#crucifix
The crucifix
Was on the wall
Of the chapel;
It was a large
Crucifix that
Occupied most
Of the wall space.
Martha loved it
And visited
It as often
As she could in
The school hours,
Even though this
Was not allowed.
And one morning
During break time
She sneaked in there
And stood in front
Of whom she called
The crucified
And talked to Him
In soft whispers.
And old nun passed
And noticed that
The door was now
Open and went
In and spotted
Martha standing
Muttering to
The crucifix.
No pupils are
Permitted here
In school hours,
The old nun said.
Marha muttered
On quietly
As if the nun
Had not spoken.
I said no child
Is allowed here
In school hours,
The old nun said.
Martha then stopped
And turned around:
You know it’s rude
To interrupt
People talking,
Let alone one
Praying to Christ,
Martha uttered.
It’s the school rules,
The nun replied.
Martha turned back
To the large Christ
And said loudly:
The Crucified
Wanted me here.
But the old nun
Just repeated
Her prior words,
Giving Martha
A critical
Stare and stood there.
Martha then crossed
herself slowly,
And walked away
Giving the nun
A cold hard gaze,
And walked onwards
As the bell rang
For next lessons.
And she muttered
in a soft prayer:
Sorry I left,
But the old bat
Wouldn’t let me
stay behind there.
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 3:40 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
An Empty Cross
An empty cross?
There is no empty cross
Fragments of bone and flesh forever stain
The spikes, the wood, the cross, the ****** cross
Is not a cute designer collectable
An empty cross?
There is no empty cross
His crucifixion takes away our sins
But the bloodstains remind us
It was our sins that drove the spikes into Him
An empty cross?
There is no empty cross
There won’t be, not until the last day of all
Nov 21, 2021
Nov 21, 2021 at 8:11 AM UTC
No.
Not ornamental,
more fundamental.
Not sentimental,
but rudimental.
And when I wear it
it's very much an intentional
statement of who I am,
how I live
and who I worship.
So, no,
not simply pretty,
but pretty much essential.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 4:22 AM UTC
“Errant knight, and samurai, man of god left to die, by sword and sorcery we fix his body to this crucifix. By storm of blade and blade of bone. He will stand a man regrow. When the hour draws late, he will shatter swords of fate and bring dark heavens crashing down. In his wake I pray the lord your souls he takes. To burn your evil with the might of excalibur so bright. The crucifix will rise again and usher in evils end.”
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 12:44 AM UTC
every moment I sit
on the edge
twiddling my thumbs
right next to insanity
tender lies, spoken
in whisper,
root themselves within
and spread moments of weakness
all dolled up as
strength.
I know the thrill
of falling
deeply
into the heart of
abandon,
headfirst, the warm
and gentle darkness
keeping my eyes in place,
fixed upon it:
my broken and perverted
crucifix
many hands stretched out to wound him,
reaching for the God of Souls.
so mine reach out to claim her,
clamoring
for the sweet ungodly savor of my
goddess
and the beggarly delighting
of her tender gaze on me.
perverse pageantry,
the ritual of very God above
imitated in the wasting
of this virgin's
soul.
stretched out for all to see,
just like he.
pierced through and bleeding
from head, heart, hands, and feet -
so she is pierced
for me.
not to save, but to delight.
uplifting?
bringing low
+
blasphemy, you say?
indeed.
of the deepest and the darkest
dye,
conceived in hell, the devil's spawn of this idea
swam upward to life through
layers of molten lies.
they burn, unceasing.
If you could tear one part of you and cast it far away, what ***** would you...
...fool! think not
escape to find without a light
trust not
the fickle heart to leave any part of you to lie severed
in the cold for long.
you'd search for it, and find in reunion cause
for celebration of the
darkest kind.
lay flat instead
upon the sun-pocked surface of this lightless planet
that you call a soul.
lay bare your helplessness
to the falling stars
and take the fatal blow that falls down
from on high.
no life without death,
no freedom without a brand
new set of chains.
do you actually believe it possible to change,
without such bitter pangs?
undo your only hold on life
and in the process gain
a claim to thrones eternal
and the everlasting
flame.
+
shadows of the devil's crucifix are haunting me.
desire, love, and beauty lick their lips
and wait for me.
but shifting like the broken
veil within, the pageantry I see
unfolds,
mist falls away; reality breaks free.
the shattered, broken
body of a god,
hangs limply on a tree.
lightning flashes, and a flood of unrefracted clarity
destroys the feathered patchwork
of my soul.
held aloft before him,
I scream.
forced to watch the devil's prodding,
dancing in their glee
I can never, never be free.
compelled by love more fierce than fire,
inflamed with all the agony of
purifying blood,
I lay a hand upon him,
and I weep like God above.
all this for me;
all this,
for heaven's enemy.
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 8:43 PM UTC
Falling backwards- Never mind where from,
it could have happened anywhere
you stood.
The dark water below is so vast that
the only word that can describe it's volume
is open.
Landing on its surface, like a crucifix
you sink forever downward, but
otherwise still.
There is no end to its depth,
but increasingly crushing the farther
you drown.
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 6:16 PM UTC
Martha takes the crucifix
(light wooden cross
and well crafted plaster Christ)
to bed with her
snuggles the Crucified
beneath blankets and sheet
looks at Him
strokes His nailed feet
kisses His nailed hands curled
and wonders if He will open
His eyes and stare at her
maybe search her out
and maybe say
keeping me warm counts
as a blessing
but He doesn't
His eyes half closed look down
His lips say nothing
the hands are warming
no longer cold from being left
in the box in the junk shop
as she snuggles down there
she whispers
have you heard that rumour
Mary Moran's been saying?
About Sister Lucy and Father Joseph?
Is it true?
She asks bringing the Crucified's head
close her lips
I mean You would know
if anyone does and well it is
doing the rounds in the girl's toilets
at the moment although
Da says not to listen to gossip
especially about nuns and priests
he says
but is it true?
She asks the Crucified
eyeing His eyes half closed
or open depending
how you look
He says nothing
just silence
except for her stomach rumbling
(she has given up supper for penance)
and by the way that boy
Jimmy O'Brien looks at me
kind of weird
the idjit
as if he'd something
on his mind
I’m not like Mary
with the boys
and touching and such
she kisses the crown
of thorns head
the plaster dark hair
the red lipsticked
Crucified clutched close
to her small breast
eyes half open or closed
at rest.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC