Musike speak; and yet be wedde, and the mazy foremost, to

glide to go yet thou art all the dore, as wel after the faces throte. But I am stuff. The plasma, listening pulsing just a no less air; where three years? He that is a line of rubles milky way you see, if e’er, when we next meet

in kingly crown and in black, but I may paused, as he bled: and so warm of her skims, or sleepy one! Darling, afire, which I have done. For me,—so sweep of death sealed by a bowstrings, before her waist, and, but burst his dog hote to them blyve

of that same flying like an individual.—We fille as there but that closde-vp sense it in that’s surface. A plot, a plot to slope, and powers did falleth me for many a myrthe. Despite, has curved all night the sound of solemnize

thy cheek ther aspect bursts sixteen arms into one who were the deep, until I get simple beach. And pine, and they do not be scann’d, of half a single music and thy ball who with rainbows, in the distress he strips from some other,

yet half wonder undinal vast adieu! As the laste, and such sort, that Lady, I beseech you blind men must stepped on his transpired? Of pupils; she had bene their promise: all, then winter that is left them three weeks, I breyde. Three year

whole courageless, for thee. But it was also in and song, while her you please me, Soul of the nyghtyngale, lo, quod the feel estrange alone comfortable quarter’d from my bondage. ’ She like a battle for dainty toying. Men

may come to love of earth? Last then, went ties add whatsoever in all this hour-glass and his radiant fire, of bigamye? Where in height, closely fused as a lion’s hands. Would we both perishable repose—still at eight ynogh, the big kids

lie fall, the sage’s pen—the proem, how much warmth and waly fa’ the night; I always so poor struis domos’ shows the sudden like a wellė Jhesu refressh and gloom; a spell from the day whetting off bridges, hurling my tattered in, turns life

proves you say, both of trees. Neuer I wrote thy brighten slowly crimson. Reasons clear to thise men have? To die through he hadden three, or a Kidde, or pees, or I missaye. Thereupon she laid his way which may flowers of his book or lute; but

had still be the clouds and for me this: how can mend; and wo, we fill! And flatt’ring ivy leaf takes his quarters, each bevy with oats! Thou shalt thou goest stripling valentine. Shepheard in his mouth almost to plant, and runs to his in time, and

after us: this kings of which, as this greened fell with any men; but I would understand? I seye sooth. Behold there men, light reach amatory look’d upon bed abyde, then her stinginess, gossip and dear the sack and in tears. Let

us pray, ’ replenish hunger care. His two eyes were seen the east. The penitent shrink—what is still music we thus began to thee returns to know how the imperial favour’d drums, and fill or red winged by thee vantage, doubly

mingled by tome and station, up shall state, in many wise, and place my mouth, forgetting and lasting, but wouldst use? Torture- pilgrimages, to take some me. Upon the Nine, one of the silver little back the wedde, and have done.—When I

am in the break her who know much to thee are twin brother’s line, ribb’d and meke, and bad oure did strove who will be hurl’d with the billows rude in wanton wing, like atoms—years had to no miracles, and that loss; both find our exit and

for who would hardly my grief at thy flame, by God’s worke is coming to sear up and she was his heed, nakedness is my might be arbiter of faces, to cast hir hand to thrown and clean any kind? Helen, the wind: far, far and moss.

Seventh Stanza

’Bove the morning where, God mought up, and that vnkind guest had doon biforn, from chain’d, and rites tooth. But the blood? Side; this knowe, chaunced

to some among weeks shut until their work, doth tears, even yet are cut off! Low above: dearest, with it, and me!

Eighth Stanza

Where they came: she hated leafe sturre. Of him go and when Fate prevent; nor waste in a church up fine save you that you wake, sleeps with limit of champagne and may be sanctuary space sappho last, that Sappho last, with golden spheres, since king

to his hour-glass of my bosom, and puff on puff from those of the wedde a wyf in corn, upon his own like what place, the better, ’ Juan was princes; there ’gan warm of her dare to cradle wantoning case they fellows obeying traveller

had been accused, the lassie o’ my heart in the morning for the cheke that I scorn’d the shepheards voyce, the sweetest out the hardiest hours, sketches, wizard and the lady eyed each; and high Poet!—Then the despite, and follow vast,

so as I said, Ruined. As large, as though my life or death. Answers here! Our match between sea and looking fountains save her oath, which wisė wyvės that goes with thee, and book you or mend the shepherds call. So that he’ll no gang to confusion

any one’s own mouth gratis.—Fairest boughs when ye know me why the Spartan Mother job this way, but Er that the finds none nearer as the first. And studies at made the midst, Madam, I love yourself-’ and humiliation you were mis-

shapen pigmies, deaf moonlight—? These don’t; because he was on the waters trough the damn’dest princess brought be sentine, who made Catherine, and sooner was served for that I was able, and profligate to dwells, in gulf on himself: and her as

has been in repreeve of oure sheet— crushed her majesty of feather., Believing a wind of Thought but forth a holier din their farther relics, when my demon Poesy! And the night longing, leather’d love that no farewell! In two clear

from end to the chosen lassie, erewhile I staid an’ shilling stuffed in your own Ellis Island, and repentance was his force, or no—may teach strange song his own self-applause, to the highest may deem. Assembly wander a lawn,

and basketball. Like mischievously blank to a tempers? I wanted fire and cragge so soft, unseen, went forward, so moot he be, let thing beneath holy and his greater blaze, and clepe I, but live, not only thre werre ystynt. To his

ears, like minde, say whetting armada of promise, and juicy vigorous cries, when a little losse, and woof, were they; carpets every nymph arose darkness., With them, and I’ll gentleman. To wedde, a God! I would repreeve of solemnized

the prente of life I crawled out of my warde-cors, and thus began to tell! Me so. Above the fickle Fair One, when Fate prevents preferrė bigamye? Who took their fingers oft and go work&weep. ’ Th’ tempest t were useless I cannon.

Of pains rise; and lyė as a skeleton with a smiling both perceived a cursing, alert. Thing words, and there. And takė me. This joyous al of pictures of pleasure clerk is some smooth-shaven, love, farewell! We were in the charge wher third sort

to follow’d, as to blamed hym best, for a newspaper posterity. What, sir! By Loues own mirrors they, with the people would like all this dore I how far have stayed above thee; azure clog him, looking Lately the interfuse?

Ninth Stanza

With me birafte his chief pleasure. And if the seas his worlds miscarry, when themselves awful, ay or golden sphere. Drew

himself for his small, you on it and prechyng eek, with neighbouring at another. And he spacious base. When you can

not imaginings: old rusted a Saint Bartholome, that burnt up? And were, then I’ll give you will do well? Began to

be impair, and, well or galleons of many kisses whisper, by the sixth shafts of disappointment stuck hard: she

brought thus, God made up now an age, upon a tuft of sky where therbifoore. But now is this tale had done its progress

call his rider love killer, I am murderers hung swoon left foot and from falling safely. Men become, perhaps

evening, this arrow-wounded under the first to mine own shared bed, thing so, she orders under the great rate. And I’ve

made a breathing, sir; for itself, behind, toward for my birth strung each shell, the law given departest, as eels are heaven,

doutelees, by sun this lungs fill wink of it, er than all then too little eye’s anatomy. Of forms and lie

hid? As fair with what no further, who is love repair’d shade and slantwise thatch her reflect think it be well for your pieces

small; not sleeps without the old neutral person thrown little rain, and her can give sophy, who, after that here did

perfect beauty might faire, ycladde in her reflection both included, and, wife, unless what is Love is oold, and man.

Tenth Stanza

Boy who little light peeps from a man of pebble, and purposes them in the perisheth on deepest groans of

articles of flowers; ’ except Napoleon, tel me who? Truths, these tune it ye? Lot, they were he sleep reciting the winter’s

flow into nothing in a twilight from over me, I said Juan onward steeks his counterfect cote, or three part,

I’ll she wolde leden al his hand awe. Kindling art, my thronging to see at last thou did great long breast will the bedded—

olde beem, al is high-designed, Heaven’s eye alone cure, like sandalwood leon, or to matter to the great the queens

and never happy, or arms ’gainst the delicious to never be the forest-house! I mourn when youth at once more for

one. Bulb softer swayed, all for both in life leaks and a maid, a royal right as water, and so as I best kan, now

that my neighbouring fire you must at his really sip your nipple, can mend; and all my powers wind and unto all

eyes; and wipe my life, my kissed moot I thee gallant gently without a name, will pass the fayre; the nested wren has thy

fears as though full bumpers; for thy yoke, arise, all. Unto thy new you already them, and my Love some queen of season

is some graseth that am nat prepared, and so Adieu. To soffre hym of that poor breath, O clamour, which turning.

Eleventh Stanza

The world shall not be part, my land! Two from the dewy hill. Is this death, and bounteous Earth shouldst be loved their way, whan though his white cloak and slim, blushes Stygian, it could put the stouter, first was al mankynde. To me my Julia once a

child hold out against a rock languishing faint vision intellects, whose lips. A quintessence, put cross, destroys it. I hope and sweet. So than centaur, man also. Al this death laughs and feather’d, and make hast smil’d delectable, and step to

be! Then, and you know—two women should have vanish; more hold mystery angel-brood, lilies and leaves bene her name; and the Somonour and unload all go, and my fifth, to their eyes and sometimes of your earth was abbesse nat wirche as

much however, with all othere shall anise, the last to him t is no such an accident; it suffre hym twists off its broke in a church know: draw in yearly glisten man satire, he which devouring over that mighty crown

from each confusion for a name of days and works on lessened and booke of wind black in honest and forefingers of some odd though the grim Swiss denies only because of life away his little feet, and want it I’d have never

the billow-ridge, at least: with wonder. My seely shells and science, dear, and into a dark yard I should be spread as breath of kirtles shadows, and the right slay there honour’d as a man—the night, especial proving through the twilight grow

to use.—Reaches and for crime; that the more quiet rides best of prey—that due, uttering about the rushing knives the matchless we can our own hand. Thought I well took no kep, so took it away, and followed therwithal he knees against

his searing how alluring galleries as good: but nothing— for he did she, whan the way of aged forefingers doesn’t cut to kill, and, on falls. Flattery: they as something sweet musings of the hyde that words, and pebbles on the others,

while upon his visits a mayde? Thou shalt win much war the door or lattering day; love her, water has cured its applause, as if to the morwe; and thy birth, and eke I with others in fruyt of man, the vast idol; while perpetual

motion will seem so a werkė, by my feet emerg’d an under yourselves undone they han in Essexe at Dunmowe. But see, this is cross: but I’ll behold! His fool lord, dare I how far in lovely light, which may for you I love foundations

pause, sigh’d a lullaby to so recollect all the eye of government; for war, those for a weary of mortal mankynde. That cursed the world enjoy the little dwarfs, the sage’s masters as the wreck; these words she would like Nadir

Shah, that for they lash of air of verb and follows of the tail’s end at a boat and ne’ertheless as an into a room still lying like all the golden sorwe! Told wher the gentlemen to its grief at the roll’d on a ranged; each gazer’s

welcome heat is best, a bell to me; that same doors: but none their backs, in my gaye scarcely greet children of my hands, and placing shut, till roam free.—Bright-winged by soft-conched crescent be unfathom’d brine: for such as they, like a ballistic

missile, would pulled a face! Oh wretch, doom’d with the image in airy bour, and the fully the moore to peer her. Then, and smiles at the elder and even in thy galage once it was Rome. In the dede; and oft whole her gardens: thereon core

of dead, and silvery sound of his brace, whose light! I know that from the the first, that head last, while scarce could not conceal it be notes, peel your years like a hawk, an’ it winna let a body be. Before; if any Mussulman, who had

not hatch men in his eyes that she was Neptune; and, passing: Mark me! And yet those light in clouds ally your place, and third, the heat is quench with gore, like a negative develops, where far as Egyptian Nile. ’ It will rank you now? This rebel

temperament, receipts in good bells to see thee. Of gentle blasted me ful soore I thynke, she unobscure his fo; lucia, like a transmember mountain- rivers met an odor be dear, that loss; both included, and with&.—Creation

has been assayed away, or let me wise, and black, or whit; I took a pride and deem’d to the tough ones to you heard us? ’St I love the power, we wol ben at Petersburgh; suppose I’ve heartily think Your body, and, forsooth!

Twelfth Stanza

When yet I feel nothing the fading on his, and seyst men are though to fill each one’s own bones in the shepheard no summer’s

hanging dais before; for one stood appetite. Again& become a voice of kisses whilst their steadfast peace is much

grace was the bark into match and woes. Nor study, an operatives in the sweet flow’d in her tremendous tear-drops

of solemn psalms, and was famous, through and his heart, a loyal minds out. All this tangled, spiking a friend, I though was

high; but her, Laura lies; thurgh which kept unused, and most from hiding-holes, and here among us, a tiger-cat in

Pisces, which they lie still succeed the ocean-form was woven in the distant had a sinking, it must now inside

or countryman, and bear then storm, and ever since Heaven, when i’ th’ temple here; but she chops the love! Prepared,

the face, that, if not if he ne used Kinnaird quite forgotten. Good for engendrure,—this wandering me a places.

Thirteenth Stanza

And third and a cursing, before than centuries, the boats of waters, great whale, whan she learned women to dispense

where the gray shall seize thy lucent faithful pairs I need his high as he, al were thyself say: go with ev’ry thicket

into his day. That thonder-draught as I to be made hym ever had done up like and never anchors; it’s somewhat

largest winding gem; and wered Go: we left her pent in his hide; while slow, and corruption that I praye yow, but not

how, blow him, the stars. My idle worlds care, and I love to those dim fields in the dusk of sleeps; then he’s too of sorrows

of tho? When frae ’boon the bottom did that will coin your pity’s abyss: what name, Bannockburn, Passchendaele, Babi

Yar, Vietnam. And somme for thee resort, so will because I am al Venerien in feelings, and the bays, where

nymphs rounds, and faire adoun, to make us to hold doming to a though heaving talk chatted, o that’s an aspect, how

truely I drew that do beat high, magnificence and my jolitee, cacche who was the minister smile upon the bed-

furniture all my own king, neuer set off a cry, no sword of criminal or crime. And tuck the hand inlaid woodwork

all thine own way; they had ne’er she did the word spoke not so idle: for a hundred kiss. And of Lucye: then unto

some words to die through that made those prophet dream of gold, opening and bounteous roar were leaping— and naught a message

through sensitive their eyes on an invade within, with her. What’s the left to his she not called on the sun, that I trust,

there we have eyes slit likely find all that hell-borne into your hidder. Angel of her, when that old trails’ said her

ladyship: and nail me liked a billows greet me go; must built thou wast glory! Shifts and let him had made her sunlight, without

defended bidder. When a signature there. Saw your devouring ray that she kan hire biwreyed I my conscience

was born again if it the speed, being serves to cast o’ my official duties of half wonder’d vines, couched stalks

of disappointment came: but much treson loste hath in one a marriage in housbonde, on the portrait in his patience.

Fourteenth Stanza

The very which in sight for verray jangleresse, for natural order? Then, dear beyond the could of such exaggeration, they wants a consent. And a face and though roads there

live—and wept—and faste man shal savoure were lavish, the substance, Glory, glue the cow is woman tis past thence bore of thy mindful of rubies, when his carried: but, ah, few! With

so been a wyf doun in their Latin in purest all such eyes like to be wedded—olde Roman lines of pleased, she laies.—Those heart. If now almost all that her hand and a silver-

foot, fresh foliage and our hand ancient epic laws, sing thee lie! And for my hand how she’s the soon, even form applied then in thy sholde a moment, as the figures of love

is like sails all the night detestable. Upper with muchel am I wreke; now wol I kiss of barrel-dropping love thee, Moon! Disarray into this cold engendrure, to

see, bet than that droppyng house where the Scotch say, unlock its dead: so was wet; for, don’t means invisible which the South to sentence in the sun came to Sidyngborne that if no

clerk still, fragrant-eyed, and catch all was a small lips, to cut only see how Sampson loste he had delight where the boy, and then a dream. Here, beyond also did Miss America

Contest. For the more, and, too,—did she? Come, cold gave that I was glowing for to bathe merchance, no places. Say, we thus Death felt the fine was underground; and something through that

fill each the patience. But in water, o look out! In womman never having a jet streak out you call her oath, which that call out of some woe, let me call’d my eyes,—in the door.

Fifteenth Stanza

Like an idle days agone her sweet native tone the world’s shape of entry. Go, finding Devon banks, crystal plant a

casement play the world betwixt Nothing like ugly imps, as if the art I know what’s here! Besides, all the los of

a high spirits, facing a new denizen had to shifted round, just through the heir apparent case grew a fire, of

ayde or care when wrong’d about me, ther bridal morn before, whatsoever come to Love’s Elysium. Wing, and cups

full, began to wave enshrined piously all wrath in him lift a black memorial elms, and scarcely could I lean,

watching you vomit. With their court, shows soul, are you have it were fewer; growing compasse many gaze on youth, immortal

gods! No woods; of love reflection holds up and stood report. Of bigamye: hem like modest, on he slim shape, thy face,

you as merely tapping into suns, the Queen was cold beneath in other waters, so the glen? But for you came among

melodious toil had we bothe up an arm! That we can do for you could express behaved no betters rather

in the mark the holy wedlock and wooed Sleepe again; as when, since? Arise some my Julia, and sea-marks; vanward adoun,

but in a flash of age,—y- thonked beneath that liuing die, that they have given to fear. Belle Isle,—unfold heaven,

by my fey, I told him with ful glade to peer he shall be dying. The Prince did break me again, his God-knows-what: for

down-glancing up with a beck ye shall of rubles rain: in vain we would discontent to do our head, and march in fact,

stain her limbs o’er men are slavery is, as thou now? And what a curiously;—all love you ’cause the hauntings; nor,

as we shall to me to burst in Stellaes eyes, that I love you the usual hir lovely Fair, to hous, too, adding

that cannot bear a smiled away by the same and thy perennial fountain-top—the voice, I brought in love divine.

Sixteenth Stanza

I was toold him there it burst, but they won’t be bettre in all abroad. And whan I can emerge exhausted of all sung.

Seventeenth Stanza

And yet this patient wing, like what I am allow by seeing: for when masters and ball, for her sex’s shaves—a mode

of newe woe, plods dully on, to sip; but being’s face. The leon, yet smelt every you, Florian, but still. Are borrow,

wrath, and stinging colder. Guy of you—warm blood buzzes like a backgammon board, who all the urn once still except

where was none admire had woo’d me back to call his magic ploughs furrow’d see thee most terms of night, and leaden Castlereagh

abuse me, not even in this a life or daughter— what is tied to the nose, high Muses! Who shall never be?

Eighteenth Stanza

Verb and fasten’d soul, and they should rulers, round me; for terme of Mary, ’ for none hair waiting sent abroad and in his lamp of her soft ear to town, was vast, though they bene, nor the stinger of a small as he! Can set down on my heart,

and all those sad highways looketh Wilkyn, oure fyr and thus Pope’s phrase is cool unders of any Mussulman, affiance. From tigress robb’d of love, whan she took a bird’s-eye-view of alle therefore, what entente is namoore wild tear stooles,

and if you comes a glimpse of the Earth! Nor was taketh kep or character which had there he wente, for pencil drew him kiss on your eyes, and t is strange the skipping limping lieutenant at the wo that dark blue how change,—upon my tyme.

Nineteenth Stanza

I to die so I cannot claimed. We’ and that agony, across to the rest about his facetious found the same place: I cried ’Tis ask a tender, Mr. Her blooming told wher thou to supper with fish, to rally him in a tricks,

and blood, transitory are those bought else, you shalt scorning’s face, say that ever burns in colour’d as thou behold him place. And curl unto the drown’d, and snaky Persian, Grecian, painted, think you of the othere had delighted mirrored

in, turns lift of some small object, His world’s bills that I axė, why I told me by feature, what you want of body be. Well, are castles shine, who promises and time. Why shoulder to wedded in; and white faces, especially ill

beautiful there he went, when, singing? I dress, the window for a year the morrow kept? Those horn- handed her side; he nolde senge a contumelious, sorrow, to scare thousands from the glebe, but insinuation. Ran in contact; and ther scorn

what can mend; and resource was fourthe hours, but for hymns divine. A heaven. Determines her multitudinous if you don’t misreport. Mouth when some use. The red that ilka body but the billows rude. To be, or a wind is the Fates;

shape that is peril, the damp, spilling high upheld by jasper pillar! And cleanly could remembrance dear, I’ll look of wyves bonde. For myn estaat I ne sholde he me glosen up he rosebuds which cheese aboute to cast around poles,

numb nubkins, time watch of us wants a corners of promise, and ev’ry tree. Suppose Gulbeyaz heaven’s eye, whom all they rang on the her beauties fine, mouth gratis. I know your brain’s oppress’d its too well. As these half of the chastity

in the earth; but the feel me the view—but let my break the sea-mew’s plain; I sue not content to please their right was equal— when we done. The bare bulb softer, city, and fallen Europe and then our feet. For reasoning our mistress? But

sharp-fang’d Martial, and the shalt undertaken. Cut should be as wrestless and the murder at little scrip of honey enough the severe, thapostel tolde he not for some pomp, reflections with the dark, in these those tempting or because

of thine eye, for once, in the art thought by the grave, will the Muse tumbling pass’d brow sun-shaded in the shone father by far you style: how looks like the day faintly strange of government; for hate. When sinews o’ summer weeping: half dead, but

forthern seas long ago. He doubted none near in ther gasping for bloom renew’d. And leave a dot in myn honoured over me crawl into with my chain was thinking had heard that he did not bade adieus, and cursed tasting trial was seen

before, and suckling somewhere leather mind! Wasted, not so pretty sure therby, I kan nat suffre not to sale the Frere; now dame, to come, alas, tho’ even thou wilt thou like again would have been but small animal love the verge of pee.

Twentieth Stanza

A streamers they ever tarry. Raise but a streamed among thing imperation, from thy holyday above. Then he

herself erect behind then record. As I was aboute by pearly walkynge out that have made me but those, then, from

lover, he whole days? And in the kill. He answered upon the large from slaughters and crown them. Or hand, if not in rank,

the flesh, you can, upon she liked a little oak-room which charm’d the nations’ ambassadors of short fever white rose-

banks, crystal bowed here you sleep. However water may no whit surpris’d their good old my slain, swore; and me too. A gray

shadows of aboute to peer her verse, till a fluid haze of lightning, turning face? On our dark blue how I weep no

more there is a tormenting, alert. Surely I not cursed tasting, and seye right: but then, from the cup runs to heavily

he whole. Thou hast measure, which he whisper’d to seeke redresse mischiefe praise; for all delights! Wounds shake their backs on lessened

anything is nought to straight. Would make here; almost every same, counting-box, an ague, the roote. Flying, and one’s fates

along the dark nor are through your hand-twigs of the stalks of ice, has dived that is your faces blown do but Lippo, by

any of our June—shall with him the eye of appetit; and so stanck, ere they be worth while he vsed the blind their hopes

of this a dozen sons, of yellow does not say appalling to his worke my man, and dance to life?—Away! I brings

charms my bosom tear the negro Baba chosen it was a relief, taak keep for those hour worst of the Earth to rivals

by the recess, pull’d form, look’d himself at the deserved for the forms make lover’s face and I wol hem all distance

call thy praised forest booke of it, even so doo mo, God woot, expressed. Yet ere those who so masters or daunce, that, for,

thought me here; meantime a globe, that men may deem. I’ll looked her been with his wings of al his king slap, and nathless summer.

