‘Amor Victorious’, ‘The Coronation of the Virgin’ and ‘The Impression of the Sunrise’
Jack Bordnick’s sculptural and photographic imagery is a reflection of my past and present forces and the imagination of his life’s stories. They represent an evolutionary process of these ideas and how that all of life’s forces are interconnected, embraced and expressed thru creative art forms. These works, represent he has accomplished with this art form. It is his quantum and metaphoric moment, the changing from one form to another.
Amor Victorious
Omnia Vincit Amor et nos cedamus amori - Virgil
Upon earthly grounds of nothing, as dark and blackness reigns with Dian’ as its makers eye, there sits a mount of assortments: Apollo’s lyres and Pachelbel’s violin, Also Sprach Zarathustra in full canon, a horseless carriage with a raw-stained image of Carl Benz cadaver on the wheel, an unhabited 1918 Curtiss JN-4D, stacks of Roman notes, Franklins and Jacksons littered around in green and unreserved remnants, vaccines loaded of hyaluronic acid; overdone signs, though faded, have etchings that read ‘No Ju i e, o ea e’, a forty-five of Heart Attack at 23, a Italian Carcano, assorted pink triangles, a fishy diaphragm, the two-farmed shield of Achilles, Medusa’s serpentine head, a New England Patriots jersey, Warhol’s Campbell's Soup, and a skull. Thus appears the pile; its amount can height up to Olympus heighted rock. By Solomon, ‘tis all vanity.
Enter Amor: a boy blindèd by his own love, sent away of the Cytherean, his mother, committing affairs with War and having other earthly delights; naked with a eternal phallus, with but his quiver and staffs of Love to cover him, and clean as the alabasters that portrait him, he flies up to the top of this mount, gives a laugh, stands tall on this entropic material, and speaks thus his verse on his exploitment and triumph:
AMOR: “For now, methinks, mine pow’r ranges o’er stagey rocks,
Through echoing caves, beyond this war and peace that mocks
Mine creation. ‘Tis joy to game loving arrows
For the Sun on his nymph aft’ Pythian shows
To relief him of manliness, or hit Ethiope’s
To prove more their lust in the frost-forsaken slopes
Off Kilmanjaro’s grounds; for even mine hap
Comes when Jove aways Juno and sits in Danae’s lap
When I enchanted the golden shower! I laugh
When fleshy sprites conceit they heart not mine soul’s wrath,
Or bethink themselves they’re ‘yond humanal affection
As if the Olympians haven’t this sacred passion
And they’re cured by my so-called madness,
Or use suspicious substance to abstain mine bliss.
Delight me more, ye ignorants! Drink deep from thy springs,
Amuse me with thy art and science! In vain thee sings,
If ye hast not Love, thou hast nothing. For no state
Can change the pangs of Love, as I shoot my shots with fate
And unconsciousness at all this Pierian
Offspring!”
Amor stands blind on top of this epicurean carcass, permitting his ganymedean and laughter-loving soul its whole reign as only nightness and the dark surround his canvas.
The versers of earth have lyred him his measures divine, with some philosophers claiming him the greatest of all gods. For Love shapes our humors, defines our coming, makes us revolute dishonest temples for our sister, sacrifice ourselves for our lovers, brings the Adams to the Eves and Eves to the Adams; for he even cause us illness if were without him, causes us madness if we’ve too much of his staffs, cause us to cheat if he isn’t within the Hymen, can causes us to find violent and Jove-like raptures in lost Io if we’re drunk upon his shootings, makes us hate another to show another affection, or inspire us to hate a one for the overmuch we love them. Love shows us our light, and is one to reflect our dark matter. Love’s pow’rful, yet terrible and virilious for ends; Love’s over all things, and ‘ll conquer all who submit not to him and forget his doings. So, by Love, for the measures he measures on all judgment, may we yield to Love for Love’s sake.
The Coronation of the Virgin
I
And there appeared mellifluous wonderment in heaven, as the ancient mode of the sun speaks out majestic notes with the surrounding Seraphim, Cherubim, and the one hundred and forty four thousand, a thousand and twelve each from the tribes of Judah, the tribes of Reuben, the tribes of Gad, the tribes of Asher, the tribes of Naphtali, the tribes of Manasseh, the tribes of Simeon, the tribes of Levi, the tribes of Issachar, the tribes of Zebulun, the tribes of Joseph, and the tribes of Benjamin, all sealed with the Father written on their heads, hymn and lyre out in tear-inspiring song. The measures are new ere the Throne of Heaven, the seats of authority committed, ere the hayyots, ere the elders, enduring the ever-lasting home of the blameless.
All pre-determined roads end here, as the peals of thunderous war are evaporated into spirit, as the earth-made tellus conceives its last day, as the pity of each Lazarus awaken in awe. The sights of the Angels are as pow’r itself, glorious in forms, in shape of divine alabasters, enjoying the presence they find themselves in at the given moment, waiting for The Father and Son to give this world’s stage further direction.
Appears The Father, who’s art in heaven has sights too heavenly for the manly eye, and thus speaks on the coming trial.
