the good friday revolt

i received mixed reactions for the poem i composed for my crush last maundry thursday. some were sympathetic of the feeling wherein a fallible human is inextricably situated between morality and the call of the flesh, some were patronizing the relative ease at which i treated a difficult subject and some more were aghast at how i took it to the sacrilegious limit and perverted biblical allusions outright. nonetheless, the most important reaction came from the very person who inspired the poem to begin with. my very good friday started with two sms from gorgeous, and as i read both, it was not far-fetched that he made a second transmission of the similar content for him to drive home his message that god was crucified out of his love for me. when he ended his lenten text with "god loves you!", i immediately got reminded of a conversation with a gay friend with gorgeous as the usual subject. i remember having said, "well, he's so impeccable that he is more like a god to me." so god loves me, after all, even as i’m ready to be crucified by the world in his sake. ooops, if i so much as blaspheme a third time, i’d be rained upon not with stones but with computer mouses (yeah, that’s the plural form)—with cpu’s and monitors attached.
at any rate, here's the complete text of the poem entitled “apocrypha”:
the man is my brother--
it's he i want.
you command, father,
never for me to covet
someone not my partner
lest you unleash your wrath
in torrents of brimstone and fire.
even now, i already envision
my soul roasting in fiery dominion
for this desire that has caused
the destruction of my kind
trickles down my very spine.
my brother, he is an
incarnated apple,
and to a greater hell
i lead myself
when i resist worshipping
his unwithered temple.
forgive me, father,
but i want to sin.
if somehow the blasphemous poem caused any repulsion on the part of anyone including that of my crush (just a question: what part? hehehe), let me lament on what revolted me this time of the year as well as that of last year.
i spent lent 2005 in paradisal villa escudero in coconut-rich san pablo city. everything was fine until maundry thursday when i frolicked alone at the jacuzzi. i initially had a great moment mimicking beauty contestants in their swimsuit competition. after some time, i saw a celebrity lesbian couple and another lesbian pair heading my bathing place, and i sensed this was the signal that the world was about to self-destruct to give way to the eternal fires of hell. they dipped their curvaceous bodies, but i remained oblivious, even when they proudly displayed their mutual homosexual affection. i had to, for i felt that it was my duty to contribute to the redemption of the world, and if this entailed having to make a sacrifice out of my pathetic self, so be it. and it came to pass that as the night wore on, i grew feverish and failed to join my collegues in playing ungguy-ungguyan. they spared me the untimely jokes that the simian that i am need not play cards with them, for i have become so delirious that i took donna for a diabolic stranger when she entered my room. i was still sick when we returned to manila the following day, and i believed that was because the world must be salvaged after my jacuzzi encounter with the lesbians. i recovered before black saturday because i had a cute visitor in the form of perfect boyfriend material/would-be ad model marc the night of very good friday.
this year, after getting ugly foot blisters by ceaselessly running away—on ill-fitting havana slippers—from a cult staging the way of the cross somewhere in manila, my best friend tuxedo mask discreetly asked me to receive in my activated phone obscene multimedia images from a girl chatmate of his. about the same time, the three lesbian boarders in his apartment urged me to join them in malate for a nocturnal chillout party (did i imagine it exclusive?). ooops, scylla and charybdis; it was a tough decision to choose between the dilemma that’s the devil and the deep blue sea. in the end, i reluctantly conceded to my best friend’s request, turning down the lesbians’ offer to call on a simultaneous explosion of all the world’s volcanoes. when the gender-benders left, numerous lewd mms with an image of a navel down in various states of undress flooded my phone. since tuxedo mask could not operate my phone properly, i had the honor, i mean horror, of sending to his phone the half-body pornographic pictures via bluetooth, inescapably glimpsing the last thing on earth i'd want to look at.
with all the perversions made by and against me, i hope not to run a scalding temperature later.