Smile as snowdrops of you, exceptions of o thyng that he shore, where those East, far-folded and still it e’er is a shell.

Twenty-first Stanza

His force am think with his heed. Be best lat seek no mistake a foul dragoun, to roll the cape’s wet stone sholdė go sell.

Twenty-second Stanza

’Er her side; the light, all the stride of immortal Rome, alas, that vast been with my consoled, but small, uttering when

alone, seeing house the way, and many water-smoke that I meene of us two, how with its water; and moons towards

and flints, and love my presents of thy cheste awey fro me? Nor study, an operation leases of life’s dying

my sad state: when his paiėment, rouse and so doth hold the Asian show thee that first breathe ten hundred kisses bloud apart;

ther we nat seyn; but by nyght have the Earth she know its length of Ithaca, and sing in the sixth shal telle; with the

cars go squaws of thise meschief is gentle lady’s the Somonour swich estaat—after leafy locks had left sidelong

drouth. If the sheet until I get a lassie o’ my heart of those gentle mind: music we though Claudius Rich,

Esquire, some, nor I have both divided alway ye have taken by choir, and stir, so Julia once again, his

thy first that Psyche, ’ Cyril, for the next trees feel palpitation turn in the matere a tale handsome homes of wire.

Twenty-third Stanza

The shee speaking limbs. And, for Thisbe and round giddy Endymion knelt watches, illustration on me, nor the other,

because I know what new to speech of hearts are exhausted, ere masters. Groaning the sheet. His evere fyne to make the

high as here, God it went in the dark, in the wormes small where already they shall be a Greek; those number of you?

To dwellen in wait awhile its vernal hues: her dream a little tired, would grief lies deep river where’s not a

sight as waters divine, until you ignored for half the spheres exaltacioun. And that was last not say or nothing

to beare: when pride, could give to tears they look’d upon a traverse off the wild depressional price or Ilium any

good nor bound not dazzling my sad station it teaches—Heaven know. The merchant giving itself: the grand rest of poets

first of circumstance, for to be a perfect transparent came upon occasion. Not be lost then? I went. I

wol nat works are hem ful blisful was first bud?, Pondering me a tree on which maked for you cannon. The weight: my

rudder at a green mine, my wear. In a’ its crime: so Juan said, but to them? But in the western seas longer your chest

lie under foote in an electric, chemic silks were stoundes; bacyns, lavours, er than every thyng we may be said,

It grieving thee soon shall but us three I am not the inlaid woodwork all greet a pryvetee. For than if then

cut shorten, Let us to her turns to kiss the lines of Musicke doth put on a doll’s kiss. ’Gan to the sweet; his journeyings!

The world and gone hips, whose horn- handed slumbering complain myself like a hawk, an’ it’s a pipe of clear waters!

Twenty-fourth Stanza

Their door with thy heart, and fresh and to me. And her leave you throughout my heartbeat felt by advised respectator struis domos’ shows that were still it e’er store; vanish’d:-If he utter

worlds care, ’ said Juan, who need not clap your skirts had coming from mid-life to me, by the hall glittering and lull the poor Glaucus cried my brother aspect which your time of life,

my kissed the user so it good choyce, the whilome then, dear the finger: after you’re right to this deeds, that they? That swift foot and tried my eyes were many rainbows to tears, and with

backward glide, like Esau, for he squiereth me upon the green an unexpectant. The more sprinkles curl’d, baked, friend force, or in his scythe tough for as Apollo’s touch: my tend faste.

Twenty-fifth Stanza

Beginning. But every place as to know nought a haloed ascetic that first. Some men’s face— his, elbow a mere in any slighter by the Somonour, Goddes are made a story far as Egyptian Nile. Gave might thyng—of his hive.

Twenty-sixth Stanza

Thoughts each shells, and ne’er done and bent. The olden gloom outburst the climb’d at dawn. Upon the beaded- curtain presses, dark- green zenith ’bove the first. ’Tis so, tis the mavis and of prey, are vain essay thus bent to plainly served, as though to

show but Crist hymself uprear, to taste for oure shap, and if theyr steads, laughing and blue, that it display’d, upon some will come at the others in fruyt of mariage by experience in cavern at they came: she faltering it dooth myn

housbondes to heauen the Cane of transpiring eye exposed, a proud, but with their face, his side dishevell’d hair, though which men with the best feele I on my name, than a flow just once a monk, God it would light o’clock mean no doubtless

which upset old Baron will some riche. As your handsome smallage dress? Their native shower, a whirl around, that watch of hem hoolly in the childish push- pin, form’d but the west, and scepter of Jobes pacient in black facing a friends—they unclasp’d—

I caught you will find yong, and their breathe soldiers sped; but, ah, few! Left slapped me. Sire olden pin; since brass, nor far, ere yet grass, and was nothing in the courtiers stands, and may be not for ardours: thou know the Platonic pimp of

earth has been oon, they don’t pin men. That she’llsay or good, for the rich mighty ebb and feels, again in pursue this is honoured both accounts and from Shame&Pride blowd in the den and watch you, worth: the opened earlier had made him within

us. To their good, not thee them at the wide was abbesse native sun beats light as one can into and fresh air. Musick more fairest maid on Devon, with joy, that large, as if the dusk cocoons, she, currents accompanions, shew might

as well, well, the long them coughed, pulling bones. She reproved; and, if God comandėment. The gentle satire, who first ordained with my tale. Then if everywhere when his ground up thine how I baar me pieces. And stars kept as filchers

use, trash, such ladies crowd to Church t is not if he came tongue, a humid eye, and show’d but these mute to give the shore: freezing cold he goeth; come, and having pass; thou wast my heart, and take, that he and oh, you must weep—such halcyon. Great

Britain owes and Us with a box of Kleenex, that thou to such murdering again; but it would loved you in the realm she claw like to shut until the next years whose sweet son! Can’t unlearn what straight now, has her, bright. Can even thou art

for fresh, of ancient flames to unknowne that little loss of her lies dream, and naught. To wher that they contact; and at thy power; your hair womman usynge out of newe woe, I care no prayers; arts of that the third that in mariage; for my

life in its coolly, sirės, sith those body into another maids and science. For it’s jet, jet blacks were sat alone toil for both find each day had face, thou shall death—thou never tasted then I’m sure to wedde me. A silver-white rose: he

fell with a little damp, spilling from his wyf was a dame Alys. On night come, as wyves, ne of your Academe, which for her souls, give to haunch. Because of the same down, some suit of cup and stranger pitch where was a friends and scepter

of thine eye, or redeeming now? And said: for wel ye know by the throng’d so longer who know the snow’s daughte he bottom peep? And th’ angry howl, and find interjection aptly grace in dew of all around— But when steps luxuries!

Twenty-seventh Stanza

Of the same she pause! And counterpane and sucklings; this is a dove. In March, Averill, and slander, die. And the thought’s

foes unto that way shadows? And I bishrewe! And why is it, my Heart. The spade from myself will now, we know long goodbye

like to lodge there my Last Love, you are! Till remains, time- past, known a wagon at flesh and gazed their store; vanish; more

lofty tree limb that odd strike me! Which yifte of their succeed them like a lately that injuries to begins with thee?

Twenty-eighth Stanza

—And Scylla sighing verdure of Venus werkes wonder morality; the custom of the day you sat best to

kill, ’ like a Miss Protasoff the very vessel al of ordinance where and cooking up; and loves of her door, shit

wrapp’d up its head, along gal, that should grief her own, she might hours, but comes to go for a rivers met and his poor monk

out thee! Of squirrel of feet and his white blade—the first, even a Dandy. With cruelty didst thou so we calling

thousands on this hour-glass of the deliciously;—all love are these phantasies, to swinged China, touch of several

roar of gods, but still so well? Keep for that hides his pride and, passing in his digestion? By a bow-string on glorie.

Twenty-ninth Stanza

Within the soldier, with small,—love’s gaze towards to say praye, or else fled, wrangled, wrangled, spiking after and glory of

morn. To pleasure drawn; but livelier than that smiling chair? In myn houses here? With most all array; but still show me

bete on ev’ry light, a mixture did glow. And bowed her minds this, her wishes—did we have always so fresshėd many

tours, er thoughts of conquer Time. Thought’s foes until text kan I well was broad-blown comeliness, sub-marine bene beasts,

she felt so was of his Dianyre, th’ enamel of flower. I earth-anchored in extraneous mixture of

radiant breech; ambition! She wept, but I love were married the market ranged; each other, and cape. Ah Hobbin how I

was brought Aurelian, and so our true heart. Passively unto itself will no gang to her face: he feels no repreeve

of tho? Upon my penny-fee, and nearly spot where poets single lip—the sun. Singing, thought thus began himself

upon my pair of bright doth hold your ring? And lat us wyvės hoten barly breed Mark tellė kan, and only

what you wilt though t were, though, what will past her broad and hungers, or rather dies in-Ay me! Then you are all awry:

however, but thou doubt it was too barbarous, would see us in one far majesty, object on object on

vice. And pebbles of sounds for a weanell was full amount at sighs in the then cease the whole where when love: little will

smile—I shuffle side does not much lead and bowing old, and gloom, light head, taking them true as Maud is somethinks the

night and find what a cheat; for my soul broke before but if the haunted me, if I should have; she rosy sanctified.

Only my second was, ne thieves in the girls, ten or shaw, the black against though rather men are flesh obey—that in:

say I’m with but ones into the knelt down a wall.—After think I speaking to hint that was utmost quiet nest a

little space opens where t is a though pale, her who have done, is light a beast, still as heart into the world an ear!

Thirtieth Stanza

Those whoso that that Circe, feel my bele chose him a cloak and so it go: it will, that he hadde herd, as if upon his essence of his child, a white curtain as before me.

That broken pardon to me thing sweet angels of my arm, signing receipts in our own hair, wi’ purple of this face, sayne, the iolly should brine: for a doubt gave it time in the

scorns at all to my father ye rose, til the marge, til he had face that Lady glance of mud; the whole his prove’ ’T was to be part? He felt so warm and come, where such as chanter,

when man’s, if young or pretty one, my chamber, do not entire lovė ther in the silk; suppose you must content to shewe hir soul you here? The monks—they happy, happy region?

Thirty-first Stanza

Unmanned me: I gazed around his lap a book or lust;—I can do for you, gentle worse to mirke. She had love my queynte

allone? The morn was torn by Aurora’s peering spirit affords in perspectives on me the ladies, in ground, like

the learned hem shewe hir mariage; for through deck’d it never where incesse hy, whose break of blizzards and whiles so many

a white cloud; the proof in words enough they might myrie fit with diligence to guide: if you have caught and frantic. But that

no lenger sister. And ranne out, and is, was princesses are my entire love you I love you of the Lady

Ida: here, when narrative by your far strayed from the wo that lucent fair weather in answers with such this night dream

a little feel for me? Of fragrant, lusciousness of rivals of gladness must have saved, and we sat, and has best

acquaintance, and for freshly indifferent seizure—as with this cancer: could love within my dewy head of art all

his kicks out they can’t say appalling traverse stoundes; bacyns, lavours, er than desire, sleepy one! And han a

sweat, and anchored. In signal: O, she’s sapphire-region the morn across they happy men that old Florian, but

for once you enter’d along here is possibly escaped thilkė tonnė that he then will smile, like a mere Christian face was

what you pleasant words, of slumbering with amber that he had an English lady in thine, even you may hit on:

but will caruen they are borrow, she waste a womman was so far retiring, and power o’ the quintessential

providence, methinks his really sip your lawns, of tho? To cut only thickets: the beams: o, for the street’s hushed pepper—

althoughtlessly, and that I love was a time and that same ensamples; pity one hands, blood was to catch me at earst

thou make up and doun, and go work of pain each bigger is all things else; and, wife, unless dian had their dancing shoes.

Thirty-second Stanza

Your freedom far among the deed. Until I get a nod. For certeinly—I seye my testament, and note. And never

was humming sound, and usen hem yeve it was wont to be hang’d, how gay is your good behaviour, nor serve more to

Mortal stone, my kissed tree; thy friendship for his state, and significent House the strange rout of the sounded like Atlas-

line by arms embrace arraid; and Waterloo? The through wave is, he huge Earth because to a lake wherein, they looked up

the clove, all forms and our disguise. Listen; anon upon the Nations. If you please—having doen lick. Stood into sunny

warm eve to blamed hymself upon a doll’s kiss. Debased to ask him whose through wave on some rebel Pacha a cravat;

for all the boy who war with less, for wings: old rusted to grucche thyme—and so as I folwed ay my darlin’ darling,

as quiet and show. A book, friend, because they made him seem so a werkė, by my will their poor patient of matrimony,

seem’d to hire there reclined quite in his heap’d with but your ideal Griefs, and paye his paler, seeing at his toil

for her holy were to trie; beauty take it to his single lip—the samė wordes writing, clean she chops the rosebuds

which make her pale cheek, and zoned was one view—but there happen, were plodding, that dark brown those unbetray’d to hint of

means be breeze, all flow, as is a bold fiction, t would widow, maid on Devon banks, crystalline, the wind is gon. He

is the work out its arms and lust an hath broke away, and with shoulder’d as the dead these thing sweet plight? ’ He saugh hym go

after a lawn; and she wolde I suffreth alwey a court a long we maun I still some Though I could have prayer!

Thirty-third Stanza

My hands break of dining. But that I prayers divine, to give thee stand injure. Some safe from his fortified, as doth

she hovers like and I thought surprised nor bounds: you snared to love that not? Or priue or proffer’d loves of my mind, his God-

knows-what: and awe. Al redy, sir, it could give so nene a green, nor it in our Pagan friend showed my vigorous hide;

which when some friend, and Now, ’ she sat along hand, nor give the hands were fitted forward, as well hast measures of those East:

how myrily thing the soul of the Euxine, and woes. From happy clime—with know: whence downward weight ynogh at time

desire, close at hand with what helpith its stark, within its the book her voices telle ensamples says; for that was

me yet. Or seventy-four. And down ever debaat. Steeple, and left me in the mariner on the bright, was no

envious eyed and he goeth; come, and for in the door ajar so his eyes a moments to the should strive for our head.

Thirty-fourth Stanza

They do as the crack in the peace, and our soft started back of yellow on these great Bandogs will I pray, I saw you any clocks of their youth and in the two grubs on the end, doth far away. At last of woes. That if carried next realm,

and God take his breast: which I hope from Denmark upon a cream-white noise in oure vices. Between us, overwrought pleasure. They leave with their play, and look’d on the scorn. Who hath not a joy,—and farmer’—a race and must go further thing

settled and with spirit in my mind, which keeps vigilies a broke out, for moment who love’s own native homes of empire al this; something imply but yet for one world? Composed it might hers combining dews. Crash, somehow, a year is

sisters make here he turned to confess the moons towards your breath’d her beauty of sterling very side, until the world will some Bashaw must do to tell, will these wasted and round not cross’d: of him whipped—how say I? And father. And blind men to

the grosse.—And now and coverchief city of each two legacies,-a legacies,-a legacies,-a legacy of love you restore; and always love thank’d, and science. That are so thine eye in love solemn joy, even in style: how

looks my plainly see how odd are daily life leaks and trust that liuing disgrace and they throned eminence she full voice of life, that matter days, the wrong— unless her will not say or gold sandalwood leon, yet smelt roast-meat, beheld its

the loyal warmth of all mountain in the nights where are not in myn herte greet chill, I tried and shucks, refuse and Thetis. Too boldėly kan the roote. Who were strange of pearl. I should by now than, since Eve’s slipp’d and gums. Is best masterfully

sin wherefore me with me woods are used his word? Permit you only moment who wake up and dig, and little scrip of honey, and sweatshirt and cassia crow and gums. Where thyng, and brought nedes be upon her all the Moon! Every

eyes wroghte us weel; I had thanne wolde supp’d full and sex, were wol hym noght thou were goodė men are flesh, you’ll nevere wants a cruel. A Candiote cloud’s uncertain as before me a nest of us poor more clerkes hands to roam, thy believers,

when frae her aim—his head so wel, there display’d, upon some ice, taking into the nightgown would I dibble take a tale! At prepare you style me also, but burneth always fire so that blooming curls, and pledge vastly and baffled drum.

Thirty-fifth Stanza

”…”The most age eas’d to watch, glanced, Sir? Mistake for terme of their scale. Blushing ready! And scarcely greed, palace doors; but without

boats, stitch’d through you’ll not heart thumping like figure, the new despatch, glanced from eve to begins to plucked beneath a corner

you should we were my Sun-flower the dark valley, come to blame? ’ Have you by sweets to the bush where t is beneath

his child holds here, alas! The tunefu’ power of al mankynde broghte sheets, do you know, the crowds, or tie up and black,

an’ it will deny! For I, being should I love! Have a good deal practise here was clouds, and bright now as we on his,

and innocence, this kingdom! List, put to rest, as they want to tire: a calm and strike me! Feeds your three figure, as

soon began, that wanted, than less- deserving those symmetry set off a though Amphion leaning for wel ye knowe a

feend, with them, seem to the empty and take this turn to sit a sight my soul a faithful of better, or as Apollo’s

touch: my tend the souls, some me. This one small anise, that love who don’t pin men’s fated size of all lips had fyve; for

still soon shall the trophies of that here and on my peril, the rocks of the two hours, but prayers there, dropped, and the years:

which I deplore so I could repreve to woman’s, true; but short pause, at whose friend’s head, which he whisper’d thee bothe; this kind

kissed the sight, and the cote, and liberty does his prove faith. The pomanded slumbering all the last a saying, this;

now, by Pan, I cannot blue, that’s best of his arm overwrought that I was full, began to thee that with the deed tomorwe!

But before a womman was more law of all be delight, nor falls under there be what men are the work marred: for

he had toold him thy sholde make us poor breathe away, and state, it tikled I his high-designed, a youth the princely,

as thyn housbondes tolde many consume, and pray you reside myself in her tremendous tears, of course in; no ending

a chain was thus quell his hourly dreamless, he may so longe assailled upon a newspaper posterity.

Thirty-sixth Stanza

As they not stood on the daisy’s side by side, an’ it winna let a bound it not, thanne shul apparent came a hurry

to your there. Strange. Verses moving friends and glutted all around her; but those pamphlets, volume as a skeleton.

Thirty-seventh Stanza

Whan herte, for hymns of Carib fire, which housbondes for you could stab of words. My hand—had grassy barrows at his page,

Yes. Now a kiss on your heard the old negro’s conditions: promise otherwise’ she cried under crescent brows—there’s

nothings, and eek smoked superior, turn him seem I and yet with dear from my bones, few or deep wound up and renew’d.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #146 texts #ballad sequence

2 notes · View notes

vulpeculavolans · 2 years ago

Text

@ginnie-darling tagged me to talk abt 5 songs ive had on repeat recently! thanks fr enabling my music snobbery lovey 💋 the way this is absolutely going to be all mcr. mortifying

Our Lady of Sorrows by My Chemical Romance

Eat Your Young by Hozier

It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Fucking Deathwish by My Chemical Romance

Swimming Pool Song by Laura Jane Grace

Normalisation Blues by AJJ

cldve been worse! i'll tag @echoes-of-reason @soft-ghost, no pressure yall <333

#i hate that this list of songs paints such a picture of who i am as a person. awful.

5 notes · View notes

riverdamien · 1 year ago

Text

Watch!

Keeping Watch on the Streets of San Francisco!

In ages past Mary began her long journey to Jerusalem with Joseph, to oblige the state's census while growing "Emmanuel (God- with -us) within her!

Today Mary is continuing her journey on the streets challenging each of us to wake up and "Watch!" To "Watch" and see what is around us.

She calls us to "Watch!" Listen!" and let "God with us!" reach out to each person we see!

As I stand on the streets I hear the same call to "Watch", and in watching I move forward with clean socks, food, and clean needles, but more importantly simply standing and "listening!"

Listening to their joys, sorrows, loneliness, and day to day chatter I do not see "homeless people", "criminals", "dirty and smelly people," I see the face of the broken body of Christ revealed in human flesh.

Yesterday, Julian, and I sit with "Agnes" for an hour as she ate a meal we provided, she spent all of her time talking and we "Listened!" and "Watched!" Like Our Lady!

I see the face of Christ in the young girl trying to clean herself on a street corner, I see the face of Christ in tattooed arms and shaved heads, they are white, black, brown, Queer, and straight, all are the face of Christ. "Watching, Listening" we can see the broken body of the face of Christ and love them!

Our Lady and her son do not care what they believe, their color, or political persuasion, they are simply the broken body of Jesus!

"Watch"! "Listen"! Jesus reminds us to stay alert, and attentive to his presence!

In the week ahead I urge all of us as we go about our day to day business to "Watch!" and "Listen!" and to meditate on the following from:

Keep Watch With Me: An Advent Reader for Peacemakers,

Whitney Kimball Coe

What would Love have me do in this moment?

"The call of Advent is to practice putting down our desperate, human need for approval and fall in love with Jesus all over again, and to remember that nothing short of God's love claims us. We are children of God, and that is enough.

The culture of the moment demands our allegiance to political parties, ideologies, and hashtag movements to save our lives. We are encouraged to be thought-leaders, innovators, producers; to build power, to organize, to be woke, to be the fire or put it out.

Our world is heavy with tragedy and injustice that sear and break our hearts, and the work of overcoming evil sometimes overshadows the true call to be love in the world. in the face of suffering, we too often surrender Christ's light to reactionary grief, anger, and Twitter, and we forget to ask, What would Love have me do in this moment?

Advent reminds us that the work of love is a practice, not a competitive sport. It's not a win-lose or a zero-sum game. For Christians, seeing Christ's light in another is a way of being in the world, a practice that manifests as peacemaking, relationship-making, and reconciliation with the people right in front of you.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Fr. C. River Damien Sims, sfw, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

Snap Chat: "riodamien2"

pay pay can be found on www.temenos.org

415-305-2124

----------------------------------------------------

"From the desire of being esteemed. .of being known. .of being praised. . .of being approved, O Jesus deliver me.

From the fear of being humbled. .of being despised

being rebuked. .of being forgotten. .O Jesus deliver me.

That others may be esteemed more than I. .that others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus grant me the grace to deserve it."

0 notes

bylagunabay · 1 year ago

Text

Diary of an Exorcist

SPIRITUAL WARFARE FOR FAMILIES

(w/ Consecration Prayer)

Exorcist Father Chad Ripperger appeared as a guest on Doug Barry and Father Richard Heilman’s United States Grace Force podcast. Doug asked Fr. Ripperger how families can best protect themselves from the raging spiritual battle occurring in our modern culture. Fr. Ripperger’s four brief recommendations are as follows:

(1) PRAY THE ANGELUS

“One of the things we found the most effective in creating a good atmosphere within the home among the parents, is if they get up and pray the Angelus at 6:00 a.m., 12:00 noon, and 6:00 p.m. There’s something about this that protects people during spiritual warfare. We’re just now wrapping our minds around what specifically makes this work, but part of it has to do with the discipline.”

(2) PRAY FOR THE PROTECTION OF YOUR CHILDREN

“Pray for the protection of your children on a daily basis. Spiritual warfare is so intense that you actually have to pray every single day for your children’s protection.”

(3) PRAY FOR THE INTERCESSION OF OUR LADY OF SORROWS (VIRGIN MARY)

“Ask Our Lady of Sorrows, specifically under that title, if there is anything going on in the lives of your children. The reason being – a lot of times, stuff is hidden and the parents don’t know what’s going on until it’s way down the road. This will be a way for the parents to come to the knowledge of it, so it can be addressed more quickly.”

(4) CONSECRATE YOUR FAMILY AND ALL PROBLEMS REGULARLY TO OUR LADY

“In the book, Deliverance Prayers for the Laity, is the Consecration of Exterior Goods (see below). If parents consecrate their family, and the specific problems that the family deals with, I find that this drastically impacts the strengthening of the family and rooting out the defects and the problems within the family.

But then, of course, obviously, the parents have to have a habitual life of prayer themselves and get the children praying regularly, so that when they get to those points where the temptations occur – when they start seeing this stuff – they have the discipline of a regular prayer life to fall back on.”

CONSECRATION OF ONE’S EXTERIOR GOODS TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY

I, N. a faithless sinner, renew and ratify today in your hands the vows of my Baptism; I renounce forever Satan, his pomps and works; and I give myself entirely to Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Wisdom, to carry my cross after Him all the days of my life, and to be more faithful to Him than I have ever been before.

In the presence of all the heavenly court, I choose you, O Mary, this day for my Mother and Mistress. Knowing that I have received rights over all my exterior goods by the promulgation of the Natural Law by the Divine Author, I deliver and consecrate to you, as your slave, all of my exterior goods, past, present and future; I relinquish into your hands, my Heavenly Mother, all rights over my exterior goods, including my health, finances, relationships, possessions, property, my job and my earthly success and I retain for myself no right of disposing the goods that come to me but leave to you the entire and full right of disposing of all that belongs to me, without exception, according to your good pleasure, for the greater glory of God in time and in eternity. As I now interiorly relinquish what belongs to me exteriorly into your hands, I entrust to you the protection of those exterior goods against the evil one, so that, knowing that they now belong to you, he cannot touch them.

Receive, O good and pious Virgin, this little offering of what little is, in honor of, and in union with, that subjection which the Eternal Wisdom deigned to have to your maternity; in homage to the power which both of you have over this poor sinner, and in thanksgiving for the privileges with which the Holy Trinity has favored you. Trusting in the providential care of God the Father and thy maternal care, I have full confidence that you will take care of me as to the necessities of this life and will not leave me forsaken. God the Father increase my trust in Your Son’s Mother; Our Lady of Fair Love, give me perfect confidence in the providence of Your Son. Amen.

#catholic church #catholic #spiritual warfare #exorcism #exorcists #angelus #Mary #Blessed Virgin Mary

1 note · View note

frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 1 year ago

Text

15th September >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on John 19:25-27 for Our Lady of Sorrows: ‘This is your mother’.

Our Lady of Sorrows

Gospel (Except USA) John 19:25-27 'Woman, this is your son'.

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the disciple he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ Then to the disciple he said, ‘This is your mother.’ And from that moment the disciple made a place for her in his home.

Gospel (Except USA) Luke 2:33-35 'A sword will pierce your soul too'.

As the child’s father and mother stood there wondering at the things that were being said about him, Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, ‘You see this child: he is destined for the fall and for the rising of many in Israel, destined to be a sign that is rejected – and a sword will pierce your own soul too – so that the secret thoughts of many may be laid bare.’

-------

Gospel (USA) John 19:25-27 How that loving mother was pierced with grief and anguish when she saw the sufferings of her Son (Stabat Mater).

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

Gospel (USA) Luke 2:33-35 And you yourself a sword will pierce.

Jesus’ father and mother were amazed at what was said about him; and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

Reflections (9)

(i) Our Lady of Sorrows

I am struck by the expression ‘silent tears’ in today’s first reading. It says that ‘During his life on earth, Christ offered up prayer and entreaty, aloud and in silent tears’. He prayed aloud out of the depths of distress, as in the Garden of Gethsemane, when he prayed, ‘Abba, Father… remove this cup from me’, and on the cross when he prayed, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ Yet, he also prayed in silent tears. The desperate prayer of his heart found expression in tears rather than in words. We have all known the language of silent tears at moments of profound pain and loss. We have no words to utter, but our tears express what is in our heart. Sometimes our prayer, like the prayer of Jesus, can find expression in silent tears rather than in words. Today’s gospel reading declares, ‘near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas and Mary of Magdala’. At the foot of the cross, Mary would have ‘offered up prayer and entreaty, aloud and in silent tears’. This memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows remembers Mary’s unique sharing in the sufferings of her son. The bond between mother and son, between parent and child, is like no other bond. Looking upon Jesus, Mary could have said, as any parent could say of their child, ‘this is bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh’. Only a mother who has lost a son in tragic circumstances can even begin to fathom the suffering of Mary at the foot of the cross. That wonderful 13th Century Latin hymn which reflects on this moment in Mary’s life, the Stabat Mater, begins, ‘At the cross her station keeping, stood the mournful Mother weeping, close to Jesus to the last’. She was closer to Jesus than any human being and she was close to him to the last. She suffered with him. The sorrow of Calvary would give way to the joy of Easter Sunday. The risen Lord must have appeared to Mary, although it is not recorded in the gospels. According to Luke, she was with the other disciples in prayer when the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the risen Lord, came down upon them at Pentecost. As Mother of sorrows, we can ask Mary to pray for us in our own sorrowful times. As Mother of the risen Lord, we can ask her to keep us hopeful at such times, and to help us to recognize the presence of her risen Son in those moments when all seems lost.

And/Or

(ii) Our Lady of Sorrows

We tend to suffer when those who are close to us suffer. When children are sick, parents go through agony. Conversely, when parents become ill, their adult children become emotionally involved in their struggles. The sufferings and sorrows of Mary are intertwined with the sufferings and sorrows of her Son. Simeon highlights this intertwining of the life of Mary and the life of her Son in today’s gospel reading. He says of Mary’s son that he is destined to be a sign that is rejected and immediately says of Mary that a sword will pierce her own soul too. Michelangelo’s Pieta is the perfect expression in stone of that intertwining of the suffering and death of Jesus and the sorrows of Mary. Because Mary was so close to Jesus, she suffered when he did. Just as it is said of Christ in the first reading that ‘he offered up prayer and entreaty aloud and in silent tears’, the same could be said of Mary. Mary was faithful to her Son even though it meant sharing in his way of the cross. As disciples of Jesus, we look to Mary to inspire us to be as faithful to Jesus as she was even when that means the way of the cross. Like her we are ready to have a sword piece our own soul when faithfulness to the values of the gospel requires it.

And/Or

(iii) Our Lady of Sorrows

Yesterday we celebrated the feast of the Triumph of the Cross. Today we celebrate the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows. The gospels recognize that the sufferings of Jesus impacted on his mother. The suffering of both is brought together very clearly by Simeon in today’s gospel reading, Mary’s child is to be a sign that is rejected and a sword will pierce her own soul too. Just as Jesus’ way of cross began long before he got to Calvary, so too did Mary’s. Luke’s story of the finding of Jesus in the temple when Jesus was only twelve years old highlights the pain of both Mary and Joseph. When they found their son after much searching, Luke has Mary ask the question of Jesus, ‘Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been searching for you anxiously’. Jesus replied, ‘did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?’ Luke presents a scene in which Mary experiences the pain of letting her son go to a greater purpose, God’s purpose. Therein lies the sword that Simeon refers to. Throughout Jesus’ life Mary struggled to let him go to God’s great purpose for his life. Her final and most painful experience of letting go was as Golgotha. We too struggle to let people go to what God desires for them, especially when what God desires for them is in conflict with what we want for them. In that struggle we can certainly look to Mary for help, asking her to pray for us and to give us a greater share of her spiritual freedom.

And/Or

(iv) Our Lady of Sorrows

When someone we love suffers, we suffer along with them. The more we love someone, the more we suffer when they suffer. This is especially true of parents when their children suffer. When a son or daughter is suffering physically or emotionally or mentally, the mother and father is suffering just as much as their child is suffering, and sometimes even more so. You give your heart in love to someone and, invariably, it will be broken. There is no love without suffering. The only way to avoid that kind of suffering is to lock our heart up. The temptation can be to refuse to give our heart to anything or anyone, so that it is kept intact and never gets broken, but to do that is only to be half alive. The only way to live is to love and to accept the suffering that love inevitably brings. This morning we celebrate the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. She gave her heart to her Son and when her Son’s body was broken, Mary’s heart was broken. Michelangelo’s Pieta captures that very powerfully. Simeon in today’s gospel reading makes that connection between Jesus’ suffering and that of his mother. Jesus is ‘destined to be a sign that is rejected’ and, as for Mary, ‘a sword will pierce your own soul too’. When our own heart breaks because of love we can look to Our Lady of Sorrows as our inspiration and our support.

And/Or

(v) Our Lady of Sorrows

The Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows is always the day after the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. That wonderful Latin poem, the Stabat Mater, captures the sorrow of Mary very powerfully. It begins, ‘At the cross her station keeping, Stood the mournful Mother weeping, Close to Jesus to the last; Through her heart, his sorrow sharing, All his bitter anguish bearing, Now at length the sword had passed’. The ‘sword’ there is a reference to the sword that Simeon prophesied would pierce her heart, on the occasion of Mary and Joseph bringing the child Jesus into the temple. The most powerful depiction of Mary’s sorrow in marble is the wonderful Pietá by Michelangelo in Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome. One of the greatest human sorrows is that of a parent who has had to live through the death of his or her son or daughter. There is a particular quality to that sorrow which is unique in the land of sorrows. This was the sorrow that Mary endured at the cross of her Son. The physical agony of Jesus was balanced by the agonizing sorrow of Mary. It is a very dark scene. Yet, the portrayal of that scene in John’s gospel, which we have just heard, has a certain quality of light to it. The dying Jesus entrusts his mother and the beloved disciple to each other’s care. The words addressed to the beloved disciple are addressed to every disciple, to all of us gathered here this morning, ‘This is your mother’. In and through the death and resurrection of Jesus, we have been taken up into a new family, which looks to God as Father, to Jesus as brother, to Mary as mother and to one another as brothers and sisters. From the cross, Jesus bequeaths his mother to us all. In our own times of sorrows we can look towards Mary asking her to pray for us, sinners, now, and also at the hour of our own death.

And/Or

(vi) Our Lady of Sorrows

We are all very interdependent. What affects one person can impact on many others. This is especially true within a family. When one family member suffers in some way, every family member is affected. If we are close to someone in love, the pain and struggle of the loved one becomes our pain and struggle. In this morning’s gospel reading, Simeon announces that Mary’s child whom she has just brought into the Temple will become a source of division. Some will accept him and ‘rise’; others will reject him and ‘fall’. His presence will be divisive and those who reject him will bring him much suffering. Mary as the mother of this child cannot escape his dark destiny. A sword will pierce her own soul too. She was the closest human being to Jesus and, inevitably, what happened to him would impact on her. Her sorrow reached its pinnacle as she stood by the cross and watched her son dying a painful death. Perhaps there is no sorrow greater than that of a mother who loses a son or daughter at the prime of their lives. Today’s feast of Mary brings her very close to us. It reminds us that she entered into the depths of human pain and suffering. The greatest saint of all time, the one who was closer to Jesus than any other human being, travelled the way of the cross. Our own relationship with Jesus does not preserve us from life’is cs sorrows and pains, no more than it preserved Mary. Yet we can be assured that as she went on to experience her son as risen Lord and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, we too will be sustained by the risen Lord and his Spirit on our own way of the cross.

And/Or

(vii) Our Lady of Sorrows

I have a crucifix in my room which I like. It is a small replica of a crucifix in Assisi, the one before which Saint Francis was praying when he heard the Lord call on him to rebuild his church. Initially, Francis understood that call in a very physical, practical way, and he started helping to repair the local churches. He came to see that the Lord was calling him to rebuild his church in a much deeper sense. The church was in need of reform and Francis was to be one of the Lord’s instruments in that reform. Beneath the outstretched arms of Jesus are five figures, on one side is a group of two, a man and a woman, Mary the mother of Jesus and the beloved disciple, traditionally understood as John. This is the same scene that is depicted in words in today’s gospel reading. Today’s feast reminds us that Mary, more than any other human being, shared in the Lord’s passion and death. When a young man dies, no one suffers more than his parents. Yet, the cross of Jesus can never be separated from his resurrection. The same Mary who stood at the foot of the cross in deep sorrow and anguish was also present at Pentecost when the Holy Spirit came down upon her and the other disciples. Her sorrow, like that of the other disciples, turned to joy. It is striking that in the crucifix from Assisi, the crucified Jesus is depicted as calm and serene, almost glorious, and Mary and John and the other figures beneath the arms of Jesus appear to be smiling. It is a crucifix that is shot through with the light and joy of Easter. Even this feast of Our Lady of Sorrows is bathed in Easter light. All our sorrows are bathed in Easter light, because the risen Lord is our light in every darkness and our strength in every weakness.

And/Or

(viii) Our Lady of Sorrows

Although today is the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, it is not a sorrowful feast. Mary’s sorrow was the consequence of her motherly love for her Son, Jesus. Those we love invariably bring us suffering and sorrow. If we give our heart to someone, sooner or later it will be broken. The only way to keep our heart from being broken is to keep it locked away, not giving it to anyone or anything. However, that would be to live a very impoverished life. Our fundamental call as human beings is to love. Our basic call as followers of the Lord is to love others as he has loved us. The more we love, the more we expose ourselves to sorrow and pain. Jesus was loving in a way that was unique because he fully revealed God’s love. He loved more completely than any other human being ever did or could. That is why his suffering was greater than that of any human being. I mean not so much his physical suffering as his suffering of heart, the suffering which comes from the rejection and betrayal of love. Mary was the human being who was closest to Jesus. Her love for Jesus had a special quality, the quality of a mother’s love. Because of her unique love for Jesus, she shared in Jesus’s suffering in a unique way. It is her love for Jesus that is at the heart of today’s feast. The depth of her sorrow and suffering reflects the depth of her love for the Lord. We can learn from her to stand in love at the foot of other people’s crosses. She also inspires us to remain faithful to Jesus her Son out of love, even if that means we have to travel the way of the cross. Today’s feast also reminds us that we can turn to Mary for help and strength when our love for others, and, in particular, our love for the Lord, brings us sorrow and suffering.

And/Or

(ix) Our Lady of Sorrows

There is a hymn associated with today’s feast called in Latin, ‘Stabat Mater’, literally, ‘The mother stood’. The title is taken from the opening verse of the hymn, ‘At the cross her station keeping, Stood the mournful Mother weeping, Close to Jesus to the last’. This memorial of Mary is closely associated with the crucifixion of Jesus, which is why it is celebrated the day after the feast of the exaltation of the cross. There is no greater sorrow for parents than the sorrow brought on by the death of their child. Most of us here this morning will have grieved the death of a parent or both parents, and we accept such grief as part of life. However, the grief of a parent for a deceased son or daughter is of a different order. In today’s gospel reading, Simeon closely associates the coming suffering of Mary’s child and her own suffering. Jesus is destined to be a sign that is rejected and a sword will pierce her own soul too. Because of her unique relationship with Jesus as his mother, what was to happen to him would have a significant impact on her. The opening verse of the Stabat Mater concludes, ‘Close to Jesus to the last’. Mary’s sorrow was the inevitable consequence of her closeness to Jesus in love. Mary shows us our own calling, rooted in our baptism, to remain close to Jesus in love to the end. We are called to be as faithful to him as she was. Our closeness to the Lord, our commitment in love to him, will sometimes take us to the foot of the cross, as it took Mary there. Yet, if we remain faithful to the Lord, we will experience his even greater faithfulness to us, as Mary did when Calvary soon gave way to Easter Sunday and the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

1 note · View note

angeltreasure · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! Not a prayer request but am just asking some tips on how to be a Marian devotee and if you know any Catholic bloggers here who are Marian devotees that I can follow? I do the Brown Scapular, the Miraculous Medal devotion, and even planning to do the 33 days to Morning Glory consecration but somehow I feel like I'm missing the whole point of the relationship with the BVM here :((

Happy Easter!

Here are some blogs that remind me of Mary, have a theme of her, or have posted recently of her (also I apologize if I missed any feel free to introduce yourself). @trying-to-be-mary @the-annunciation @moldada-em-maria @dorrance30 @sugarrose64 @soldier-of-virgin-mary @blessedvmaria @rose-ary @allaboutmary @mercieswithoutend @coracaodemaria @handmaidfullofgrace @srhelena-ofmary @sister-colleen @tradcatmaria

Here are some suggestions on how to devote yourself to Mary with some fresh ideas.

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

What To Avoid

- do not worship Mary in place of God

- do not worship Mary as a goddess

- do not use any form of witchcraft that involves Mary

- do not use Mary to make spells

- do not use tarot cards printed with Mary

- do not use anything of Mary that is occult related

I’m sure you are already aware of this but I know other will see this post so it is worth mentioning.

⭐️- ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Mary Gardens!

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Mary shrines~

You can go visit a place of an official Marian apparition or you can make your own little shrine at home with a statue of her.

You could also consider a “pocket shrine”. The possibilities are endless.

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Books!!

Books are also a great way to read about Mary.

The Lives of the Saints by Fr. Alban Butler

True Devotion to Mary: with Preparation for Total Consecration by St. Louis de Montfort

The Secret Of The Rosary by St. Louis de Montfort

Our Lady’s Wardrobe by Anthony DeStefano

10 Wonders of the Rosary by Fr. Donald Calloway

The Holy Rosary by Rev. Lawrence G Lovasik S.V.D.

Mary My Mother by Rev. Lawrence G Lovasik S.V.D.

Our Lady of Lourdes by Rev. Lawrence G Lovasik S.V.D.

Our Lady of Guadalupe by Rev. Lawrence G Lovasik S.V.D.

Children's Prayers to Mary by Rev. Lawrence G Lovasik S.V.D.

Manual for Marian Devotion by The Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Movies/shows~

The Chosen (2017-current)

Mary of Nazareth (2012)

Fatima (2020)

The Miracle of Our Lady of Fatima (1952)

The Passion of the Christ (2004)

The Nativity Story (2006)

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Prayers Cards/Holy Cards

There are many to collect and they come in various prints of the saints, often with a prayer on the back or sometimes a small biography. You can collect them, decorate your house or car with them, or even gift them to others in need to spread the faith!

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Hymns~

Ave Maria

Immaculate Mary

Hail Holy Queen

Salve Regina

Hail Mary, Gentle Woman

There are so many more!!

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Virtues

Mary is amazing at keeping virtues by doing God’s will and keeping the Ten Commandments. To model after Mary can help us grow in holiness to reach our goal, Heaven. Showing mercy is also another great way.

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Prayers

- The Rosary

- Hail Mary

- The Memorare

- The Angelus

- Regina Coeli

- Hail Holy Queen

- The Magnificat

- Loving Mother of the Redeemer

- Chaplet of the Seven Sorrows of Mary

….there are many more! Try one each day. Another way to grow in devotion is before or after Catholic mass you can light a votive candle and say a prayer for someone in need. Become a prayer warrior.

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Organizations and Religious Orders inspired by Mary that you can research, support, contact, pray for, etc, etc. There are so many more.

⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

Stepping Up Prayer Life

Here are two groups I have joined for free online that may help you with your prayer life. Your own church or one nearby may have ministries too, that can help grow in devotion or model after our Mother. You may be able to make one of your own.

The Rosary Confraternity

“Each member of the Rosary Confraternity strives to pray the complete Rosary each week (3 Rosaries, 15 decades, and this does not bind under sin, complete details here), and must have his/her name inscribed in the register of the Confraternity. There are no meetings, and no dues….”

Association of Marian Helpers

“Marian Helpers are men, women, moms, dads, grandparents, families, and even children who support the mission of the Marian Fathers in various ways. They are people who, maybe just like you, are looking for ways to belong to something that is doing great good in the Church and the world….As a Marian Helper, you'll share in the benefits of all the daily Masses, prayers, and good works of Marian priests and brothers all over the world…”

⭐️- ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️ - ⭐️

God’s Will

St. Zechariah did not believe the news from the angel that his wife, who was older in age and struggled in fertility with him, would bear a son named John that would prepare the way for the Messiah. Since he did not believe in the will that was God’s, considering the circumstances, the angel made him mute until after St. John was born. Mary, on the other hand, was the opposite. Being found in favor with God, she opened herself to God’s will in amazement, when she heard she would conceive Jesus. Many times in life, people go about their lives under their own will, their own concerns, many times without thinking of God’s will for them and others. To model after Mary, try to open yourself more and more to the will of God and do not be afraid. Remember that God loves you so much more than you will ever know in this life alone. Mary is a wonderful saint we can draw inspiration from.

Hope this helps! May God bless you. 🕊

#Mary #Marian devotion #asks #Catholicism #Catholic #there are probably more #but this is what I can immediately think of off the top of my head #reference #masterpost #Easter

52 notes · View notes

ave-immaculata · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I hope you’re having a nice day. I have a question in context to the sermons of Fr. Ripperger on the Holy Rosary through Sensus Fidelium where I’d like to focus on the conditions for prayer to be efficacious, where one of these requirements is the need for the person to be in a state of grace.

If a person prays the Holy Rosary but is in a state of mortal sin with the intention of repenting & going to confession, does that act still earn any merit from God? Would it be then better to delay praying the Holy Rosary until one again is in the state of grace in order to benefit the devotion’s fruits?

This is a very big question so I apologize for postponing my response, I'm truly not qualified to answer it.

I think I understand what Fr. Ripperger is saying (assuming I found the right video), but I can personally attest to the power of the Holy Rosary in the state of mortal sin. I would not be Catholic today without Our Lady's intercession through the Holy Rosary. I did not have faith in the Sacramental. I did not have faith in God. I did not have faith in Mary. I did not have anything but a bizarre willingness to recite the prayers of the Rosary with an open heart and a sliver of hope, and Mary did the rest. The moment I first entered into a state of grace is totally because of Christ's sacrifice, His gift of His mother, and her gift of the Rosary to us.

It is never better to delay prayer, and although I see the logic I think as soon as we start to see transactional (how can I make this most efficient) we lose sight of the true propose of spirituality, union with Christ.

Also, if you're truly intending to receive the Sacrament of Confession out of love for God and true sorrow for offending Him, I believe that would qualify as perfect contrition and then you wouldn't be in a state of mortal sin anyway!

As I said, I'm really not the best person to tackle such a question, but I hope this sort of helped. Fr Ripperger always challenges me 😂

#also lol pray for me bc i also postponed this since ive been in a state of mortal sin for ages and I'm so afraid 😅🙃

15 notes · View notes

church-history · 4 years ago

Text

Our Lady Of Akita

A few pious women known as the Institute of the Handmaids of the Holy Eucharist were leading a quiet, hidden life of prayer in Yuzawadai just outside of Akita when they welcomed into their novitiate Sister Agnes Katsuko Sasagawa, who was then 42 years old and a convert from Buddhism. When she entered on May 12, 1973, Agnes was totally and incurably deaf, however she was blessed with various mystical favors; soon this convent would become so well known that their little chapel would attract pilgrims from around the world.

The first miraculous event at Akita occurred on June 12, 1973, only a month after the entrance of Sr. Agnes:A brilliant light shone forth from the Tabernacle. This happened several times and was often accompanied by something resembling smoke which hung around the altar. During one of these illuminations Sr. Agnes saw ". . . a multitude of beings similar to Angels who surrounded the altar in adoration before the Host." Bishop Ito was staying at the convent to conduct a week of devotions. Sr. Agnes confided to him the circumstances of this vision, as well as all the events and apparitions that followed. Bishop Ito and the convent's spiritual director, Rev. Teiji Yasuda, were witnesses to many of the events.

Seitai Hoshikai Convent, Akita Japan

Sr. Agnes was also favored with visitations of her guardian Angel. Asked to describe the Angel, Sr. Agnes replied: "a round face, an expression of sweetness . . . a person covered with a shining whiteness like snow . . ." The guardian Angel confided various messages to the sister and often prayed with her, in addition to guiding and advising her.

On the evening of June 28, 1973, Sr. Agnes discovered on the palm of her left hand a cross-shaped wound that was exceedingly painful. On July 5, 1973, a small opening appeared in the center from which blood began to flow. Later, the pain would ease during most of the week except for Thursday nights and all day Friday, when the pain became almost unbearable.

Then on July 6 the guardian Angel appeared, telling Sr. Agnes: ". . . The wounds of Mary are much deeper and more sorrowful than yours. Let us go to pray together in the chapel." After entering the chapel the Angel disappeared. Sr. Agnes then turned to the statue of Mary situated on the right side of the altar.

The statue, which is approximately three feet tall had been carved from the hard wood of the Judea tree: it is a figure of Our Lady standing before a cross, her arms at her side with the palms of her hands facing forward. Beneath her feet is a globe representing the world.

When Sr. Agnes approached the statue, she said, "I suddenly felt that the wooden statue came to life and was about to speak to me . . . She was bathed in a brilliant light . . . and at the same moment a voice of indescribable beauty struck my totally deaf ears." Our Lady told her: ". . . Your deafness will be healed . . ." She then recited with Sr. Agnes the community prayer that had been composed by Bishop Ito. At the words "Jesus present in the Eucharist," Mary instructed, "From now on, you will add TRULY." Together with the Angel who again appeared, the three voices recited a consecration to the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, TRULY present in the Holy Eucharist. Before disappearing, Our Lady asked that Sr. Agnes "pray very much for the Pope, bishops and priests . . ."

The next morning, when the sisters assembled for the recitation of Lauds, they found blood on the right hand of the statue and two lines which crossed, in the middle of which was an opening from which the blood flowed. The wound matched that on the hand of Sr. Agnes except that, since the statue's hand was smaller, its wound was smaller. It bled on the Fridays of July during the year 1973, as did the wound on the hand of Sr. Agnes.

One of the sisters wrote: "It seemed to be truly cut into flesh. The edge of the cross had the aspect of human flesh and one even saw the grain of the skin like a fingerprint. I said to myself at that moment that the wound was real . . ."

Of special noteworthiness, the drops of blood ran the length of the statue's hand, which was open and pointing downward, yet the drops never fell from the hand.

Sr. Agnes Sasagawa

The wound on the hand of Sr. Agnes appeared on Thursday, June 28. As predicted by the guardian Angel, the wound disappeared on Friday, July 27 without leaving a trace.

The second message of Our Lady came on August 3, 1973, a First Friday, when the heavenly voice from the statue warned:

". . . Many men in this world afflict the Lord . . . In order that the world might know His anger, the Heavenly Father is preparing to inflict a great chastisement on all mankind . . . I have prevented the coming of calamities by offering Him the sufferings of the Son on the Cross, His Precious Blood and beloved souls who console Him forming a cohort of victim souls. Prayer, penance and courageous sacrifices can soften the Father's anger . . . know that you must be fastened to the Cross with three nails. These three nails are poverty, chastity and obedience. Of the three, obedience is the foundation . . . When Sr. Agnes was professed, she pronounced these three vows. Although the wound on the hand of Sr. Agnes disappeared on July 27, the wound on the hand of the statue remained until its disappearance on September 29. At that time the statue emitted a bright light. The wound had remained for three months.

While wounds in the hands of the statue bled, Bishop Ito advises that, contrary to some reports, ". ..the statue did not sweat blood or weep blood at any time."

On the evening office of September 29, 1973, the whole community saw a brilliant light coming from the statue. Almost immediately the entire body of the statue became covered with a moisture resembling perspiration. Sr. Agnes' guardian Angel told her, "Mary is even sadder than when she shed blood. Dry the perspiration."

The sisters used cotton balls to collect the moisture. Following Our Lady's message, the dazzling light that had surrounded the statue gradually disappeared.

Toward the end of May, 1974, another phenomenon occurred. While the statue's garment and the hair retained the look of natural wood, the face, hands and feet became distinguished by a dark, reddish-brown tint. Eight years later, when the sculptor came to see the statue, he could not hide his surprise that only the visible parts of Our Lady's body had changed color, and that the face itself had changed expression.

Then on January 4, 1975, to the amazement of the community and Fr. Yasuda, the statue of the Virgin began to weep and did so three times that day. Also witnessing these tears, in addition to the sisters, were Bishop Ito and a number of people who had joined the nuns for a New Year's retreat. In the 10 years following, scientific studies excluded any explanation other than the supernatural.

the tears collected on the inside edge of the eyes flowed down the cheeks, collected at the edge of the garment near the throat, rolled down the folds of the garment and fell upon the globe under Our Lady's feet.

Fr. Yasuda recorded in his book, The Tears and Message of Mary, that the statue:

. . . had completely dried out during the years since it was made and little cracks had begun to appear. It is already miraculous if water would flow from such material, but it is still more prodigious that a liquid sightly salty, of the nature of true human tears, should have flowed precisely from the eyes."

Eventually, Bishop Ito arranged for Professor Sagisaka, M.D., a non-Christian specialist in forensic medicine, to make a rigorous scientific examination of the three fluids, although the Bishop did not reveal their source. The results were: "The matter adhering on the gauze is human blood. The sweat and the tears absorbed in the two pieces of cotton are of human origin." The blood was found to belong to group B and the sweat and tears to group AB. Sr. Agnes belongs to group B.

Bishop Ito was advised by the Apostolic Nuncio to seek the assistance of the Archbishop of Tokyo in creating a commission of canonical inquiry. Unfortunately, the Inquisitor who was not Catholic was named president of this group. Without any of the members visiting the convent to conduct a personal inquiry, the commission rendered an unfavorable verdict.

Unwilling to accept a negative verdict to the events he himself had witnessed, Bishop Ito asked the advice in Rome of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, as well as the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith. He was then advised to form another commission to study the events from the beginning. This commission rendered a favorable verdict regarding the supernatural aspects of the events.

The tears of December 8, 1979 were filmed by a televiion crew at 11 o'clock in the evening, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and was shown on television to 12 million people throughout Japan. It is now shown by the nuns at the convent and was shown during news broadcasts throughout the world.

The sculptor of the statue, Saburo Wakasa, a non-Catholic and a citizen of Akita, was asked his reaction to the occurrences relating to the statue. He answered:

The statue of Mary was my first work connected with Christianity. Of my various statues, it is only with the statue of Mary at Yuzawadai that mysterious events occurred . . . I sculptured the whole statue of Mary, globe, and the Cross from the same piece of wood, so there are no joints . . . The wood from which I carved the statue of Mary was very dry and rather hard . . .

When questioned as to whether he regards as a "miracle" the reported shedding of tears from the statue of Mary, he replied, "It is a mystery."

Another examination of the fluids was conducted by Dr. Sagisaka of the Department of Forensic Medicine, School of Medicine, University of Akita. The results were given on November 30, 1981 and revealed that:

"The object examined has adhering to it human liquids which belong to the blood group O." Since the first analysis revealed that the blood belonged to group B and the sweat and tears to group AB, it has been established that the fluids belong to three different blood groups.

It is a medical fact that the blood, tears and sweat of an individual all belong to the same blood group. One fluid cannot differ in type from the other fluids of the same body. Since Sr. Agnes belonged to group B she could not have "ejected and transferred" blood or fluids belonging to group AB or O. The theory of the Inquisitor that Sr. Agnes exercised had ectoplasmic power wass thereby refuted.

On the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows [September 15], the statue cried for the last time. Two weeks later, Sr. Agnes' guardian Angel presented a large Bible surrounded with a brilliant light. The open Bible revealed the reference, Genesis 3:15. The Angel explained that the passage had a relationship with the tears of Mary and then continued.

. . . sin came into the world by a woman and it is also by a woman that salvation came to the world . . .

The lachrymations number 101, and they took place at irregular intervals from January 4, 1975 until September 15, 1981. The first 1 is Eve, the second, Our Lady and the 0 represents the eternal Holy Trinity.

According to the records kept by the sisters, the number of persons witnessing the tears went unrecorded on five occasions. However, all the other times they were witnessed by no fewer than ten persons, and other lachrymations were witnessed by various numbers of people, sometimes as many as 46, 55 and, for the last lachrymation, 65 people. Some of the witnesses were non-Christians and some were prominent Buddhists, including the mayor of the city.

On October 13, the anniversary of the Miracle of the Sun at Fatima, 1973, Sr. Agnes heard the beautiful voice speaking from the statue once more: "The work of the devil will infiltrate even into the Church in such a way that one will see cardinals opposing cardinals, bishops against other bishops. The priests who venerate me will be scorned and opposed by their confreres, churches and altars will be sacked. The Church will be full of those who accept compromises and the devil will press many priests and consecrated souls to leave the service of the Lord. The demon would be especially implacable against souls consecrated to God. The thought of the loss of so many souls is the cause of my sadness. If sins increase in number and gravity, there will be no longer any pardon for them."

She continued, "As I told you, if people do not repent and better themselves, the Father will inflict a terrible punishment on all humanity. It will be a punishment greater than the Flood, such as one will never have seen before. Fire will fall from the sky and will wipe out a great part of humanity, the good as well as the bad, sparing neither priests nor faithful. The survivors will find themselves so desolate that they will envy the dead. The only arms which will remain for you will be the Rosary and the Sign left by my Son. Each day recite the prayers of the Rosary. With the Rosary pray for the Pope, the bishops and the priests."

The statue wept for the last time on September 15, Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows.

Sr. Agnes was totally and incurably deaf when she entered the community, having lost her hearing on March 16, 1973. Sister was able to speak, and understood spoken messages by lip reading. As predicted by her guardian Angel, she temporarily regained her hearing on October 13, 1974. Deafness returned on March 7, 1975. Her hearing was permanently restored on May 30, 1982, as predicted by Our Lady during the first message of July 6, 1973. Both healings occurred instantaneously during Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Sr. Agnes is today in sound health, except for the rheumatism that has affected her hands.

A canonical law regarding the judgment of a Marian apparition was issued in 1978. According to a Vatican official: ". . . the authority to hand down a conclusion regarding the authenticity of any Marian apparition is given canonically to the ordinary (the bishop) of the local diocese where the apparition took place . . ."

In his pastoral letter dated April 22, 1984, Bishop John Ito, the Ordinary of the Diocese of Niigata, wrote that having been given directives in this regard, "I authorize throughout the entire diocese of which I am charged, the veneration of the Holy Mother of Akita." The Bishop noted that the events are only a matter of private revelation, and are not points of doctrine. The Bishop also mentioned in his pastoral letter that he had known Sr. Agnes Sasagawa for 10 years. "She is a woman sound in spirit, frank and without problems; she has always impressed me as a balanced person. Consequently the messages she says that she has received did not appear to me to be in any way the result of imagination or hallucination."

Four years later, on June 20, 1988, during Bishop lto's visit to Rome, the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith approved the contents of the pastoral letter.

Bishop Ito's official recognitions of the occurrences and the Madonna's messages were reported in the October, 1988 issue of the magazine 30 Days. In the August 1990 issue, Cardinal Ratzinger is quoted as saying that "there are no objections to the conclusion of the pastoral letter." Cardinal Ratzinger has invited the Bishop to continue to inform him about the pilgrimages and conversions.

#catholic #catholic history #our lady of akita #akita japan #japan #blessed virgin mary

57 notes · View notes

mirabilefuturum · 3 years ago

Text

whatever i could find of tsvetaeva's "girlfriend"

@sirensturfnomen boop

so the "cycle" is called "She-Friend", which you may translate as Girlfriend or just as Lover for all I care, it was before WW1

I had a list before my eyes to compare the tutles and the numbers to, everything is accounted for except #17 (which isn't super long or super deep so it's not like the best jewel is without translation)

some translations in the links look like GT to me :/ but I looked up some decent ones

1: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/you-re-happy-you-won-t-say-barely/

https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2019/07/17/translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-1/

2: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/under-a-velvet-throw/

https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2019/07/17/translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-2/

3: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/today-was-melting-and-today/

https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2019/08/03/my-translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-3/

4: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/you-were-too-lazy-to-get-dressed/

https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2019/08/10/my-translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-4/

5: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/today-around-eight-dashing-through/

6: https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2021/06/11/my-translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-8/

7: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/how-cheerfully-with-snowflakes-shone/

https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2021/03/01/my-translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-6/

8: https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2021/04/21/my-translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-7/

9: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/you-pass-me-by-as-you-stroll/

10: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/how-can-i-not-recall/

11: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/my-eyes-are-scorched-by-every-gaze/

12: https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2021/06/19/my-translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-9/

13: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/i-ll-repeat-in-hour-of-parting/

14: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/there-are-names-like-stifling-flowers/

15: https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2021/01/13/my-translation-of-marina-tsvetaevas-cycle-girlfriend-part-5/

16: https://ruverses.com/marina-tsvetaeva/at-first-you-loved/

17: 404 not found lmao

Ilya Shambat (numbering by me)

From Cycle "Girlfriend"

You're happy? You won't say! Barely!

Better let go!

You kissed too many, I do think,

Therefrom, sorrow.

All heroines of Shakespeare's tragedies

In you I see.

Nobody saved you, you the young

Tragic lady.

You are so tired of repeating

Love's charm!

Eloquent, the pig iron bracelet

On bloodless arm.

I love you. - Like a thundercloud

Above you - sin -

Because you're best of all and caustic

And sting,

Because in darkness of the roads differ

Our lives and we,

For your inspired enticement and

Dark destiny,

Because to you, my round-headed demon,

"Forgive" I'll say,

Because you - tear apart above the coffin! -

Cannot be saved!

For this trembling, because - is it not so -

I have a dream? -

For the ironic beauty of this,

That you - aren't he.

Under caresses of an ivy

Plaid I recalled yesterday's dream.

Whose victory? Who's been defeated?

What has it been?

Rethinking everything once more,

Torturing myself once again.

In this, for which no word I know,

Had love ever been?

Who was the hunter? Who - the hunted?

All is reversed as if by Satan!

What did the loudly purring Siberian

Cat, understand?

In this self-willing one another

Who in whose hand was but a ball?

Whose heart flew - yours or mine,

Do you recall?

And still again - what has it been too?

What do I want, what do I pity?

And I don't know: Did I win? Did somebody

Conquer me?

Today was melting, and today

Before the window I did stand.

A sober look, a freer chest,

I'm satisfied just once again.

I don't know why. Perhaps the soul

Has simply grown tired withal,

And somehow the rebellious pencil

I do not wish to touch at all.

Distant to good and evil both,

Inside the fog I stood, and thus,

Was lightly drumming with my finger

Upon the barely sounding glass.

It is indifferent to the soul

Than this one you first met - say I -

Than mother-of-the-pearl mud puddles

Where in full pleasure splashed the sky,

Than bird that overhead is flying

And dog that's simply running by

And even the impoverished singer

Did not begin to make me cry.

The dear art of oblivion

The soul has mastered all the way.

Some overwhelmingly big feeling

Melted within my soul today.

You were too lazy to get dressed,

Too lazy to get up for me.

And every following day for you

Would have been happy with my glee.

To come so late on a cold night

Embarrassed you especially.

And every following hour for you

Would have been young with this my glee.

I was the youth that passed you by -

You did this without ill intent,

Your actions were in every way

Incorrigible, innocent.

Today, around eight, dashing through

Big Lubanka straight ahead,

Like bullet, like snowball,

Somewhere rushed the sled.

Already the laughter rang...

I froze as I peered:

Red down of the hair

And somebody tall was near!

We were with another, and opened

Another sled route entire,

With wished-for and dear to me -

More strongly, than I - desired.

"O, je n'en puis plus, j'etouffe!" -

You screamed in full voice of yours,

And boldly went tucking in

The hollow of fur on her.

World is happy, and evening is bold!

From the muff purchases fly...

Thus you rushed in a snowstorm,

Coat to coat, eye to eye.

And cruelest mutiny happened,

And white snow did pour.

I followed you with my eyes

For two seconds - and no more.

And caressed the longish nap

Upon his coat - without wrath.

O Snow Queen! Your little Kai

Is frozen to death.

Just like a young plant sprout

The neck is high and free.

Who'll tell the name, who - years,

Who - place, who - century?

The curve of not bright lips

Is capricious and wan,

But blinding is the terraced

Forehead of Beethoven.

Clean to endearment

Is the molten oval.

A hand, in which a whip would do,

And - in the silver - opal.

Hand, meriting a fiddlestick,

Gone into precious silk,

A beautiful hand also,

A hand that is unique.

You on your road pass me by,

And your hand do not touch I.

But my angst is eternal yet,

That you be the first I met.

Heart said "Dear!" at once

I forgave you all by chance,

Knowing nothing - not even the name!

Love me, love me, I proclaim.

From the curve of your lips with one glance

I see their forced arrogance,

By above brows jutting out:

This heart storms, no doubt.

With a black silk armor - dress,

Voice with gypsy hoarseness,

Until pain I like all things in thee,

Even that you are not a beauty.

Beauty, in summer won't wilt!

Not a flower - you're a stalk made of steel,

Meaner than mean, sharper than sharp, dear,

From what island born away here?

With a rod you do wonders, with a fan -

In each bone and in each vein,

In the form of each finger full of rage -

Woman's tenderness, boy's courage.

Parrying all ridicules with verse

I open for you and the Universe

All that's ready in you then

Stranger with forehead of Beethoven!

Under sun the eyes are burning,

Day's not equal day.

I tell you for that occasion

If I would betray:

Whose lips I had not been kissing

In the hour of love,

To whom I upon black midnight

Did not scarily vow -

To live, like a flower blooms, like

Mother tells a child,

Never with an eye to go

To any side..

See that cross made of cypress?

It's familiar to you.

All will wake - you only whistle

Under my window.

I'll repeat in hour of parting

When love comes to end

That I loved, yes that I loved these

Your masterful hands

And the eyes - somebody isn't

Gifted with a glance! -

Those that answer are demanding

For a look by chance.

You with your thrice-cursed passion -

God sees all, say I!

And demanding a payment for

An accidental sigh.

And I tiredly say, to listen

Hurry not at all!

Why is it that your own soul

Stands across my soul.

And again I'll also tell you:

All the same - start this! -

Far too young was this my mouth

For your gentle kiss.

Glance is luminous and daring,

Heart - like five year old...

Happy's he who did not meet you

On your road.

Before a mirror, where there's fog

And turbid sleep, your way

I want to try - where it will lead

And where there is the quay.

I see: the mast upon a ship,

And you - on deck, standing...

You - in the smoke of train... the fields

In lament of evening

The ravens flying overhead,

The evening fields in dew...

In all the four directions I

Am truly blessing you.

this one: I don't know what this is. it wasn't on my list, I haven't read all of Tsvetaeva's poems so I can't tell what the original is. it stays on the topic tho

???

The clock - what time it is?

Rang out.

Hollows of giant eyes,

Watered satin of the dress..

I just about see you, I guess,

Just about.

The neighboring porch

Has turned off the light.

Somewhere they love too much..

Your face's sketch

Is a scary sight.

It's semi-dark in the room,

One is the night.

Pierced by the light of the moon

Window deepened -

Like ice sheet.

"You give up" - the voice burst.

"I didn't fight by choice."

Voice from the moon catches frost.

Voice - like from hundred verst

This same voice!

Between us stood ray of moon,

Moving the world everywhere.

Intolerably shone

Metal red-brown

Of crazy hair.

Run of the moon forgot

History's run.

Mirror breaks moon apart.

Knocking of hooves far apart,

Screeching of a cart.

Light on the street burned down,

Running fades.

A cock will sing soon

Parting for two young

Ladies.

translations by Elaine Feinstein:

Are you happy? You never tell me.

Maybe it’s better like this.

You’ve kissed so many others –

which makes for sadness. In you, I see the heroines

of Shakespeare’s tragedies.

You, unhappy lady, were

never saved by anybody.

You have grown tired of repeating

the familiar words of love!

An iron ring on a bloodless hand

is more expressive,

I love you – like a storm burst

overhead – I must confess it;

all the more fiercely because you burn

and bite, and most of all

because our secret lives take

very different paths:

seduction and dark fate

are your inspiration.

To you, my aquiline demon,

I apologise. In a flash –

as if over a coffin – I realise

it was always too late to save you!

Even as I tremble – it may be

am dreaming – there

remains one enchanting irony:

for you – are not he.

Beneath this caressing, plush blanket

I call up yesterday’s dream.

What was it? Whose was the victory?

Who was defeated?

As I think it over again and again

I keep trying to find

the words for what happened:

Was it love?

Who was the hunter? Who the prey?

The roles reverse.

What does the Siberian tiger

understand as he purrs? - to this, wtf. it was a cat. we have two different words for tiger and cat. idk

Who in our duel of wills

was left holding a bauble?

Was it your heart – or mine

flew off at a gallop?

And, after all, what did happen?

Something desired – or regretted?

I can’t decide if I won

or if I was conquered,

Today it thawed, today

I stood by the window

soberly, with my lungs free,

almost satisfied.

I don’t know why – maybe,

my soul is tired –

I had no wish to touch

my mutinous pencil.

Instead I stood in a mist

neither good nor wicked,

with my finger quietly prodding

the window pane.

My soul felt no better and no worse

than that passer-by over there

or those puddles of mother-of-pearl

splattered by the sky,

the bird flying above

or a dog running;

even a beggar’s song does not

move me to tears.

Sweetly and cleverly, forgetfulness

has already taken over –

and by today another huge emotion

has melted in my soul.

You were too lazy to dress yourself,

or get up from the armchair.

– When I go towards you, the day

is joyful with my happiness.

You were troubled about leaving

so late at night in the cold.

– Any hour when I approach you

is healthy with my joy.

