Friday, April 13, 2012

Of Ill Charm: Friday the 13th





 
Yeah, that'd be just my luck. . .

This year, 2012 (just in case you've been living under a rock) has already gathered it's own doomsday buzz what with all the cultural prophesies , tired calender makers, and what have you. . . I have to admit, that for the most part, I find this Armageddon business just a little over dramatic. However there is one particular detail about this year that can't be ignored, and it has to do with Friday the 13th. (Doomsday naysayer or not, I have to say that my faith in the validity of this day to completely frig everything up is without a doubt, high).

 If you haven't realized it yet, by the time 2012 reaches an end, Friday the 13th will have occurred 3 times this year. First on Jan. 13, then April 13 (today), and finally on July 13. That's the most Friday the 13ths you can have in a year! But  you wanna know the weirdest bit? These three dates are exactly 13 weeks apart.

 Feeling skittish?

Well, naturally, I couldn't resist. I mean, it's bananas, right? So in honor of National Poetry Month, and in reverence of this trifecta of unluckiness, I have selected a poem by Ric S. Bastasa that will hopefully quell your appetite for all the sensationalism, while at the same time, comforting whatever fears you have that you - instead of that bitchy co-worker, roommate or neighbor - will become a Camp Crystal Lake-esque victim... So just batten down the hatches, and maybe locate  the family Bible and a  weapon of some sort - I recommend a frying pan or screwdriver (if you have small hands or something), and curl up with this little treat!
Friday the 13th
RIC S. BASTASA
such is the holy
hour

music so sacred
gushes on the windows
and the doors

they are all open
throughout the day

and till tonight
to welcome the moon and
the stars

sleep so well
as i think of you

the greatness of God
his Magnificence

the black blanket of the
night
shall comfort you

it will be warm
it will be so lovely

all your fears gone
in the darkest hour

our hidden eyes can still
see so well


National Poetry Month #13
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