THE FATHER: I am who I am: I am the beginning,
I am the ending, which is, which was, and
Which is to come. I am Alpha; I am
Omega, the beginning and end.
I have made kings, I have made priest, though many
Have turned against mine purpose. I have untrusted
Mine creation since those first parents
Of earth seduced themselves to the devil,
The jester to the world’s discontent.
Methought no hope was ready of the earth,
But I’ve sacrificed mine only begotten son
To his perfection, to play as flesh for man,
So mine vessels of the world may have
Another chance of ever-lasting life.
I have since sent him, and now he returns
To his heavenly home. To all those who
Received him: grace unto thee, and peace to
Him who is, who was, and who is to come
By the spirits. Henceforth, all generations
Will call him blessed, as they will have done
Great and mighty things before me.
Behold! my Son who cometh with clouds!
All eyes that have pierced and praised him shall eye
Him; and all kindreds of flesh shall wail
Because of his majesty.
Thus ascends the The Son, again who’s art in heaven has sights too heavenly for the manly eye, closer to The Father in heaven, and thus speaks on the coming trial, and bows to him in humble submission.
THE SON: Thy inconceivable work fears nations
Before Thee, and the ignorant suffer
For Thy improbable feats of wond’rous deeds
You trial the earth with these last days.
You conceived me by the Holy Spirit,
You birthèd me of that Virgin Mary,
You gave me message of the nations
To preach the good news of lowly vessels
To suffer another life beyond the sea;
You suffered me under Pontius Pilate,
The governor with Judaea circles
On Tiberius’ gloomious reign,
With the Roman’s crucifixion
Along the skull of violent Calvary;
I descended to Hell, the vile Hades,
And methought I saw the eye of Lucifer
For my good works. It was here, by the by,
You rose me from this deadly existence
And ascend me back to Heaven with
Thy Almighty Right Hand by my side,
From where here we will judge the living and dead
With our revelations. My Lord, My Father,
Your messengers shall praise Thee for Thy
Everlasting day for this admirement!
THE FATHER: Rise my son, and stand you here beside
Of me, so we may begin our judgment
For the Heavenly Coronation.
THE SON: Who shall sit for the honor in a world
Willed of Satan?
THE FATHER: The troubulous earth hast been marked of times
Terrible for Adam’s offspring, as the
Narcissus fell in love with Narcissus,
Each greedo was more bounty for his next pay,
Braggadocious became man’s middle name,
Caesars filled his heart with Caesar, Damons
Abused the next Pythias who gave him smile,
Cains and Abels would conspire their parents;
Each Timon became walking arguments
Screaming at the divine, forgave no partners,
Slain without mercy, took any hymen
That had a cherry, worshiped any Baal,
And became acquainted with Epicurus
Pursuits of love, rather than pursuing me.
For these reasons, and for our justice,
I have nothing such to do with these men.
The women of the world are no better, as
Daughters of Eve became daughters of
Jezebel and called themselves prophets,
Misleading mine servants to sexual sin,
Letting them eat victual sacrificed
To vicversèd idols. I give these women
The hour of repentance, but by doggish
Screams and belated stubbornness, they’re
Unwilling to give themselves up, or get
Drunk willingly on Fornication’s wine.
Disobedient, independent, conceited,
Unprotected, too clever by halves:
Same as the man, but worse as they beget
Our saints and sinners.
Alas! The Babylon of earth has fallen!
Mine options for coronation are few;
For everyone would to be in Heaven,
But few discipline their errors to get here.
I choose wisely The Immaculate Virgin,
Well preserved from the vicements of Nature,
The heart of original sin. For she
Will be exalted by me, taken up
To heavenly glory and become
Queen over all things for her divine feats;
For she will be conformed to her Son,
My Son, the Lord of lords, the conqueror
Of sin and death, and be held eternal.
THE SON: Hark! Thy trumpet hast been sounded.
II: AD CAELI REGINAM
The primal and judgment day of Our Lord in Heaven is set forth before us coming as our first parents. After these speeches of spirit, a greatness and glorious mystery appears in heaven: a woman, with submissive eyes lowered, heart-shaped mouth, a most modest, delicate, and emotive expression of visage, a bosom of health, clothed in the sun and diaphanous vetement of the purest ivory. The surrounding Seraphim, Cherubim, and the one hundred and forty four thousand, the entire court of Heaven, all sealed with the Father written on their heads, greet with joy of this masterpiece in our Lord’s creation. Preserved of the stain of original sin, as her course of worldly life aquits, the Immaculate Virgin is taken up flesh and spirit into heavenly glory. She ascends to The Lord’s heavenly throne, with head still bowed beneath Him, as slavish Cherub take her up with the crest of Dian’ under her feet. She is wise without her words: she points to her heart, and bows in great reverence.
By her time on earth, she lived many a year after the death of Christ, and becomes a source of comfort, consolation, and strength to the remaining apostles. Upon her death, she was overcome in rapture in the spirit of God’s love, and by her burial, as the apostles have it, found the tomb arrayed in the display of variant nosegays and an impression of fragrant lilies, with the untouched flesh of the Immaculate Virgin, upon Christ's arrival in heaven, without decayment.
And there appeared the pentecostal descent of the Holy Spirit: his entering sound came as the rushing breath of stormy and feverious airs, and filled the spaces the Father, the Son, and the Virgin were all spaced in. As a tongue of fire, the Holy Spirit speaks:
THE HOLY SPIRIT: Glory be to the Father, and to the Son! Here is the beginning, now, and ever shall be, a world without end. Hail be to the Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, Life, Sweetness, and Hope! who nourished the infant Christ, and remembered in deeds in giving oils and wiping the Lord’s feet with Thy hair. The lowly vessels weep, the poor banished children of Eve, but they forget their course with nature. They send up their sighs, mourning and sorrow in vales of tears, and it will be upon these last days of judgment to Thine eyes of mercy they will plead to you for their cause; and after their exile, show you will unto all, as a most powerful Queen and a most merciful and loving Mother. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary!
SERAPHIM: O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary!
CHERUB: O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary!
THE CHORUS OF HEAVEN: O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary!
All of the thrones and other angels of heaven, by nature greater than man, hail Mary as their Queen and rejoice in the joy they give their hearts. But lo! A great sign appears in heaven! The Immaculate Virgin is now clothed in the sun, with the crest of Dian’ still under her feet, and what proceeds forth, by the divinity of the Holy Spirit and the making of the one hundred and forty-four thousand, is a crown of twelve stars, given to The Son and The Father to crown on the divine temple of Mary. Thus the coronation begins; only heaven will know the great majesty of this coronation, and the joy it gave to the chorus of the divine. More than can we ever know the overflow of joy between The Son and The Virgin hearts at this beautiful reunion. For the Immaculate Virgin shares fully as the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords in His glory as she shared so fully in His suffering.
SERAPHIM: Praise be to Thee, Queen of Heaven!
CHERUB: Praise be to Thee, who gave birth to the one who was Christ!
THE CHORUS OF HEAVEN: Praise be to Thee, whose child was God!
Thus was laid the Queenship of Mary in Heaven. And it is here, the entire heavens rejoice in the coronation of the Virgin. For only in the heavens will they know the true happiness between these spirits, and only in Heaven will the Immaculate Virgin, the Queen of Heaven, know her central role in the world’s divine plan for redemption, with us as man to pray to our loving Mother to plead man’s cause.
The Impression of the Sunrise
As the orange-armed sun bows and takes its first grace upon Tellus-bound mainlands, ascending out of Hades in its greatest impression, Zeus coagulates his blood-ridden clouds into tiny specimen of traitors: all separate of each other into puffed sheets, all ripples of the wind, all celestials of the heavens. Our Sun’s strugglement has efforts to gather his horses and chariot away from Hell’s dark pit, but with the help of Apollo no one can stand in their path to the skies of greatness.
Upon a blue and river-run mississippi, where feverish boats sail as a Columbus to a people of God or exchange in trades for the comfort, enter Claude, the Ahab of these seas, sailing his lesser pequod among the valiant Oceanus washes; his mind’s beyond vanities and at peace with meditations, as the present is his only focus without any futures needed for him to contemplate. He observes the sunrise, beckons rapture within his bosom, and thus begins to sing its praises:
Claude: Lo! a poet’s sight! Praise be to the sun!
Praise be to nature! To the sunrise!
A verser’s measure has not enough length
To conceit the image of such a face!
Our Almighty above, the best o’ painters,
Uses speedy strokes on Nature’s canvas
To construct another Eden on earth,
As light, as quick, as beautiful as beauty
Would permit. Are we worthy of this summer?
The glorious sun and everlasting arms?
Like Horus eye, it judges upon all
Healing each succumbing flesh of loose night,
Giving drink to the health of each wave;
Why so nice? Why deserve we such beauty?
Stained we are by our original folk
Who first walked the earth, who refumigate
The spheres with man-made and pompous airs,
Sharking up possessions beyond any sea
And releasing it for waste to kill fish.
What are we to deserve God’s masterpiece?
Are we more than life than what we perceive?
O! the windows of my soul! Halt thy brows
Of Niobe-like fountains for beauty!
O Beauty! Too much! Too much! Too much!
This eye of all beckons its fine iris
To reach us pupils of all!
Praise be to the sunrise!
And upon this song, along the Nature of all, Claude furthers his sails down the plant-powered river with an impression of the sunrise he will never let come away of his mind’s remembrance, with measures to be praised and endured as the earth is welcomed to the all of man.
Kollin Kennedy is a writer in the Dallas area who has graduated from the University of North Texas with his Bachelor’s in Creative English Writing. He has self-published a few collections of poetry, including his recent 'A Blue Period, which has made it to #1 in Poetry, Poetry on Nature, & Poetry on Love on Amazon in January of 2024, and has recently finished his comedic novella 'Something's Got to Give' that he plans to release very soon. He has also published his poems in other issues such as Wingless Dreamer and The Decadent Review.