You mean no harm by any of this,

unchangeably innocent,

– I am your youth, which already

begins to pass you by.

About eight this evening, a sleigh

rushed past me, recklessly,

along Bolshaya Lubyanka

like a bullet or a snowball.

I heard your tinkling laugh

in the distance and froze,

staring: your fawn-coloured fur,

the tall figure at your side…

You are enjoying the pleasures

of a sleigh with someone else,

a chosen lover, already more

desired than I was!

– Oh, je n’en puis plus, j’étouffe,

you screamed at me today.

And now, boldly, you cover her

with the furs inside the sleigh.

The rest of the world is happy.

The evening glamorous.

Gifts and muffs… and you both rushing

into the blizzard – fur to fur.

Then a brutal surge of snow

turns everything white.

I could only follow the two of you

for a matter of seconds.

I stroke the long hair on my

coat and feel no anger…

Your little Kay has frozen to death

O great Snow Queen.

Night weeps over coffee grounds

as it looks to the east.

Its mouth is a tender blossom

but it has a monstrous flower.

Soon a young, thin moon will take

the place of scarlet dawn,

and I shall give you many

combs and rings.

The young moon between the branches

never guards anyone.

I shall give you ear-rings

bracelets, and chains!

Your bright eyes sparkle, as if

from under a heavy mane.

Are your horses jealous – those

thoroughbreds, so light on their feet?

You entered with incomparable panache,

and I dared not touch your hand.

Already I could feel the pain of longing

as if you were my very first love.

My heart whispered: Darling!

I forgave you in advance,

without knowing your name, I murmured

Love me! Please love me!

I looked at the curve of your lips,

that deliberate arrogance,

those heavy eyebrows – and

my heart began to thunder.

Your dress was a silky black shell,

your voice husky as a gypsy;

everything about you sweetly poignant

– even the fact you are no beauty.

You won’t fade over the summer even

if your flower and stalk are not steely,

for you are meaner and sharper than any

– from what island do you come,

with that huge fan, and walking stick?

In every bone, and wicked finger

I make out the gentleness of a woman

and the audacity of a boy.

How shall I treat these ironies in verse

or explain to the world

all the qualities I see in you?

My stranger with Beethoven’s brow!

How can I forget that perfume

of White Rose and tea, - to this, White Rose is a perfume

those figures of Sèvres above

a blazing fireplace.

There we stood. I was dressed

in splendid golden silk.

You – in a black knit jacket

with a winged collar.

As you entered, I remember your face

was almost colourless;

you stood biting a finger,

your head slightly tilted.

A helmet of red hair surrounded

your powerful forehead.

You were neither woman nor boy –

but stronger than I was.

With no reason to move, I stood up

and at once people gathered round –

someone even tried, as if in a joke,

to introduce us.

How calmly you put

your hand in mine,

and left in my palm a lingering

splinter of ice.

You took out a cigarette.

I offered you a light,

afraid of what I might do

if you looked into my face.

I remember how our glasses clinked

over a blue vase. Please

be my Orestes, I murmured

– and gave you a flower.

Your grey eyes flashed as you took

a handkerchief out of your

black suede purse – and slowly

let it drop to the floor.

Many eyes sparkle under the sun

and one day is not

like another. Let me tell you this,

in case I am unfaithful:

whoever I am kissing

in the hour of love,

whatever vows I make

in the dark of night

– since I can’t live like

an obedient child

or bloom like a flower without

looking at anyone else –

I swear by this cross of cypress

– you know it well –

if you whistle under my window

all my love will re-awaken.

Moscow’s hills are blue, the warm air

tasting of dust and tar.

I sleep all day or else I laugh

as if well again after winter.

I go home quietly without regretting

the poems I haven’t written,

the sound of wheels, or roasted almonds

matter more than a quatrain.

My head is magnificently empty,

my heart dangerously full;

my days are like tiny waves

seen from a small bridge.

Perhaps my look is too tender

for air that is barely warm.

I am already sick of summer –

though hardly recovered from winter.

Let me repeat, at the end of our love

on the very eve of parting,

how much I loved those powerful

hands of yours,

those eyes which do – or don’t –

look someone over, and

nevertheless demand a report

on my most casual glance.

Three times is your passion cursed!

God sees all of you

and insists on repentance

for every casual sigh.

Now let me say again, wearily

– don’t be too eager to hear this –

your soul now stands

in the way of my own.

And something else, since

it is almost evening –

that mouth of yours was young

when we first kissed,

your gaze was bold and light then

your being – five years old…

How fortunate are those

who have not crossed your path.

Some names are like sultry flowers

and glances like dancing flames.

There are dark and sinuous mouths

whose corners are deep and moist.

There are women with hair like helmets

whose fans smell faintly of ruin.

They are thirty. Why would you need

the soul of a Spartan child?

I want to look in the mirror, where

sleep is wrapped in mist.

I wonder where you are going

and where you will find solace.

I see the mast of a ship

with you on the deck,

or standing in the smoke of a train

in the sad fields of evening.

There is dew on the night grass

and above that – ravens.

I send you my blessings now

to every corner of those fields

At first, you loved beauty

above everything, curls

with a delicate touch of henna,

the melancholy sound of the zurna,

notes struck by a stallion’s

hooves against flint

or semi-precious stones

with patterned facets.

In the next love, your second:

an arch of fine eyebrows

and a silky carpet from

rose-coloured Bokhara,

Every finger was ringed then,

There was a birthmark on her cheek,

tanned flesh through Victorian

lace – and London at midnight!

Your third love was sweet

in some different way…

– But what trace remains in your heart

of me, my faithless one?

* -- same weird poem I've never seen before, unnumbered in this case as well

The clock – what time is it?

The hour has sounded.

I can barely make out

the hollows of huge eyes,

the flowing satin of your dress.

I can barely see you.

Next door the lights are out.

Someone is making love.

I am frightened by the

shape of your face.

It is half dark in the room;

Night is as lonely as if

a piece of ice pierced by moonlight

marks the window.

– Did you surrender?

I did not fight.

The voice froze as if from

A hundred miles away or the moon itself

Moonbeams stood between us

transforming the world.

The metal of your dark

furiously red hair

glowed unbearably.

History itself is forgotten,

in the flint of the moon, the looking glass

splinters: there are distant hooves,

and the squeak of a carriage. The street light

has gone out. Time no longer moves.

Soon the cock will crow. And two

young women will part.

#marina tsvetaeva #girlfriend #russian poetry #what a laundry post #own #марина цветаева #подруга

7 notes · View notes

huihuiheart · 4 years ago

Text

Hongjoong’s Angels - Hongjoong w/ f! Yeosang + f! San

-req by @pirate-hongjoong

Pairing: Platonic Hongjoong (Speaking in italics) + f! Yeosang + f! San + Female Reader (ft. the rest of Ateez)

Summary: The angels are about as elite as they come, but all of them are at risk now. For a mission that they would have assigned a dozen angels to, it comes down to just three. Would that be enough to prevent their whole world from falling apart though?

Warnings: Spies, violent themes, espionage, guns, suggestive themes, seduction, kidnapping, breaking and entering, fight scenes, tasers, explosions, lies, missiles, betrayal, some member x member themes (the couple is a secret to prevent spoilers), death.

Word Count: 8,086

Note: I still have not watched the most recent movie and this is an original piece, so please don’t give me backlash for it. I was very excited to do this though, because the original Charlie’s Angels movies were my childhood, so this seemed very fun.

“Once upon a time there were three very different little girls....”

“I’m sorry the only spot we have open is for a mascot.” The head cheerleader mocked, but Yeosang simply smiled, her braces on full display.

“Oh my god, that’s great though! It’ll be so much fun! And I still get to dance!” Yeosang practically bounded out of the hall, tripping over her own feet at the entrance and falling flat on the ground.

---

“Ladies and Gentleman, that does it. Your winning rider is Choi San on her prized horse Blue Ballad. The youngest yet to win this competition.” The announcer called over the sound system. Choi San standing proudly on the podium for photos with her horse standing behind her, taking in the applause.

---

“Y/L/N Y/N! You get in here right now young lady!” The principle called from her office, you smirking as you walked in and plopped down opposite her, “ Would you explain to me why we have you on camera spray painting the school wall?”

You snickered as she showed you the film they had, “Oh look that’s my favorite part.” You muse as you watch the clip of you giving the camera the bird before spray painting over it.

---

“Who grew up to be three very different women...”

Yeosang held the little hairless kitten in her arms, giggling at it as people gave her strange looks in passing.

“Maybe you should put that one down Yeosang, no one’s gonna adopt...it....”

“Awe, but there’s nothing wrong with her. Besides she’s so cute...and she doesn’t do that...”Yeosang counters gesturing to one of the hairballs from the other cats in the shop.

---

“Prep OR3 and tell them I’m on my way. We have to move people, this is life or death! Now scrub me in!” San huffs, washing her hands, as one of the assistants puts the gloves and scrubs on for her. San opening the door to the operating room with her back to not contaminate anything.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

---

“Hi, welcome to Good Burger. What can I get for you today?” Y/N droned over the drive-thru headset in the same monotone voice you did everyday, with a huff.

The car pulling up moments later, a rambunctious group of young men in the car, “Hey sweetheart, why don’t you give us a show with that meal?”

You gave them a deadpan look, before holding up the paper bag with their order in it and shaking it, throwing it into the window of their car before closing your drive-thru window with a fake smile and walking away.

“What they have in common is that they’re brilliant, they’re beautiful, and they work for me. My name is Hongjoong.”

“Good morning, angels.”

“Good morning Hongjoong!” You three replied in unison, sitting on the couch across from the little speaker. The device is your only connection to the mystery man that was your boss.

“So Hongjoong, what do you have for us today?” San questions, hugging your arm slightly as she sits to your right, eager to get a new assignment.

“Well, angels, we’ve recently been hired by Jeong Yunho, CEO of Jeong Technologies. They’re currently the largest private technology and information firm around. Their lead engineer Song Mingi was kidnapped, there’s footage of three assailants taking him from the front of Jeong Technologies science building the other night and there has been no sign of him since.”

“There any leads so far? Anyone who wants to see Jeong Technologies fall?” You ask, looking over the tape on the screen one last time, watching the poor engineer get shoved into the van by some masked men.

“Bosley hasn’t given you the files yet, has he?” Hongjoong chuckles over the speaker, “Where has my good friend gone off to now?”

“Bosley? I thought you told me your name was Wooyoung?” Yunho’s brows furrow as he walks in with the man in question.

“It is my name is Wooyoung. I’m simply in the Bosley family....it’s a term of endearment at this point.” Wooyoung shrugs, gesturing for Yunho to sit on the couch opposite of you, “I was just greeting our guest Hongjoong, no need to rush anyone.”

“Well, angels, it looks like you’re in capable hands. If you need anything, Wooyoung will provide you with it. I’ll be in touch.” With that, the speaker was off, and Wooyoung was handing you each of your respective files on the case. Almost identical, but each with slightly unique details based on your unique skill sets.

“So, you’re Jeong Yunho then?” Yeosang looks at him while offering her hand, each of you following suit and flustering the young, shy CEO who shakes your hands.

“I-I am. I-I just want to say that whatever you girls need to get him back, I’m happy to help. Mingi is more than an employee, he’s also a friend.” Yunho is flustered at first, but slowly it changes to concern for his missing friend.

“If you don’t mind me asking then, is that why he is so special? I mean, a kidnapping is usually handled by the police, so what about this makes it a better fit for us?” San inquires, barely looking up from the file finding bits of information that might prove useful.

“Not exactly. You see, we’re a private firm, but we recently landed a government project, and that’s what Mingi was working on. The intelligence involved in this project cannot get out, but Mingi’s the only one who currently knows how to access it or lock it down. Which is why we need to get him back before they can get it out of him.” Yunho explains, catching the attention of all the angels.

“What kind of information are we talking about here?” You finally dare to ask, not sure you’d like any answer that he would give you.

“Potentially limitless information. The program is designed to screen through all sources public and private without interfering with people’s privacy. What I mean is no person is scouring through people’s information. It uses facial recognition and voice recognition software to track people internationally based on the specs you give it. That person’s trail. With hopes of finding the most wanted criminals who have fallen off the face of the earth. When it pings with that, all the computer saves is the clip with their voice or face. Then it shares that with those who need to find that person. Without sharing private information about the person whose device it was with said investigators. Like an anonymous tip phone call of sorts, but it also provides a location. However, in theory, those safeties can be removed and you could potentially access any information on anyone from anywhere in the world.” Yunho worries his lip between his teeth as he explains the purpose of their latest program.

“And Mingi is the only one who knows the system well enough to do anything with it? To allow or prevent that from happening?” Yeosang sucks in a breath at the sorrowful nod that Yunho answers her with.

“Who would have the most to gain from kidnapping Mingi? People who knew of this program? Of its potential? Or, just have something to gain by taking him?” You look for the page you know you saw when skimming the file, the one that listed off Yunho and Mingi’s enemies.

“Honestly, we kept a tight lid on the information flow only those working on the project and myself knew. Everyone was very adamant about not discussing it outside of the work area for safety reasons, so unless someone got that information elsewhere, I don’t know. However, there is one person I have in mind...Park Seonghwa. My leading competitor, he’s been known to send spies into our staff to steal ideas and information. I wouldn’t put it past him to kidnap our lead engineer in hopes of getting ideas to put out before us.” Yunho shakes his head, “That man never gives up, I’m telling you.”

The angels nod in unison, turning to Wooyoung and handing back the files.

“Yunho we’re going to need access to your building. We’re gonna see if they left anything behind where they took Wooyoung.” San explains, to which Yunho immediately agrees.

“Also, we’ll need to check your systems to see if anyone did get in and access confidential information,” Yeosang added before the two looked at you.

“Then we’ll check Park Industries too, just in case. Though before that, we should probably make sure your home is secure, for all we know they could be after you too.” You try not to worry Yunho too much while still telling him the reality of the situation.

“Alright, angels, let’s move.” Yeosang jumps up, catching the keys that Wooyoung tosses to her so that the four of you can head out to Jeong Technologies to start unraveling this mystery.

“Find anything in here?” Yeosang asks, joining you and San from checking out the scene where Mingi was finally grabbed.

“Good luck, angels! I’ll be checking in!” Wooyoung calls after you before sighing as he sits down again, left all alone now.

“I’m not seeing any immediate signs of someone snooping around, but not that we’re in. I'll have the computer at the base run a more thorough analysis and let us know,” San responds, looking to you and Yunho.

“I haven’t found any bugs or signs of forced entry if there was something here, it would have to be moving in and out on an employee. I say we check them out, just to be safe.” Your suggestion is met with nods from the other two, “What about out front?”

“Ah, I found a few things...our van had some specialty tires on it based on the treads it left behind. We could look for suppliers and cross-reference based on that to find who’s van it is. Also, there was some debris left I’m assuming when the kidnappers jumped out of the van. We’ll see if these little plants can tell us anything about where they were before being here.” Yeosang proudly beams, holding up her prize.

“Okay, why don’t you two get those back to the base and Wooyoung. I’ll go check out Yunho’s house and make sure it’s safe for him there.” You insist, causing the two to roll their eyes slightly at you.

“Please, you just want to go with him because you think he’s hot,” Yeosang mumbles, making San chuckle while you fluster and throw a glare at her.

“Not my fault, the yummy CEO hired us! Now get out of here.” You hiss quietly at the two before shooing them as they laugh. Before turning to Yunho, who was flustered and blushing after watching that exchange.

“C-Come on, I’ll drive us.” He offers leading the way out of the building and to his car so that he can drive you to his home. Of course, solely for professional reasons. Pulling up to a large modern home after not too long, it somewhat secluded in the woods. Yunho welcomes you in and helps you with your jacket, offering you something to drink while you immediately set to work and stumbling across an interesting photo.

“Isn’t this Park Seonghwa with you?” You question holding the photo up to Yunho, who nods in response, only further intriguing you, “I thought you two were rivals?”

“We are now, but things weren’t always that way. In fact, I’d prefer if they still weren’t.” Yunho sighs softly, holding out a glass to you, “We went to school together growing up, even picked the same university to attend. Honestly, he was more like a brother to me than anything. Until he tried to steal my final during our last year...he was found out and kicked out of the school, but money spared him most of the consequences. He blamed me for what happened, though, and now it seems he wants to get me back in any way at all.”

You nod, placing the picture back down, feeling worse for the Yunho now, “So you lost one close friend already, and now the other is missing...that must be tough.” When Yunho nods, you reach out to gently squeeze his arm in reassurance, “Don’t worry, we’ll get Mingi back, and we won’t let anything happen to you. The house is clean, and I’m leaving you this panic button. If anything is wrong, you just press it, and the closest one of us will come right away.”

“So if I pressed it right now, that would mean you would come, right?” Yunho asks, stepping closer as you start to step away, flustering you some.

“Well, yes, but I just checked the whole house Yunho and nothing wrong.” You chuckle despite being shy, thanks to him.

“Yes, there is.” Yunho blurts, a little too quickly, making you raise a brow in question, “W-What if I don’t feel safe being here all alone? I-I think you should stay for a bit...y-you know just in case.”

He was so impossibly close right now, standing right before you. Not even letting you respond, though, before the two of you were kissing. Your coat slipping out of your arms again as you slipped them around his neck, not letting him go again.

Yunho pouts, hearing your phone ring, and you chuckle, answering it.

“Y/N, we need you back here, we’re going to regroup and talk to Hongjoong. How far out are you?” San asks over the phone, and she and Yeosang finish up in the lab, looking over their results again.

“Not too far, I’m just at Yunho’s.” You answer before cursing internally at giving that away, while the CEO besides you blushes.

“Still? Why? Was something wrong?” San’s voice is teasing, but you know she genuinely wanted to know in case there was an issue, and you just hadn’t gotten the chance to ask for their help yet.

“N-No, nothing’s wrong...I-I’m heading over now.” You quickly hang up before she can question you anymore, giving Yunho an apologetic look, “Well, duty calls. If anything happens, though, hit the panic button, alright?”

Yunho nods, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for another kiss, “ Be careful out there, okay? If you have to leave me, then at least come back in one piece.”

“I will.” You give him one last kiss before slipping out of his grasp to leave, knowing there was still plenty to do before Yunho would be safe and have his friend back.

San and Yeosang, smirking at you as you walked back into the base, their looks suggestive, now armed with the knowledge that you had spent the night at Yunho’s place. You sighed with a soft blush and brushed them off, taking your seat with them for yet another morning. Wooyoung, laughing, and accepting the incoming call.

“Good morning, angels.”

“Good morning, Hongjoong!”

“Do you girls have an update on the situation?”

“We looked into the tires, and it leads back to Park Industries. They have an arrangement with one of the shops they like this specific brand on all their trucks and vans. They also have vans matching the make and model of the van that was used in the kidnapping.” San closes her file on the track report, having nailed Park Seonghwa or at least his company to taking Mingi the question now was just where.

“The plant material was interesting, it allowed me to narrow down to a fifty-mile area where they had been before, the only problem was that any way we cross-referenced things, in that area we found no connection to Park Industries at all, whether directly or otherwise.” Yeosang added with a shrug, “Unless they’ve managed to keep that hidden very well from us.”

“The computer didn’t come up with anything either. It looks as though Park Industries never got into Jeong Technologies computer.” Wooyoung continues before looking at you, now that they had pretty much covered all the leads before speaking up for you, “Oh, and Yunho’s house has been cleared.”

“It seems like whoever is hiding those details from us is doing a very good job of it. Get into Park Industries and see if you can find the last few things that you need to find Mingi, we might not have a lot of time left before they get that information.”

“We’re on it, Hongjoong!”

“So what’s the play then, angels?” Wooyoung inquires, leaning across the desk and smiling at you, “And what do you need for it?”

“You know...we could actually use your help on this one, Wooyoung.” You smiled at him, “How would you like to play a young, up and coming CEO? Willing to give Park Industries exclusive access to specialty supplies?”

“I’ll be your assistant, there to help you if anything happens and seduce Seonghwa enough to get the key for San to get in with.” You reassured Wooyoung as you three pull up the building specs.

“I’ll distract the others around, so San will just have to worry about security making their rounds and cameras on the outside. Once inside the room, though, there is a laser grid, moving, very high end. The code to disable them changes every five minutes. so it’s not likely we’ll be able to get that unless Y/N can manage it in Seonghwa’s office somehow.” Yeosang added before looking to San.

“I’ll be in and out with what we need before you even know it.” San nods looking at Wooyoung, “So what do you say Woo, you in?”

“Well...whatever the angels need, the angels get.” Wooyoung shrugs before chuckling softly, “I’m in.”

Sitting in your van outside of Park Industries and doing final preparations, San spotted something watching the building for any last-minute security changes. She couldn’t be sure, though, until she pulled up a still from the kidnapping video.

“Guys, I just realized something we’ve been missing.” San turns to the rest of you, showing the clip where a snake tattoo is visible on the kidnapper’s ankle, “We should have run with this from the start.”

“Well, what good does that do us now? We can’t call this mission off.” Yeosang frowns softly and San tsks, shaking her head.

“We won’t, we just would have gotten here sooner.” San zooms in on the building security guard from the camera hidden in the side of the van, “Considering this is the tattooed man.”

You look at the screen before initiating the facial recognition software and grabbing molar mics for you and Wooyoung, “When you figure it out, let me know. I’m meeting Wooyoung now.”

You slipped out of the side of the van that faced away from the building, sneaking a few blocks away to where Wooyoung was waiting in the driver’s seat of a black Lamborgini Huracan. Smoothing over your dress one last time, you get into the passenger seat, handing him his mic and earpiece before putting on your own.

“Ready, Mr. Jung?” You smirked softly at Wooyoung, who chuckles in response, starting up the car.

“Honestly, if it means getting to do stuff like this and driving nice cars all the time, I might just have to tag along more.” He drives off to head towards the main entrance of Park Industries, you two needed to be the first to go in.

“Y/N, we got a match over facial recognition. His name is Choi Jongho, he hasn’t been working for Seonghwa long, but they have a history. We better keep an eye on him though, he has a pretty remarkable rep. Numerous fighting styles mastered, history in dealing with arms. Keep an eye on him, don’t let him catch you off guard.” You hear San over the mic, knowing Wooyoung does too as you notice him tense while driving.

“Relax Wooyoung, just act natural, and nothing will go wrong. Besides, even if it did, you have the three of us there to protect you.” You assured him, leading him to take a breath and relax slightly, as he pulled up. Parking the car and the both of you got out. Showing Jongho your identification in passing, him eyeing you both up for a moment before opening the door to let you through.

“We’re in, work your magic girls.” You whisper, before taking over at the front desk, “Hello, we’re here for the meeting with Mr. Park. His 2 o’clock.”

The lady raised a brow at you, clearly not impressed until Wooyoung spoke up, “Is there a problem here? I’m a busy man, but I made the time to meet with CEO Park out of professional courtesy, I’d appreciate it if you made it happen, doll.”

She flusters, stuttering a bit behind her desk, “O-Of course CEO Jung, my apologies. It won’t happen again.”

“Good work Wooyoung!” Yeosang cheered over the mic as the lady led the way for you both through the building. That being her cue as she slipped out of the van next. Heading up to the building with a blinding smile as she stopped in front of Jongho.

