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Poetic T Sep 2020
You were  my cross,
    stigmatised for loving


  But I'm crucified
for loving him.
Cingyeng Vang Sep 2018
The pomegranate was broken in half by His hands
It bled
And the seeds of the pomegranate was handed out by Him
So all that He chose to give, had a piece of the pomegranate.

Isaiah 53:4‭-‬5
He The Father, The pomegranate The Son, The seed The Holy Spirit, they all work as one.
Nelize Jul 2016
a silent deep breath
gazing up at the sky
He now sees death
hammers fly up high

lay Him down on lacerated spine
little do they know, they mock the Divine
soon this sky will show darkness
prove He's King, none will deny

nails hit wood
through miracle hands
a violent wail is His reply

spit glides down His heavenly cheek
sour wine runs down burst lips
'forsaken I am' 'tis now His brood
in His side spears now pry

a single tear drop lands on His face
not from His eye
but from the Father's sky

a single rabbi brings sin to defeat
as death comes by

His absence will be fleet
for us: not yet goodbye
Terry Collett May 2016
Dominus misereatur
the nun said to Martha

what's that mean?
Martha said

Lord have mercy
the nun said

so why don't we say that
instead of talking to God
in a dead language?
Martha said

it is the language
of the Church
the nun said
and pointed out
other lines of Latin
to the rest of the class

Martha gazed at the black board
then lifted her eyes
to the huge crucifix
on the wall by the dark
wood boxed clock

there was dust and cobwebs
hanging from the arms
of the Crucified
and particles on
the crown of thorns
about His head

the plaster was aged
and here and there
it was worn through
to unpainted darkness

there was no hair
under His arms
as there was
under her da's arms
when he raised them
in his vest to brush
his receding hair
she mused

the nails had been
hammered into
hands and feet
causing the hands
to curl inwards like *****

exaudi orationem meam
the nun said

a girl raised her hand
what's it mean Sister Paul?

hear my prayer
the nun said

Martha wondered if
the Crucified had
been a Greek
whether he would have
worn a cloth
about his mid-drift
or been stark naked
like some Greek statues were
she'd seen in books

His eyes were half open
looking upwards

His beard had a long
string of cobweb
hanging down

needs cleaning
Martha mused
needs a good wash
she muttered
looking at the clock
tick-tocking beside Him
at half-past ten

and she muttered
a soft Amen.
Terry Collett Apr 2016
In the small school chapel
Martha stood in front
of the black wood crucifix
high on the wall

if she stood on tiptoe
she could just about
touch the plaster paris
nailed feet

the chapel was empty
no sound
smell of incense
and old bricks
and aged bodies
of old nuns who once
fumed here

Martha stood on tiptoe
and kissed the Crucified's
nailed feet with her lips
soft lips on paster feet

Jesus I want
to be your bride
want to hold
you close
want to
have you near
let your ears hear
she whispered

she went back
on her feet
watched the Crucified

His arms outstretched
His nailed hands
like claws
His eyes looking skywards
not particularly hairy
like her father was
not under the arms
or chest
she mused

what are you doing here
Martha Maguire?
A nun said
creeping up
behind her
having slid in
like a shadow
from the cloister

Martha turned around
talking to the Crucified
Martha said
eyeing the tubby nun

why are you not
in class?
The nun said

Martha turned back
to gaze at the Crucified
wanted to talk to Him
she said

not during class-time
the nun said
now get
on to your class
and don't be here
during school time
understand me?

Martha gazed
at the Crucified's eyes
heavenward gazing
His hands nailed cruelly

if I could
Martha said
I'd unnail Him
take Him
in my arms
and hug Him
to being better

the nun frowned
gazed at the back
and backside
of the Maguire girl

will you get yourself
off to class Maguire
I won't tell you again
or you'll being having
a ruler across
your palms once more

Martha sighed
she thought she saw
the Crucified eye her
but couldn't be sure.
Sy Lilang Dec 2014
Baptism isn’t a ritual;
Not a sign of one’s convert of religion.
Religion only makes faction;
It’s all about relationship with God.

We don’t try Jesus
As others try tons of religions
As if changing their clothes.

For no religion will ever fit us;
Allow Jesus and be changed!
We accept Jesus and that’s why to be baptized
Means to be crucified with him
His death, burial and resurrection!
Back-stabber count your silver coins,
all thirty pieces do enjoy.
For thou have torn it from the ****
of he whom thou deem to destroy.

Conveyed before said holy male
who fears to take decision home.
Responsibility he doth bale,
forth-giving this to man of Rome.

Upon to Pilate do I see.
Should I relinquish my belief?
Will mine own peoples see me free
instead of murderer or thief?

In my defence nought do I speak
to only God do I ask praise.
Forgive me not for thou art week
and power to thee is but a phase.

Upon mine head a crown of thorns
secured firmly into place
as harassed by unfriendly scorn.
Holy blood, bathes holy face.

Barbs of metal scourge my all,
unlawful hurt do I withstand.
Burdened with weight I make a fall.
Samaritan doth lend a hand.

Rods of steel fix flesh and bone
to that of mans' wooden *****.
In painful agony, though not alone,
with Holy Father I connect.

Hoisted aloft on knoll of high.
Visible means to fear their weight.
Drawn upright, that I may die.
Design to clear of human slate.

Soon this pain will free of me.
My passing so that they may live.
Exalted father thou can see
this son gives all a son can give.
First printed in the 2011 Anthology. Suspended in Ink.

— The End —