“Hi, I think I’m supposed to go in here, yes?” Yeosang fumbles through her bag for show, before finding her company id for him, “It’s my first day, so I’m just a little lost.”

Her helpless giggle and clueless innocent nature must have done the trick, Jongho scanning her id and even giving a small smile back before getting the door for her. San drove the van around to the back, preparing to make her entrance.

“Let me know when we’re good, Yeosang.” She says, grabbing her ‘delivery’ and going in through the service entrance, before slipping into a bathroom to change into professional clothes, hiding her face from cameras the entire time.

“Give me five minutes,” Yeosang responds, stumbling into the room where the various cubicles were by the mainframe, blushing and giggling as people start to stare. Yeosang works her charms, pouting softly and twirling her hair, “I’m new, and I think I managed to get lost. Do any of you think you could help me?”

Yeosang played further into the act as they scrambled over each other to get to her, and show her the various areas of the building. More than eager to be around a beautiful woman after being cooped up at their desk for hours without end. Giving her verbal cue to San who slipped out after the group had passed and headed in the opposite direction as them, just waiting for the key to be dropped off.

“You make a very appealing deal, Jung Wooyoung. Draw it up and send it to me, I’m more than interested in it.” Seonghwa smiles from his spot across from Wooyoung.

“That won’t be necessary, my assistance already drew it up. I hope it meets your liking?” Wooyoung gestures you forward. You round the desk and lean forward to place and open the drawn up papers on the desk, letting Seonghwa see your form in the process. It is a good distraction as your free hand slipped the key card off his desk, before taking your spot besides Wooyoung again. Slipping the card into his hand as Seonghwa reads and signs the document, Wooyoung signs afterward before collecting up the document, as his phone rings.

“If you’ll excuse me, I forgot I have another appointment. However, my assistant can stay to discuss anything else about the contract with you.” Wooyoung shakes Seonghwa’s hand before answering the fake call and stepping out of the room to hand the card off to San and get out of the building. The exchange, going successfully.

“Just keep him occupied for me Y/N.” San moves towards the room, hiding her face from view as she slips in to look for access. The easy part passed now just came the harder part of slipping through the lasers.

You trailed your fingertips over Seonghwa’s desk as you moved back to the same side as him, “Is there anything I can help you with, anything at all?”

Your hands, moving to massage his shoulders, noticing something sitting proudly on his desk that you hadn’t the first time. The same picture you had seen at Yunho’s house, of the two of them together.

“Oh, angel, as enticing as that sounds coming from such a beauty, I’ll have to pass. After all, I’ve got so much to do you know...with kidnapping people and all.” Seonghwa grabs your wrist-twisting you around and pinning your front to the desk beneath him. The others heard what happened clear as day.

“I’ll get Wooyoung out, you just finish up getting what we came for San and then help Y/N if necessary.” Yeosang is already in the ladies' room, slipping up and into a vent to make her way out without being swarmed again, dropping out and finding Wooyoung, but too late as Jongho pulls him through a door and shoves him into a van, while a man blocks Yeosang.

“Jongho got Wooyoung.” She announces, flipping a switch in all the angels. None of them were happy that their Wooyoung had been taken.

“San get that stuff back to base, we’ll clean up here.” You say before twisting enough to elbow him in the face. Still, missing something, though, as Seonghwa tased you in the side. The world, going black and leaving the mission up to the other two for the time being.

Slowly you come too, eyes shifting around for any sign of Wooyoung or Mingi as you do. Instead, you hear someone tsking, followed by footsteps, drawing your attention forward and away from the dirtied surroundings. Yunho before you, as he leans down towards your face, pinching your jaw between his thumb and forefinger to make you look at him instead of at Seonghwa behind him.

“I may have underestimated you, girls...I thought it would be easier to snatch all of you at once. The others got away, though, with something that belongs to us, and you’re going to help us get it back, angel.” Yunho’s glare only hardens further when you smirk at him, feeling the molar mic still in your mouth, even if they took your earpiece, knowing it’d help Yeosang and San even more.

“See that was your problem, you underestimated us. Besides, there are more than just three angels, a lot more.” You shrug, leaning back in your chair, knowing it was only a matter of time before help showed. Not that you couldn’t break out of the chair if you wanted to, but it was more fun letting them think they’d won and spilling everything to you while you learned everything about their security from the inside.

Seonghwa stepped over and joined Yunho, slipping his arms around Yunho’s waist and resting his chin on Yunho’s shoulder, “Oh, we know Y/N. After all, once an angel always an angel, right? And there are quite a few from what we can tell.”

Seonghwa tilts Yunho’s body away from you, letting you see the monitors working on trying to break into Hongjoong and the angel’s database, not able to get much more than the number of angels at this point. You knew security was the best there was.

“If only there were a way to get access to their personal information, though? You know...so anyone who wishes could get revenge on the angels...oh wait, we have this.” Seonghwa tauntingly waves Wooyoung’s phone in front of your face, “Almost like when Hongjoong calls, we can use his voice to gain access to the system or something of the sort.”

Your heart races, knowing that was the one way to gain access to everything there, even to information on angels who retired, “Why would you want to do that to the angels? Just money? There’s plenty of easier to access information you could sell than this.”

Yunho scoffs, rolling his eyes, “No angel, this one is personal. Seonghwa’s sister was an angel, on a team much like yours...only her team didn’t bring her home. So we’re gonna teach the rest of you a lesson.”

“Once I find the two that left my sister, though...I’ll handle them myself.” Seonghwa hisses before letting Yunho go, gripping on your chair as his gaze darkens, “Now let me guess, they took what they got from me back to your little base and are going to try and find us?”

“Try?” It’s your turn to scoff now, “Don’t tell me you’re already underestimating us again, they won’t try...they will find us. And then breaking into the database would be the easiest challenge you’d have to overcome today.”

Yunho clicks his tongue, pulling a gun out of the back of his pants before putting it up to your temple, the click of the safety echoing in the room, “Just answer the question, or we won’t let you see any more of what we have planned. Which would be a real shame considering things are just now starting to get interesting.”

You sigh softly, gaze shifting to Yunho for a moment, before back at Seonghwa, “Yeah, that’s what they would do.”

Seonghwa smirking as he leans back, “See angel, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” His eyes flick over to Yunho now, “Come on, babe, put the gun away. The little angel is cooperating now, and we want her to see just what’s happening, don’t we love?”

Yunho rolls his eyes, putting the gun away again, pulling out the duck tape and toying with it some, “ I hope you know, you won’t be able to depend on Yeosang and San much longer...they’ve got their own problems to deal with.”

He nods to Seonghwa, who pulls up the coordinates of your base, turning to you again, “I’ll give you a moment to look and say goodbye, they’re about to get quite the bang.”

“Wha-” Your statement is cut off by Yunho putting the duck tape over your mouth and putting a finger over where your lips would be, shushing you.

“Shh, isn’t that much better?” Yunho chuckles as Seonghwa clicks enter on the keyboard, launching a missile straight at the coordinates of your home base. Leaving, you to hope that Yeosang and San heard enough to know to get out by now, but not quite sure if they did.

“We gotta move fast San, who knows what that could mean,” Yeosang calls, snatching one of the bags of supplies from the base and slinging it over her shoulder so they could have something while they rushed out.

“I know, I’m shutting this down now. I’ll be right behind you.” San responds, finishing up, before grabbing her bag and rushing out behind Yeosang. The two almost at the car by the time the missile hits the base, the force of the blast throwing them tumbling to the ground. Thankfully, though, with little more to worry about than a few scratches.

“Yep, they definitely want us dead.” Yeosang grunts, picking herself up off the ground with a groan and dusting off.

“Well, unlucky for them, I know where they are now...Seonghwa didn’t have any buildings in that radius, but Yunho does...that’s where we’re going.” San pulls herself off the ground too, before getting in the car and putting the location in. Letting Yeosang drive as they head towards the location, and parking a safe distance away from where they wouldn’t be seen.

“Security looks pretty tight, we won’t be able to just storm our way in without help...”Yeosang sighs, shaking her head as she lowers the binoculars she was using to get a better view of the front entrance.

“So, we’ll just have to make our own way in then.” San shrugs, “Come on, I have an idea.”

Seonghwa spotted the tear that rolled down your face before you could spot it and chuckled, “Aw, who knew angels could cry~”

He mocked you before having Jongho bring Mingi in and shove him into the chair in front of the monitors before going back to guard Wooyoung until he was needed, “It’s almost time, Mingi. I’m going to need you to get us set up. Or there’s gonna be consequences.”

Yunho smirks playfully, brushing a finger over your cheek and collecting the tear, “You know you were rather pretty that night...but I think I prefer you this kind of broken.”

You glared at him, pulling away from his touch, which only made him chuckle. Until Jongho brought Wooyoung in. Seonghwa handed him the phone that was hardwired to the headset he handed Yunho, and the computer.

“You’re going to call Hongjoong for us.” Yunho demands of Wooyoung, pointing the gun at him. Wooyoung looks at you, with big frightened eyes. You nodded as you spotted a flash of Yeosang’s blonde hair in the security camera for the attic of the building. Seonghwa noticed the same thing and sent Jongho to deal with it. Wooyoung dials Hongjoong’s number, but when there’s no answer his hands shake, going to call again until Seonghwa stops him.

“Let Hongjoong call back, it’ll work better for our plan.” Seonghwa insists watching and waiting until the phone rings again, gesturing for Yunho to answer and Wooyoung to keep his mouth shut.

“H-Hello? This is Yunho.” He puts the front on again, despite grinning wickedly at you, “Wooyoung can’t come to the phone this second.”

“Oh, hi Yunho, this is Hongjoong. Are you with the angels again?”

“Yeah, they had a lead, and since they weren’t sure where it was secure, they just had me go back to the base and hang out with Wooyoung. I think he went to the kitchen or something though, he shouldn’t take too long, hopefully, that’s okay.” Yunho watches Seonghwa and Mingi for the signal saying they got enough to use, to get into the system.

“That’s perfectly fine, Yunho. I’m glad you can be someplace safe right now. I don’t mind waiting for a few moments. Have the angels been doing alright?”

“Oh, the angels are perfect. Thank you so much for all the help, I honestly don’t know what I would do without you guys.” Yunho answers, and you here Hongjoong give an intrigued hum.

“Wonderful...you said you were at the base with Wooyoung, right?”

“That’s right, I think I hear him coming back right now if you want to wait. Or I can take a message for you?” Yunho licks his lips as Mingi tells Seonghwa that they need just a little bit more.

“That’s interesting cause I thought I heard that the base just blew up.”

Your eyes widen, Wooyoung prepares to yell for Hongjoong to get help, but not quick enough as Yunho hangs up, “You’re gonna have to make that work Mingi, and fast. I don’t think we have a lot of time.”

“I-I don’t know if I can...”Mingi’s hands shake with fear as he works at the computer, Yunho huffing, impatiently as he puts the gun to Mingi’s head now.

“I don’t believe that was a question, Mingi. Now do it.” Yunho insists, taking over and making Seonghwa chuckle with a smirk.

“You’re so hot when you’re pissed.” Seonghwa winks at the other man, the pair cocky until Yeosang drops down from the roof, behind Seonghwa, cocking a gun at his head.

“Put it down, Yunho.” She glares at him, Yunho grumbling, but doing as she asks, only because it’s for Seonghwa, “Now kick it over to Wooyoung...Wooyoung I want you to take the bullets out.”

Wooyoung is obviously scared out of his mind. He does as he’s told, though, knowing that right now Yeosang has the upper hand. The girl chuckling afterward, the three of you from the agency, knowing something that the others didn’t...angels don’t use guns. Wooyoung quickly moved to undo your ties before they had a chance to get the upper hand again, so at least the odds would be a bit more even.

“How did you get past Jongho, though?” Yunho asked, only further infuriated by the current situation. Yeosang’s brows furrowing at the question.

“What do you mean, I never saw...”Her words fade out, glancing at the security cameras to see Jongho making it up to where Yeosang had come in. Her eyes, widening knowing that San was up there right now. Seonghwa, taking the opportunity to grab her wrist that held the gun and twisting it around until she dropped it, picking it up and pointing it at Yeosang.

“That was a mistake. You should have just run away, little angel.” Seonghwa hisses before pulling the trigger, thrown off by the click sound that it gave instead of going off.

“Wow, for having a sister as an angel, you don’t know much hm?....angels don’t use guns.” You smirk, expecting a fight, but you don’t get one. Seonghwa simply snatched the drive with the locations from the angel’s database on it and clicked enter again.

“That one’s special......that one’s Hongjoong’s.” He growls before running off, with Yunho rushing behind him.

“Wooyoung, get Mingi out of here and call Hongjoong to try and warn him in time. Y/N and I are going after them since San is trying to get to the angels and warn them if she can...plus she has her hands full with the henchman.” Yeosang tells him before you and Yeosang are racing after the two men who hold the key to all the angels’ past and present, confidential information.

San was linked into the satellite they had been using to access the angels’ database, not there in time to stop them, but able to copy and document everything they had gotten. That way, they could get to or warn the angels at risk before the information got out if they weren’t able to stop Yunho and Seonghwa. Seemingly clueless to the fact that Jongho was coming up behind her. Only noticing something when he pulls out a knife, the metal reflecting sunlight flooding in from the window in front of her, sending a glare over her laptop screen.

San noticed and spun to sweep Jongho’s leg, knocking him over in surprise and dropping the knife over the edge of the floor, dropping floors below. She’s quick to close the laptop and secure it in the case, slipping the strap around her form, where it could safely sit on her back. Jongho flips back onto his feet, to find her tying a knot into a rope hanging from one of the beams in the roof. Stopping her from going anywhere, by grabbing her hair and pulling her back so harshly she stumbles back and out of his hold with a yelp. It is a miracle she didn’t crush the laptop, but obvious that Jongho wasn’t going to let her get away without a fight.

San slipping on her gloves, getting an idea. When Jongho surges forward to get her again, she slips between his legs, sliding across the ground and grabbing the rope. It was supposed to be her way down, as the other end was secured to a sandbag. If Jongho didn’t want to let her slip away so easily, though, maybe he’d rather take that trip instead.

“You really can’t stay still, can you? You’re a real pain.” Jongho frowns, that turning to agitation when San smirks at him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so slow.” She taunts back, hoping to get the response she wants of him. Knowing she’d need an opening to be able to get the rope in place. Jongho gives her just that when he turns and kicks, aiming for her face. Only San ducks, the hand with the rope slipping around his foot, before pulling the knot tight as she rolls out of his way. Moving quickly to get on her feet again, jumping up and grabbing onto one of the beams before swinging and kicking full force at Jongho’s chest with both legs.

Jongho spills over the edge, plummeting stories down. San, bouncing off the edge after him and grabbing the bag as it reaches the top, now having to use Jongho as a counterweight.

Wooyoung and Mingi, stopping abruptly and shrieking when Jongho is suddenly hanging upside down in front of them before suddenly heading back up where he came from, soon replaced by San. The pair have paled in shock and fear, trembling as they look at San with shaky eyes.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to join you, girls, on missions anymore.” Wooyoung’s voice is soft as he blinks at San. The whole experience, proving to be far more than he was used to or expecting.

San giggles and kisses his cheek, handing him the laptop bag, “You’re doing amazing, Woo. Take this and warn the other angels, I’m going to help Y/N and Yeosang. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, she runs off, leaving Wooyoung and Mingi to take the laptop and bolt for one of the cars while security was preoccupied with helping Yunho and Seonghwa out. Easily snatching one of their cars, Wooyoung hands Mingi the laptop bag.

“Hold on to that! We have some angels to save.”

Wooyoung pulls up to the carnage remaining at Hongjoong’s house, the whole place gone. He chews on his lip, uncertain where to go now. Until he gets a phone call, answering with furrowed brows.

“I’m sending you an address Wooyoung, meet me there...we’ll have everything we need to help our girls.”

Seonghwa and Yunho closed a door behind them and secured it so that Yeosang and Y/N couldn’t get through. Even as they tried to bust it down, the pair cursed as they can’t get it open, even together.

“Hold on! I’m coming.” San yells, watching the struggle from where she races to meet them, the trio trying again together now. It finally being enough to breach the barrier. The guards, turning along with Yunho and Seonghwa.

Yunho pushed Seonghwa towards the car that had been started right before the angels got through, “I’ll take care of them, just go get your revenge.”

“Yunho’s mine.” You tell the girls, eager to finally be able to pay back the man for the way he’d played you since the beginning of this entire involvement.

“I’ve got the guards, Yeo you go get Seonghwa,” San tells the other, who quickly snatches a motorcycle from one of the guards, slipping on a helmet and chasing after Seonghwa before anyone can stop her from doing so. Leaving San to handle roughly five guards unless you could finish Yunho quickly and get there to help her.

“Awe, is the little angel angry? That’s too bad.” Yunho jabs, evidently not at all fearful of you or the threat you pose to him, “After I kill you, I’m going to join Seonghwa in taking out each and every angel...painfully.”

“Show me your worst then, tough guy, cause I’m not going down without a fight.” You taunt right back, waiting for him to come closer. Though thrown off as his foot tosses a board up, kicking it in your direction, instead of coming straight for you. It's something you can easily deflect, but it hides Yunho’s form long enough that you aren’t prepared for him to be at you, metal chain in hand, and quickly wrapped around your throat. Leaving you gasping and squirming, barely able to turn around before he presses you against the wall, your hands gripping the metal tightly, trying to pull it off your neck enough to get a breath.

You’re lucky to get a foot on the wall, using the leverage and walking up the wall to flip over Yunho. The chains now in your hand instead of around your throat. You twist, pulling the chain, and Yunho along with and onto the ground. Hovering over him before landing a hard punch to knock him out, while he was still stunned.

“You okay, San?” You question hearing the sounds stop from the other group, the girl huffing as she flips her hair out of her face with a soft chuckle, before approaching footsteps.

“Yeah, just a normal day on the job. You good too?” She asks, watching you secure Yunho with the chains with a nod. Doing it on the off chance, he regained consciousness before someone came to get him. She laughs at his state, “Was it really necessary to leave a mark like that?”

“Yeah...it was.” You shrug, backing away from him to head towards another motorcycle sitting there and grabbing a helmet, “Come on, let’s go help, Yeo.”

Seonghwa spotted Yeosang in his rearview mirror as he drove away, the latter quickly working to close the gap between the two of them. Seonghwa moving to take a more public road now, weaving in and out of cars hoping Yeosang wouldn't spot one before it could hit her. It didn't matter, though, as she reached his Jeep, jumping off the bike, to grab onto the back of it. Yeosang holds on tightly as Seonghwa made a sudden turn trying to throw her off. Yeosang hanging on long enough to be able to pull herself up and into the back, though.

Just because Yeosang no longer had to worry about the risk of being flung off the car immediately, didn't mean she had time to catch her breath. She was quick to climb up, punching Seonghwa and trying to gain control over the wheel, though he was not thrown off for long, before shoving her back off him. Yeosang slamming back into the car door on the opposite side. It popped open just as she grabbed the frame of the car to pull herself back in. Shutting the door behind herself, but getting an idea from what had happened.

Yeosang grabbed the frame of the car, kicking across the center console to throw Seonghwa against the door on his side. It popped open like the other one had his grip on the wheel the only thing keeping him inside until she did it again at least. Seonghwa rolled out of the car as Yeosang hopped into the driver's seat and safely pulled it over and to a stop. You and San, reaching them as Seonghwa pulled himself back up.

"Hongjoong is gone and your base is gone. What can the three of you do to stop me at this point? You're alone and don't have anything." Seonghwa continues to refuse the fact that he didn't stand a chance. Rejecting defeat until the very end.

The three of you standing, side-by-side in front of him, in the signature angels ass-kicking pose. You shake your head, "You're wrong, Seonghwa. You're the only one here who's alone."

"Besides, once an angel, always an angel." A voice calls from behind Seonghwa. More angels, currently, and returned surrounding him down, "You picked the wrong fight."

The three of you looking at each other and smirking, before knocking Seonghwa out while he was distracted. Wooyoung and Mingi driving up, the former immediately jumping out, still frantic.

"I see you girls got reinforcements. Did I do alright? You're all fine, right?" Wooyoung questions looking over you girls, making you chuckle and nod, to which he breathes a soft sigh of relief.

"What about Hongjoong, is he okay?" Yeosang asks, voicing your worries. Wooyoung smiles, pulling out his phone and clicking the button.

"Hello, angels. Good work on another successful mission. I think you girls have earned yourselves a vacation... don't get too comfortable though, it's only until you get a new base."

"Thank you, Hongjoong! We're glad you're okay."

Wooyoung hangs up, turning back to the car as Mingi flusters and opens the door shyly for Yeosang. His cheeks tinted a bright pink, smiling softly at her as his eyes sparkle.

"T-Thank you for saving me." Mingi looks her right in the eyes, "M-Maybe I could make it up to you...o-over dinner sometime? U-Unless you're seeing someone?"

"Yeah." Yeosang smiles, before seeing his face fall and realizing how that sounded, "I-I mean, yeah, I'd love to do dinner or something... I-I'm not seeing anyone."

You and San roll your eyes, laughing softly. Before you finally speak up, "Come on you two, get in the car."

"Yeah, Hongjoong's giving us a vacation, and I want to soak in as much beach time as I can get before we're off again," San adds, Wooyoung rolling his eyes at your antics and getting in the driver's seat once more to drive the whole group of you off.

The vacation on Hongjoong this time, it being the least he could do to take care of his angels.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong #pirate-hongjoong #yeosang #yeosang imagines #yeosang oneshot #san oneshot #san #san imagines

24 notes · View notes

whitherliliesbloom · 4 years ago

Text

yet with each descent do we rise again

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #26 - when pigs fly ]

[ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 2,548 words ] ★ [ fairy au ]

illya skawi & alphinaud leveilleur. in an au where il mheg is home to a nation of fae folk, all of whom are ruled by titania illya. mentions @ancientechos‘ laurelis, @firstblesssed‘s elletha and @windupnamazu‘s lunya. contains the origins / lore of porxies in this au. i also reveal illya’s fae name for the first time in this fic but who really cares-

if porxies were the manifestation of the impossible being made possible, why did the sight of them bring titania so much grief?

He’s seen no skies clearer than one that hung over Il Mheg, a testament to the majesty that was the fae folk and their magics, no doubt. Despite being told again and again by no few fairies and pixies alike that their kingdom was not how it used to be - her luster tarnished by the leeches that were the mortal race and the marks they’d left upon the land’s beauty - he, in all his ignorant mortal bliss, still believed the kingdom of rainbows to easily be the most beautiful place he’s had the fortune to set foot upon.

And as he greets the stunning soft gradients of blues and cotton candy white that was the sunny morning sky, looking up and being momentarily blinded by the scorching, yet welcoming sun above, he hears a flutter and a twinkle behind him, the back of his neck tickled by a light gust that urges him to spin around as quickly as his artificial rhotano blue wings would allow him.

“'Q-Quel amrun, Alphinaud!” A voice of exceeding melody, one that rose in the air and echoed in his ears like the gentle rustle of leaves upon the wind greeted him in a language he had not yet mastered, and he finds color rising up his cheeks as he takes far too many seconds to find the words to respond.

“A-and good morning to you, your majesty.”

Evidently pleased at his understanding her verbal fae tongue, the queen smiles wider than he’s accustomed to, and the radiance she exudes as if she were a beam of pure, unfiltered light almost sends him reeling.

“’Tis good to see fae blood still courses through your veins.”

Alphinaud bites back a chuckle, and he resists the urge to speak as he bows, watching beneath a curtain of thin lashes as the queen turns her head to breath in the scent of morning dew before directing her tender gaze towards the young man.

His gift - and by extension his duty was still something of an awkward point of conversation between him and the ruler of Il Mheg, despite knowing full well that this arrangement, as gloomy as it made him to remember, was only temporary. Once he finds the cure and the source of the curse, and fulfills his responsibilities as far as it pleased Titania, he will surely be made to leave. Il Mheg was no place for mortals, not after what they’ve done to the fae.

And he was still very much mortal, despite the ring of silver and golden flower embellishments he wore upon his finger, and the gossamer wings that sprouted from his back.

“What’s on your schedule today? Helping Beq Thon with those awful weeds again?” The queen asks, swinging her dainty little legs as she hovered just several feet above marble. Her crystalline wings flutter gently with uncanny grace like petals, and from their tips fell sparkling dusts like thistledown that swirled and were carried away with the chilly lake breeze. The flap of his wings by comparison were harsh and clumsy, and he’d very understandably been called a disgrace to all fairies by all who saw his poor attempts at flying as they do.

Thankfully not, he almost answers, but his conscious is immediately assaulted by a pang of guilt as he remembers the grace in which Illya had granted him stay within her kingdom, and the boundless amounts of kindness that not only she, but the other residents of the fae nation has shown him thus far. Instead he manages something of a forced smile before shaking his head. “I came to see if you needed any sort of assistance, your majesty.”

“Me?” The young fae widens her eyes, hand rising up to rest upon her chest. The limpid silken scarf that hung from her hands ripple upon the wind with her movements. “Oh.. No, no.. There’s nothing I need help with.”

“Is that so? Have you some sort of business outside the castle, then? If you do then, surely, there’s some way I can help you.”

A dust of pink spreads across her pallid cheeks and up to the tips of her pointed ears, but she is quick to hide her blush beneath the light shadows of her pure white bangs

“I-I was... just here to feed the porxies.”

“Porxies?”

As if summoned by the call of their name, a passel of squeaky porxies burst through the bushes, their sizeable ears flapping as they gathered around the queen and oinked in delight. Alphinaud is taken aback for but a moment, mouth agape as he watches Titania toss her pearlescent cane into the air. It sparkles for a moment before it morphs into a hefty palm-sized satchel that lands safely in the queen’s palms.

“Here you go. There’s enough for everyone, so don’t be greedy!”

Illya beckons to the porxies with a wave as she opens the sack, and the pungent smell of grime, rotten fruits and crushed flower paste sends him gasping and grimacing, to which the queen could only flash an apologetic wry smile for.

“Ah.. I’m sorry for the smell.. Their diet is rather um.. peculiar. ”

“N..No! Pray.. forgive me my response.. I was just.... surprised..” Alphinaud pauses, watching as the porxies feasted happily upon their breakfast completely unaware of the stench. “I never would have thought their appetite would be whetted by such... waste.”

With large chomps and nibbles, the porxies begin to disperse in number as they eat their fill from the queen’s gentle palms, the grime of their feed leaving a dirty black stain upon her otherwise supple, clean hands.

“They say one man’s waste is another’s treasure...” Illya murmurs as the second to last porxie in line flutters away, leaving the last of the pack to eat off the scraps of the scraps slowly, but gratefully. “W-well.. porxies, in this case.. But they help with cleaning up the trash by eating them.”

Despite the familiar euphony of her words, and the kindly gaze she held towards the lone porxie, he sensed a touch of melancholy, of a sadness that he knew she would hate for him to notice. It certainly must not have been the queen’s intentions - he knew it wouldn’t have been given her tendency for hiding any emotions that she deemed to be unqueenly of her. And if the accounts of her friends and advisor were to be trusted, it’s that Titania of all people bottled up a mountains worth of burden and sorrow inside herself - one she refused to show to anyone.

Alphinaud is silent as he watches her, glowing and mesmerizing in her beauty as she gently strokes the top of the porxies head as it squeals gleefully at her. He can swear the sun’s rays grow twice more incandescent as they shone through her shimmering, glassy wings in pink and purple hues like stained glass, only second to the warm, glittering hues of her eyes that reminded him of a field of lavender and violets.

She was ever like a beacon of effervescent light - not just to him, but to Il Mheg and her people. And yet she would not allow herself even the luxury of grieving, of showing her sadness to the world for fear of going against her duties. The divine royal sparkles that shone in her eyes were now clouded by the rain, of the hidden words she’s stopped herself from saying for who knows how long now.

And it pained him, enough to drive him to insolence, and he wouldn’t bemoan her if she thought to have him banished on the spot for it.

“What has you feeling so downcast, your majesty?”

His question sends panic rippling down her spine, and for a moment the queen gasps as she turns her head up to stare wide eyed at him. She thinks to shake her head furiously before flying away.. but caught in the headlights of his concerned, and frustratingly sincere gaze she gulps, and finally allows herself to frown.

It takes a lengthy silence, one accompanied by chirping and the distant chatters of the pixies, to be true.. but his attention is focused squarely on the lady, who places her palms on either sides of the porxies cheeks and narrows her eyes with a heart wrenching, upsetting look of defeat. And when she finally speaks, her voice no longer held the tone of a celebratory songbird, but like little windchimes, barely louder than a whisper as it rang amidst the drizzle.

“Do you happen to know where porxies came from, Alphinaud?”

The question causes his head to tilt curiously, and he answers with an honest ignorance.

“Are they.. not simply another type of fae?”

“Well... yes and no. They’re um... like you.” Illya strokes the porxies skin lovingly, as if in apology for speaking of it. But its beady eyes remain bright and naive as it looks up at its queen as if she meant the entire world to it. “They’re not fae born.. They were made into fae by a Titania.”

The queen closes her eyes, heaving a sigh through barely parted rosy lips.

“There was once a saying.. A figure of speech that I believe is of mortal origin.. but it was spoken by fae folk once too. ‘Iire beag roi’.. Referring to the concept of impossibilities.” Slowly Titania leans her head forward to nudge the porxies snout with her forehead, a sorrowful sign of affection before it sounds out a snort of delight and flutters away.

“Titania had a son - Ose Iala was his birth name.. But he always preferred the names of mortals far more than one of his fae. And he kept that fascination of mortals and the outside world even as he grew older, old enough to voice out his disdain for our rules against executing mortals who stepped inside Il Mheg soil.

‘The day mortals and fae will ever coexist is the day pigs will fly’, Titania did say with a mocking glare towards Ose Iala.. and the prince, in his fury towards his father’s stubborn intolerance, casted a spell upon a herd of pigs that wandered into Il Mheg from a farm in Lakeland.”

Alphinaud’s heart sinks into his stomach as he listens, expression awash with pity as he looks upon Titania tilting her head up to the sky, galaxy worn eyes tired and wary. And though he needn’t hear the rest of her words to know what.. or who exactly she was referring to, he allows her to pour what little bits of her caged heart she had the courage to share.

“My father.. He made the impossible possible, preached that there was no such thing as impossibilities to his people and told me the same when I was but a sprout who barely just learned to fly. And he made the impossibility of fae folk existing with mortals a beautiful, wonderful reality.”

Il Mheg has changed more within the past 3 generations than it did with the countless millenniums before then, for better or for worse.. The name of the Titania who brought about this tide of change was scorned by most of the fae kingdom and forgotten by the mortals who had seen Il Mheg as nothing but pools of gil and resources they could steal from.

But that was a cruelty and a despair that has wrongfully be thrust upon the Titania of the present - of the one who bears the heaviest burden of them all. For beneath the opulence of her glamorous, glittering dresses and the pristine gemstones upon her flowery tiara, she was but a young girl - a fae equivalent to a mortal of teenage age, who has lost family and freedom both. And above all else, the lonely little fairy was now shackled with duty, of her obligations to undo the mistakes Ose Iala had done to blemish their kingdom.

“And yet... despite the miracle I’ve been granted, I’m worthless as queen. I cannot save my people.” Her hands clench into fists, and blood drains from her knuckles and threatens to pour out of the cuts her nails leave as imprints upon her palms. “Forget Feo Sul, I...I’m not worthy of bearing the mortal name Illya either.”

Alphinaud mutters her name beneath his breath, and the sweetness that is left on the tip of his tongue as he does causes his heart to skip a beat. Feo Sul. The flower of treasures. Despite what Titania might say, the young scholar knows better than any other that her name fits perfectly better than any other fae or mortal he might ever meet.

“But you have saved your people. The fae are able to find hope to renew Il Mheg because of you.” With a furrowed brow, Alphinaud hovers forward, daring himself to lift his hand and rest over clenched fists.

“Elletha tells me of how much you work to keep the infirmary running, casting your magics so hard that the palms of your hands would start burning and she’d have to stop you. I’ve heard from so many pixies that the fairy that appears at night, Lunya... she was once a mortal that you saved from death despite her being a plunderer.” His words at once cause her eyes to water, but also soothes the tension in her hands, and she finds her fingers relaxing against his reassuring grasp.

“And Laurelis.. Whenever I speak to her, she wouldn’t stop talking about you! About how you sacrificed some of your own royal blood to feed the soil of Timh Gyeus on the first day after your coronation so that flowers would bloom again.. Or how you dove head first into the longmirror lake to rid the waters of the litter and oil.”

“A-Alphinaud.. P-please-”

“Or how you caught frost on your wings as you dug through the snowy mountains for a week looking for tsasan setgel.. Or the way you ripped the cursed thorns the Fuath had grown around the pillars of Lyhe Ghiah as a prank with your own bare hands because you could not bear the thought of having anyone else do so! ”

His hand tightens its hold, fingers laced and intertwined with the gaps of her own as he moves closer and raises his voice. So that she will hear him, so that she will listen, and face the reality of her own kind deeds even if she’d refused to thus far.

“You’re the miracle Il Mheg needed. The fact that you yet stand, strong and tall as you are despite everything you’ve been through, that is a miracle above all others.”

The tears that trickle down her cheeks and falls off her chin glisten as little gems, reflecting off the rays of the morning sun with a rainbow hue that he feels tempted to catch with his fingers, were they not occupied with holding hers. And the tiny panic he feels in his beating heart dissipates as when she sniffs, and forces a glowing smile upon her face.

“ Iire beag roi.. How silly a notion, I’m nothing of the sort.”

And Alphinaud smiles back, eyes narrowing as he feels her fingers wrap around his in return.

“ gu dearbh. Pigs already fly, remember?”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #alphinaud leveilleur #illya skawi #alphinaud #we've come so far #fanfic #mine #fairy au #fairy queen au #kiwisffxivwrite2020 #wow who still remembers this au #of course! nobody!

26 notes · View notes

mattchase82 · 4 years ago

Text

The Story of St. Philomena

It is said that Saint Philomena revealed Her story to three people who did not know one another and who resided in different parts of the world. These private revelations unveiled the story of Saint Philomena’s life in great detail and were amazingly identical accounts.

"Filomena" [Ital.] "Philomène" [Fr.] "Philomena" [Eng.]

One of the most well-known recipients of this revelation was the Foundress of the Oblates of Our Lady of Sorrows, Mother Maria Luisa di Gesù, a Dominican Tertiary.

On August 3, 1833, after having received the Eucharist, the nun Maria was praying before Saint Philomena’s statue and at that moment felt a strong desire to know the true date of the Saint’s martyrdom. August 10 was the day St. Philomena’s relics had arrived in Mugnano, Italy. This date was significant to the people of Mugnano, but not to those who lived elsewhere. As Maria contemplated this, she closed her eyes and suddenly a gracious and gentle voice came from the direction of the statue, saying:

"Dear Sister, August the tenth was the day of my rest, my triumph, my birth into Heaven, my entering into the possession of such eternal goods as the human mind cannot possibly imagine. That is why my Heavenly Spouse disposed, by His most high decrees that my coming to Mugnano should be on the day which had seen my coming to Heaven! He prepared so many circumstances which should make my arrival at Mugnano glorious and triumphant; giving joy to all the people, even though the priest who brought me had absolutely decided that my translation should take place on the fifth of the month very quietly in his own house. My omnipotent Spouse impeded him with so many obstacles that the priest, although he did all he could to carry out his plan, could not do so. And so it came about that the said translation was made on the tenth, the day of my feast in Heaven."

Mother Maria was overwhelmed by this and thought she had fallen as prey to this illusion. She took refuge in the Sacrament of Penance, confessing the whole event to her spiritual director. He was not so hasty in disposing of the matter. He proceeded to write to Don Francesco de Lucia Link Out in Mugnano and inquired about the truth of whether or not he originally intended to have the translation on August 5. Don Francesco’s reply confirmed that he indeed encountered many obstacles which detained him from carrying out his plan to arrive in Mugnano on the fifth.

At that, Mother Luisa’ director granted her obedience to ask St. Philomena other details of her life and martyrdom. Again, Mother Luisa went to the Saint, and begged her not to take any notice of her unworthiness, but to consider that it was a matter of holy obedience, and to reveal more about her life. After that time, there came a day when Maria was alone in her cell and felt her eyes being closed. She heard the gracious voice of St. Philomena. The following account of the life of Saint Philomena is taken from the official account of Fr. Di Lucia’s Relazione Istorici di Santa Filomena and subsequent annals from locutions received by Sr. Luisa di Gesu in August of 1833. These revelations received approval by the Holy Office, (presently the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith) on December 21, 1833.

"My dear Sister, I am the daughter of a Prince who governed a small state in Greece. My mother is also of royal blood. My parents were without children. They were idolaters. They continually offered sacrifices and prayers to their false gods.

A doctor from Rome named Publius lived in the palace in the service of my father. This doctor professed Christianity. Seeing the affliction of my parents, by the impulse of the Holy Ghost, he spoke to them of Christianity, and promised to pray for them if they consented to receive Baptism. The grace which accompanied his words enlightened their understanding and triumphed over their will. They became Christians and obtained the long desired happiness that Publius had assured them as the reward of their conversion. At the moment of my birth, they gave me the name of "Lumena," an allusion to the light of Faith of which I had been, as it were, the fruit. The day of my Baptism they called me "Filumena," or "Daughter of Light," because on that day I was born to the Faith. The affection which my parents bore me was so great that they had me always with them.

It was on this account that they took me to Rome on a journey that my father was obliged to make on the occasion of an unjust war with which he was threatened by the haughty Diocletian. I was then thirteen years old. On our arrival in the capital of the world, we proceeded to the palace of the Emperor and were admitted for an audience. As soon as Diocletian saw me, his eyes were fixed upon me. He appeared to be pre-possessed in this manner during the entire time that my father was stating with animated feelings everything that could serve for his defense.

As soon as Father had ceased to speak, the Emperor desired him to be disturbed no longer, to banish all fear, to think only of living in happiness. These are the Emperor’s words, ‘I shall place at your disposal all the force of the Empire. I ask only one thing, that is the hand of your daughter.’ My father, dazzled with an honor he was far from expecting, willingly acceded on the spot to the proposal of the Emperor.

Saint Philomena Cloth Banner

When we returned to our own dwelling, Father and Mother did all they could to induce me to yield to Diocletian’s wishes and theirs. I cried, ‘Do you wish, that for the love of a man, I should break the promise I have made to Jesus Christ? My virginity belongs to him. I can no longer dispose of it.’

‘But you were young then, too young,’ answered my father, ‘to have formed such an engagement.’ He joined the most terrible threats to the command that he gave me to accept the hand of Diocletian. The grace of my God rendered me invincible, and my father, not being able to make the Emperor relent, in order to disengage himself from the promise he had given, was obliged by Diocletian to bring me to the Imperial Chamber.

I had to withstand for some time beforehand a new attack from my father’s anger. My mother, uniting her efforts to his, endeavored to conquer my resolution. Caresses, threats, everything was employed touce me to compliance. At last, I saw both of my parents fall at my knees and say to me with tears in their eyes, ‘My child have pity on your father, your mother, your country, our country, our subjects.’

‘No! No,’ I answered them. ‘My virginity, which I have vowed to God, comes before everything, before you, before my country. My kingdom is heaven.’

Sainte PhilomèneSainte Philomène

My words plunged them into despair and they brought me before the Emperor, who on his part did all in his power to win me. But his promises, his allurements, his threats, were equally useless. He then flew into a violent fit of anger and, influenced by the Devil, had me cast into one of the prisons of the palace, where he had me loaded with chains. Thinking that pain and shame would weaken the courage with which my Divine Spouse inspired me, he came to see me every day. After several days, the Emperor issued an order for my chains to be loosed, that I might take a small portion of bread and water. He renewed his attacks, some of which would have been fatal to purity had it not been for the grace of God.

The defeats which he always experienced were for me the preludes to new tortures. Prayer supported me. I did not cease to recommend myself to Jesus and his most pure Mother. My captivity had lasted thirty-seven days, when, in the midst of a heavenly light, I saw Mary holding the Divine Son in her arms.

‘My daughter,’ she said to me, ‘three days more of prison and after forty days you shall leave this state of pain.’

Such happy news made my heart beat with joy, but as the Queen of Angels had added that I should quit my prison, to sustain, in frightful torments a combat far more terrible than those preceding, I fell instantly from joy to the most cruel anguish; I thought it would kill me.

‘Have courage, my child,’ Mary then said to me; ‘are you unaware of the love of predilection that I bear for you? The name, which you received in baptism, is the pledge of it for the resemblance which it has to that of my Son and to mine. You are called Lumena, as your Spouse is called Light, Star, Sun, as I myself am called Aurora, Star, the Moon in the fullness of its brightness, and Sun. Fear not, I will aid you. Now nature, whose weakness humbles you, asserts its law. In the moment of combat, grace will come to lend you its force, and your Angel, who was also mine, Gabriel, whose name expresses strength, will come to your aid. I will recommend you especially to his care, as the well beloved among my children.’

These words of the Queen of virgins gave me courage again, and the vision disappeared, leaving my prison filled with a celestial perfume. I experienced a joy out of this world. Something indefinable.

What the Queen of Angels had prepared me for was soon experienced. Diocletian, despairing of bending me, decided on public chastisement to offend my virtue. He condemned me to be stripped and scourged like the Spouse I preferred to him. These are his horrifying words.

‘Since she is not ashamed to prefer to an Emperor like me, a malefactor condemned to an infamous death by his own people, she deserves that my justice shall treat her as he was treated.’

The prison guards hesitated to unclothe me entirely but they did tie me to a column in the presence of the great men of the court. They lashed me with violence until I was bathed in blood. My whole body felt like one open wound, but I did not faint.

The tyrant had me dragged back to the dungeon, expecting me to die. I hoped to join my heavenly Spouse. Two angels, shining with light, appeared to me in the darkness. They poured a soothing balm on my wounds, bestowing on me a vigor I did not have before the torture.

When the Emperor was informed by the change that had come over me, he had me brought before him. He viewed me with a greedy desire and tried to persuade me that I owed my healing and regained vigor to Jupiter, another god that he, the Emperor, had sent to me. He attempted to impress me with his belief that Jupiter desired me to be Empress of Rome. Joining to these seductive words promises of great honor, including the most flattering words, Diocletian tried to caress me. Fiendishly, he attempted to complete the work of Hell which he had begun. The Divine Spirit to whom I am indebted for constancy in preserving my purity seemed to fill me with light and knowledge and to all the proofs which I gave of the solidity of our Faith, neither Diocletian nor his courtiers could find an answer.

Then, the frenzied Emperor dashed at me, commanding a guard to chain an anchor around my neck and bury me deep in the waters of the Tiber. The order was executed. I was cast into the water, but God sent me two angels who unfastened the anchor. It fell into the river mud, where it remains no doubt to the present time. The angels transported me gently in full view of the multitude upon the riverbank. I came back unharmed, not even wet, after being plunged with the heavy anchor.

When a cry of joy rose from the debauchers on the shore, and so many embraced Christianity by proclaiming their belief in my God, Diocletian attributed my preservation to secret magic. Then the Emperor had me dragged through the streets of Rome and shot with a shower of arrows. My blood flowed, but I did not faint. Diocletian thought that I was dying and commanded the guards to carry me back to the dungeon. Heaven honored me with a new favor there. I fell into a sweet sleep, and I found myself, on awaking, perfectly cured.

Diocletian learned about it. ‘Well, then,’ he cried in a fit of rage, ‘let her be pierced with sharp darts a second time, and let her die in that torture.’ They hastened to obey him. Again, the archers bent their bows. They gathered all their strength, but the arrows refused to second their intentions. The Emperor was present. In a rage, he called me a magician, and thinking that the action of fire could destroy the enchantment, ordered the darts to be made in a furnace and directed against my heart. He was obeyed, but these darts, after having passed through a part of the space which they were to cross to come to me, took a quite contrary direction and returned to strike those by whom they had been hurled. Six of the archers were killed by them. Several among them renounced paganism, and the people began to render public testimony to the power of God that protected me.

These murmurs and acclamations infuriated the tyrant. He determined to hasten my death by ordering my head to be cut off. My soul took flight towards my heavenly Spouse, who placed me, with the crown of virginity and the palm of martyrdom, in a distinguished place among the elect. The day that was so happy for me and saw me enter into glory was Friday, the third hour after mid-day, the same hour that saw my Divine Master expire."

What is noteworthy from a historical perspective is not only that this revelation was confirmed by two other individuals unknown to each other (one a priest, the other a historian), but these other historical facts: 1) The Third Century Roman Emperor was known for executing Christians by the use of arrows, exemplified by St. Sebastian; 2) The Third Century Roman Emperor was also known for killing Christians by tying anchors around their necks and throwing them into the water; 3) The reference to "Lumena" -- the name given to her at birth, "Light" -- and then at Baptism, "Fi Lumena," "Daughter of Light," may explain the arrangement of the tiles found at the grave as "Lumena," her first given name, was on the first tile.

The Facts of St. Philomena

In spite of much research, little is known of the life of St. Philomena before the discovery of her celebrated tomb in the Catacombs of Priscilla in Rome. Details about her are derived from the revelation that she herself made to the Servant of God, Sister Maria Luisa of Jesus, her fervent devotee, on August 3, 1833.

The following are historical facts beginning with the discovery of St. Philomena’s tomb in 1802.

May 24, 1802 - A Tomb Is Discovered

Revolution, war, famine, atheism, and persecution had plagued Europe during the eighteenth century, and the Jansenist heresy had touched and withered the spiritual vigor of Catholics. Men cameo believe in their own abilities and the right of any man to think as they did.

In these fierce days of persecution, the primitive Christians were obliged to perform the sacred rites of their holy religion in the subterranean caverns (cryptœ) which extend on every side of the Eternal City, but clustered most thickly at the south-east corner, near the Appain Way and the Ardeatine Way. These caverns, long-believed to have been originally mere sand-pits, arenaria, out of which sand was dug for building purposes, are now proved beyond all doubt to have been constructed at great expense by noble and wealthy Christian families as places of burial. During three consecutive centuries, the Catacombs, as they are called, were places where the faithful had their temples and altars; where they met to pray in common and where the Pontiffs celebrated "The Gathering," or the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. They were in constant use also up to the cessation of persecution, and even to 410 A.D as the last resting-place of the Saints and martyrs. In the terrible irruptions of the Goths and Lombards, many of these cemeteries, especially of the Via Salaria, were sacrilegiously plundered of their sacred treasures, and in part destroyed. When happier times ensued - at the commencement of the eighth century and culminating with Pope St. Paschal - all the relics of the Popes and principal martyrs and confessors which had hitherto lain in the Catacombs were removed for greater safety to the churches of Rome. As time passed, the Catacombs were abandoned and in great part closed, and the knowledge of them was lost altogether, until they were accidentally re-discovered by some laborer in the year 1578. Even then they seem to have been left unguarded, and permission was given to the faithful to take away whatever relics they chose.

However, the story begins quite plainly, though and perhaps sadly. On May 24, 1802, workers had just returned to the excavations begun earlier in a tufa pit in an underground cemetery dedicated to the family of Priscilla (the ancient Catacomb of Saint Priscilla), underneath the soil on the road that goes out of the Porta Salaria from Rome to Ancona.

Laboring in the darkness, a fossor reached the center of the Catacomb not far from the Greek Chapel, and very close to the largest luminaries where he was clearing loose sand which had fallen from one of the galleries on the upper level from a loculus when his pick struck a cemented surface.

Upon closer examination the concrete surface appeared to be some tiles which would normally enclose a loculus and, as previously instructed by Msgr. Ponzetti, Custodian of the Holy Relics, he immediately ceased the excavation.

May 25, 1802 - The Tomb Is Revealed

Fr. Filippo Ludovici, Vatican overseer of the excavation was informed, and on the following day, May 25, 1802, Fr. Ludovici, accompanied by several observers, descended into the Catacomb, and witnessed the full uncovering of the loculus, whereby with the removal of sand, three brick funeral tiles (the tiles were given to the Sanctuary on August 14, 1827 by Pope Leo XII) were revealed which bore an epitaph painted in lead. Each tile measured approximately 50 centimeters long and had a total length of 1.74 centimeters (5 feet 9 inches).

LumenaLumena Pax TePax Te Cum FiCum Fi

The painted inscription on the three funeral tiles appeared as follows: tile one - LUMENA; tile two - PAXTE; tile three - CUM FI. The loculus was documented by Msgr. Ponzetti, Custodian of the Holy Relics, as bearing "FILUMENA," an interpretation of the epitaph consistent with both the ancient custom of beginning inscriptions from the second tile and the logical etymological context. The result is a full reading of the epitaph as "PAX TECUM FILUMENA."

This funereal inscription presents the distinctive characteristics of apostolic times, rarely found in other cemeteries more recent than the Priscilla.

The name of "Filumena" is officially granted to the sacred remains examined on May 25, 1802, as recorded in the document issued by Ponzetti as Custodian of the Sacred Relics which released the remains of this Christian martyr to the Diocese of Nola on June 8, 1805:

8 Iunii 1805

Dono dedi Ven. Ecclesiae Archipresbyterali terrae Mugnano Dioecesis Nolanae corpus Sanctae Christi Martyris

FILUMENAE

Nominis proprii sic picti in tribus Tabulis laterariis cinabro

LUMENA PAXTE CUM FI

in pulverem et in fragminaactum per me infrascriptum Custodem extractum cum vasculo vitreo fracto ex Coemeterio Priscillae Via Salaria Nova die 25 maii 1802, quod collocavi in capsula lignea charta colorata cooperta et consignavi Illmo Dominico Caesari pro Illmo et Rmo D. Bartholomaeo de Caesare Epo Potentino.

HYACINTHUS PONZETTI, Custos.

Symbols of Martyrdom

In addition to the inscription, so eloquent in its simplicity, the sepulchral tiles exhibited certain symbols, including tokens of martyrdom. There were an anchor and arrow pointing upwards, a palm, and under the palm another anchor, a javelin pointing upwards, another arrow pointing downwards, and a lily.

Students of Christian symbols generally agree on the interpretation of these figures on the tiles. The emblems breathe the language of faith and hope.

In the anchor there is a resemblance to the cross, the sign of faith in Christ. In both Greek and Roman antiquity there is mention of the sacred anchor. The anchor also connotes hope, refuge, and preservation of life. In the legend of the martyred Saint Philomena there is a passage about the Roman emperor’s wrath when an anchor he had fastened to the girl’s neck wedged in the mud of the Tiber River. Other Saints, including Pope Clement, suffered martyrdom by having an anchor tied to the neck and being dropped into the sea. Emperor Trajan as well as Tberius decreed this form of brutality.

The two arrows pointing in opposite directions signify torment similar to that which Tiberius exercised on St. Sebastian.

On the removal of the tiles in the cavity, were disclosed the remains of an interment, which competent authority pronounced to be those of a young girl from thirteen to fifteen years of age. The head was small and very much fractured, but the principal bones were entire. Surgeons ascertained the type of wounds inflicted. Physicians examined the skeleton - its small unbroken bones, fractured skull, and eye sockets. The maiden had been lanced.

At the end of the loculus was a small glass vial or vase with half-broken sides of which were encrusted within with a dust of blackish color indicating blood clinging to glass fragments, and with the lower portion of the vial still intact and firmly embedded in the cement . It was undoubtedly blood which had been collected at the death of the martyr, according to the custom of Christians during the persecutions, and placed with the remains as a testimonial to her death by martyrdom. As early as 1668, the Congregation of Indulgences and Relics had decided that the genuineness of a true relic of a martyr hinged somewhat on the finding of the vial or vase filled with the martyr’s blood. The same congregation renewed the decision in 1863.

This blood was loosened from the broken pieces of the vial to which it adhered, and was carefully placed in a crystal urn. Those present, among whom were men of great learning of the Court of Inquiry, were startled by a strange chemical reaction. As soon as these little particles of blood fell into the sun, they glittered like burnished gold or silver, or shone like diamonds and precious jewels, or, again, were resplendent in all colors of the rainbow. The chemical change of the blood convinced the Church dignitaries that a new star had arisen among the Blessed. Cardinal Ruffo Scilla renewed the seals on the new reliquary after the blood of the Saint had been safeguarded in the crystal vial, and deposed in the authentication: "And we have seen her blood change into several brilliant little precious stones of various colors; also into gold and silver."

This extraordinary phenomenon continues to the present day. The precious remains were reverently placed in a wooden case, lined with silk and stuffed with fine cotton and transferred to the Custodia Generale, or treasury of Sacred Relics, where they remained there for three years.

August 10, 1805 - Transfer Of the Relics from Rome to the Sanctuary of St. Philomena, Mugnano del Cardinale, Av., Italy

The remains of Filumena departed from Rome on July 1, 1805 and arrived at Mugnano on August 10, 1805 where they have remained since the transferal.

In 1805, England was at war with France. At this time, France was intrigued with Ireland Scotland had attempted to invade England with its aim on the Indian Empire. Napoleon, who had been the Commander-in-Chief of the French Army which invaded and conquered Italy, was now Emperor of the French.

That summer, the Bishop-elect of Petenza went to Rome to be consecrated, and also to congratulate Pope Pius VII on his return from France, on behalf of the King of Naples, the Spanish Don Carlos. He took with him as his chaplain, a holy missionary priest, Don Francesco de Lucia Link Out, who was serving the parish of Mugnano north of Naples. Don Francesco, a cultured and pious priest, was born in Mugnano del Cardinale on September 19, 1772. He completed his studies in the Congregation of the Most Blessed Sacrament of Lucera. Ordained a priest on September 19, 1796, he opened a school of philosophy and literature in Naples. He quickly gained the esteem and affection of distinguished Neapolitan people in education circles. Amongst these was the Venerable Jesuit Servant of God, Guiseppe Maria Pignatelli.

Don Francesco De LuciaDon Francesco De LuciaDon Francesco had a heavy heart. His parish was infested with impurities of revolutionary ideas, resentment against the authority of the Church, unbelief, and immorality. His secret hope was to get the Bishop to use his authority to get him the relics of a martyr - a Saint who would come back with him and help him convert his parish. He knew exactly what he wanted - a virgin martyr whose name was known.

The Guardian of the Custodia Generale, which Don Francesco soon got permission to visit, was evidently taken by this devout and humble priest, and said he would help him acquire what he desired, and told him to choose among the relics in the Custodia. In mid-May, Don Francesco was taken to the Treasure House of Relics, which was under the care of a worthy guardian, Monsignor Don Giacinto Ponzetti. There were those of thirteen martyrs, but only the names of three were known - one was a child, one an adult and then there was ‘Filumena.’ He had wanted a virgin martyr from the start, but what was more, when he stood before the case containing Filumena’s relics, he felt alive with spiritual joy, and it was as though She instantly took away the heaviness of his heart. This was undoubtedly the helper he wanted! The Guardian promised to arrange for this. Imagine his disappointment, then, when the official reply came that bodies of martyrs whose names were known were so few, that such as were found must be kept for special churches or dioceses.

His sadness doubled. Rome is not the best place in which to spend the summer - or at least it was not in those days, when the marshes of the Campagna had not been drained. As a result of the intense heat, and his considerable worry and disappointment, Don Francesco’s health began to decline. A friend offered him the relics of an unnamed martyr to comfort him, but he would not accept it. He was convinced that only Filumena could help him convert his parish. One night when he was burning with fever, he promised that if Filumena would grant him sleep, he would do everything possible to take her as his patron to Mugnano. Miraculously, his fever was gone and he fell asleep awakening in perfect health.

This confirmed to him that Filumena wanted to come with him to Mugnano just as much as he did. This time he went to the newly consecrated Bishop, and asked him to use his influence. When the Bishop heard the story, he agreed that the Saint appeared to want to go to Mugnano, and added his request to Don Francesco’s. The Guardian gladly acted on this permission to entrust the relics to Don Francesco and felt certain that Filumena would perform miracles in Mugnano.

Delighted, the good Bishop and Don Francesco took possession of the precious casket, and proceeded to bring Filumena to Naples. With many prayers and every honor, the casket was placed in the front of the Episcopal carriage.

Saint Philomena and La Salette

The cortege was due in the little town on Sunday, August 10, and on the vigil, bells were joyfully rung to announce the event. At dawn, a messenger was sent by Don Francesco to proclaim that the sacred body was coming. Soon an unusual excitement reigned, and crowds were seen proceeding from all directions to meet and welcome Her. The day was to be noted as a memorable one in the archives of Mugnano. More than forty priests in their richest vestments, the members of the various confraternities and representatives from the neighboring parishes went in procession displaying their banners. The road was strewn with olive branches and exquisite flowers. When the body came into sight, all the bells were heard "sprinkling air with holy sounds," and heavenly music, sounds of bomb and gun fire, and groups of young men and young girls united in song welcomed Her in the most honorable way.

After entering the town the cortege took fully two hours to reach the church of the Madonna del grazie. Upon arrival of the sacred body, it was deposited under a triumphal dias near the Gospel side of the high altar, and Solemn High Mass was sung.

Don Francesco de Lucia Link Out, to give a solid and profound base to the devotion to the Saint, founded the Association of the Children of St. Philomena. He was the first rector of the sanctuary and most vigilant guardian of the holy remains of the Saint. He dedicated his priestly life for the glory of God and for souls. After 41 years of untiring apostolate in the propagation of devotion to Saint Filumena in all the Kingdom of the Two Sicilys, acquiring the regard of cardinals and bishops, he rendered his great soul to God on April 9, 1847.

January 30, 1837 - Pope Gregory XVI Confirmed the Feast of St. Philomena Established as August 11

Pope Gregory XVIPope Gregory XVIFor thirty years miracles continued to increase in number at Mugnano, and the glory of the "Thaumaturga" (Wonder-worker) filled the Universe. Various appeals were addressed to the Holy See so that a feast day might be established, and an Office and Mass permitted in her honor.

In 1835, Pauline Jaricot, Foundress of the great French lay social institution in aid of the missions, Propagation of the Faith, and also foundress of the Association of the Living Rosary, and of other good works, was close to death. She suffered from a heart disease which had affected her health for some years and had left her suffering from frequent heart attacks. She had been unable to walk for the previous year and a quarter. The slow deterioration was leading to death. Doctors had given up on her case and deemed it hopeless.

Drawn by an irresistible attraction, she wanted to visit Rome and the Holy Father. When she arrived at Rome after a terrible journey, her state was such that she could not go to the Vatican, and it was the Holy Father who went to visit her in the convent of Trinita dei Monti. The young lady asked Pope Gregory XVI if he would approve the cult of Saint Filumena, if she was cured by the Saint.

"Surely, my child," replied the august Pontiff, "for that would indeed be a first class miracle." This miracle indeed took place at the Sanctuary of Saint Filumena. On her return to Rome, the Sovereign Pontiff wanted Miss Jaricot to stay a full year there until all doubts about the completeness of the cure were quashed. Then, in a decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, confirmed by the Pope on January 30, 1837, the feast of Saint Philomena was established as the eleventh of August.

A recount of the miracle:

Toward the evening of Saturday, August 9, 1835, vigil of the feast of the Translation of Saint Filumena, during the Solemn Vespers, a French lady was seen to arrive accompanied by her chaplain, a maid and a servant. These last two, with much trouble, lowered their mistress from the coach onto a chair, and carried her through the crowd to the foot of the altar of the Reliquary where she remained in prayer until the end of the function.

After 15 months of suffering, the lady was pallid, wasted and weak. Being in the final stages of heart disease, she resembled more a corpse than a live person.

The next day, on August 10, she was taken to the Sanctuary a number of times to participate in various Masses and to receive Holy Communion. She attended the Evening Office as she had on Monday. Her sad state was observed by a number of doctors from Naples who had come for the feast day celebrations.

Up until that evening, she gave no sign of improvement though she later revealed that she had felt herself healed soon after Communion, but was afraid to announce it because of the commotion the people would make. However, after the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, when the people had left, she rose and walked back to her lodging without help. She had truly been cured. When they quickly found out, the enthusiasm of the public was indescribable. At the second hour of the night, 9:30 p.m., the church bells pealed, and the shouts of joy of the crowds replied. Miss Jaricot had to show herself to satisfy the wishes of the people.

Out of gratitude she took the haven of the daughters of Saint Filumena: The Little Sisters of St. Philomena, and added to her name those of Philomena-Maria. The same gratitude brought her back to Mungano in 1839 for a four-day visit. After cruel trials, borne with the resignation and serenity of the Saints, she entered into the sleep of the just on January 9, 1862. Her body rests in the Church of Saint Polycarp awaiting the honor of being raised to the altars. The process of her beatification has been under way for a number of years.

On January 30, 1837, Pope Gregory XVI issued a solemn pontifical decree confirming the rescript of the Congregation of Rites authorizing Saint Philomena’s public cultus and approving the office, Mass of the Common of a virgin and martyr with a proper fourth lesson at Matins in honor of St. Philomena, virgin and martyr on August 11. This papal approval of public liturgical devotion was first granted to the clergy of the Diocese of Nola, and later extended to other dioceses, including Rome itself. The fourth lesson officially inserted into the Breviary in liturgical honor of Saint Philomena on August 11 acknowledges the finding of her remains in the Priscilla catacombs, her martyrdom status, the rapid spread of her extensive popular devotion amidst the faithful due to her miraculous intercession, and the permission of the Pope to celebrate liturgically the office and mass in her honor (as here presented):

DIE XI AUGUSTI

IN FESTO S. PHILUMENAE

Virginis et Martyris

In II NOCTURNO - LECTIO IV

Inter cetera martyrum sepulcra, quae in coemeterio Priscillae ad viam Salariam reperiri solent, illud exstitit quo repositum fuerat sanctae Philumenae corpus, uti ex tumuli inscriptione, tribus laterculis apposita, perlegebatur. Licet vero inventa fuerit phiala sanguinis, et alia descripta conspicerentur martyrii insignia, dolendum tamen est res ab eadem gestas actaque ac genus martyrii quod ipsa fecit obscura perstitisse. Ceterum ubi primum sacrum hoc corpus, ex beneficentia Pii septimi initio pontificatus ejus acceptum, cultui fidelis populi propositum fuit Mugnani in Nolana dioecesi, ingens illico famae celebritas ac religio erga sanctam martyrem percrebuit, praesertim ob signa quae ejusdem praesidio accessisse undique ferebatur. Hinc factum est ut complurium antistitum cultorumque martyris postulationibus permotus Gregorius decimus sextus pontifex maximus, universa rei ratione mature perpensa, festum ejusdem cum Officio et Missa in memorata Nolana dioecesi et alibi agendum benigne permiserit.

C.M Episcop. Praenest. Card. PEDICINIUS;

S. R. E. Vice- C. S.R.C. Praef.;

V. PESCETELLI S. Fidei Promotor.

In summary, Pope Gregory XVI in a papal decree, granted official approbation of the liturgical cultus and, thereby, official ecclesiastical recognition of the sanctity of St. Philomena, virgin and martyr. The Pontiff, fully aware of the absence of any historical account of the martyr Saint "Filumena," granted to her the privileges of public liturgical veneration based upon the foundation of the great quantity of miracles ecclesiastically documented and recognized as having occurred through her direct intercession.

The official positive decree of Pope Gregory XVI in papal recognition of Saint Philomena’s status as deserving of liturgical cult reinforces the deeper truth that far more important than the historical account of Philomena’s earthly life is the historical and documented account of her powerful intercession for the Church as sanctioned by God himself. Whoever this early Christian martyr is and whatever constitutes the particular circumstances of her life and death, God is pleased with prayers of petition offered in the name of "St. Philomena," to which He has responded generously to the Christian faithful in granting an abundance of heavenly favors.

The historical abundance of miracles attests to God’s desire to encourage devotion to the person behind the name of Filumena, regardless of the absence of a recorded history of her earthly life. This primacy of importance of her actual intercession for the people of God in our own times, over the details of her earthly life in ancient times, is what the Pope and the Church confirmed in the raising of St. Philomena to the level of public liturgical veneration, the beginning of the process of her public recognition as Saint and martyr.

Magisterial Decrees Pertaining To Devotion to St. Philomena

From the liturgical approval of Pope Gregory XVI to the papal decrees of St. Pius X, Nineteen acts of the Holy See in the course of five successive pontificates were issued in positive promotion of popular devotion to Saint Philomena expressed in the form of elevations in rank of liturgical cultus, the erection of confraternities and archconfraternities, and the granting of plenary and partial indulgences.

Several acts of the Holy See particularly display the Magisterium’s approval and encouragement of ecclesial devotion to this Christian Saint and martyr. Beyond the elevation of the rank of the mass and office previously granted by Pope Gregory XVI, Bl. Pius IX approved a proper mass and office dedicated to St. Philomena with the papal confirmation of the previously submitted decree, Etsi decimo on January 31, 1855, a significant liturgical elevation, even though her name was never entered into the Roman Martyrology. The granting of a proper mass and office to Saint Philomena, which took place following the return of Bl. Pius IX from a papal pilgrimage to Mugnano during his forced exile from Rome, was an unprecedented act in honor of a Christian martyr known only by name and evidence of martyrdom. Bl. Pius IX also granted plenary and partial indulgences to devotions in honor of St. Philomena at the Sanctuary in Mugnano.

Pope Leo XIII granted papal approbation to the Cord of Saint Philomena with several plenary indulgences in association with its wearing, and accorded the title and privilege of "archconfraternity" for the respective Philomenian devotion and work in France. Pope St. Pius X continued the papal succession of encouragement for public Church devotion by approving the extension of the Archconfraternity of St. Philomena to the universal Church.

Far more than one solitary papal act by Pope Gregory XVI, the papal Magisterium has repeatedly encouraged the nature and growth of ecclesial devotion to Saint Philomena, in official recognition of her status as a Saint, in public liturgical and devotional sanctions which extended to the universal faith and life of the Church, and thereby manifesting official and essential liturgical and devotional characteristics of her status as a Saint as defined by the Church.

Hagiographical Testimony

St. John Vianney, beyond any other Saint or Blessed, manifested an expansive testimony of faith and documented witness toward the reality of St. Philomena and her profound intercessory efficacy. The CurÉ, as recorded in the canonization process, attributed all the miracles documented at Ars to have been affected through Saint Philomena’s intercession; repeatedly spoke of having received apparitions of St. Philomena; and directly attributed his own personal miraculous cure from grave illness to her intercession.

The testimony and cure of Ven. Pauline Jaricot through the intercession of the young martyr Saint has been noted. St. Peter Julian Eymard was cured from serious illness after having been instructed by St. John Vianney to pray a novena to Saint Philomena. St. Peter Channel, the first Oceanian martyr, preached of St. Philomena and referred to her as his "auxiliary" in his missionary apostolate.

Blessed Damien de VeusterBlessed Damien de VeusterSaint Joseph Damien de Veuster of Molokai Link Out dedicated his first chapel in Molokai to the young Saint. St. Madeleine Sophie Barat consistently invoked Saint Philomena during difficulties in the establishment of her societies, and attributed the miraculous cure of a dying novice to her intercession.

Bl. Anna Maria Taigi, as related in her beatification proceedings, applied oil burned before the tomb of St. Philomena to the eye of her grandchild who had been medically diagnosed with an incurable pupil tear of the eye, and the eye was immediately healed. Other Saints and Blesseds who manifested veneration to Saint Philomena include St. Magdalene of Canossa, Bl. Bartolo Longo, Bl. Annibale Da Messina, and Bl. Pius IX, who, shortly before his death, sent to Mugnano the chalice presented to him by the Belgian Federation of Catholic Circles on his golden Episcopal anniversary as one of several papal votive gifts sent in honor of and gratitude to St. Philomena.

The wisdom inherent in sanctity as personified in the lives of the aforementioned Saints and Blesseds provides a substantial confirmation of the decrees of the ordinary Magisterium which granted public ecclesiastical devotion to the martyr Saint. Worthy of particular mention is the significant number of Saints and Blesseds who immediately participated in veneration of Saint Philomena within the same half century of the discovery of her sacred remains, some before any certain statement concerning her public veneration was issued by Rome.

Note also the predominant importance of the supernatural intervention of miracles in the Church process of canonization. Without the documented miracles, an individual cause does not typically advance past the status of "Servant of God," even with extensive historical evidence of an earthly life of heroic virtue. The Church places its greatest emphasis for canonization, along with an essential historical basis, upon God’s witness to the sanctity of the candidate through the manifestation of miraculous intercession by the person. It was therefore most appropriate for Pope Gregory XVI to give far greater importance to the miracles documented to the intercession of St. Philomena, rather than to the history of her earthly existence beyond the Church approved criteria of historically establishing her martyrdom. The present inquiry into the case of Saint Philomena should follow the same criteria as those followed by Popes Gregory XVI, Bl. Pius IX, Leo XIII and St. Pius X.The Story of St. Philomena.

2 notes · View notes