"cyrene" poems
All lines are controversial
Average performance is extremely intelligent,
My answer to the riddle is this God never wrote fables
In the bible, Qur’an, Gita, Ramayana, Dini ya Musambwa
Nor anything you will mention that amount to mankind's
Mental peregrinations in search for God.
Jewish literature in the form of the bible
Is strongly successful as a misleading literature
And firmly founded in racial prejudice.
Similarly the Qur'an is Arabic adjustment
Of Jewish literature in the bible.
The Apocryphal of them all is enigmatic.
The sons of Asia are dangerously gifted in literature
And their epics often form religion, think of Tagore’s poem
That became Indian nation anthem,
Karl Marx's das kapitel that became revolutionary religion
Blue print or even Gautama's sermons recited by Jesus Christ
Six hundred years later as a sermon on the mountain.
Now; to me Asians must stop racial chauvinism
And accept humanity as there are very many human beings
Who are living away from Jerusalem and are prosperous
Both economically and spiritually, take a case of Vatican.
In my faith therefore, God himself
will give Jerusalem to African immigrants in Palestine and Israel,
Because Abraham was a refugee in Africa,
Ishmael was born in Africa; Jesus was a refugee in Africa
And even a Libyan; Simon the Cyrene helped him
To carry the ominous Roman cross, doen to Calvary
Thus, Christianity is founded on the innocent misery of an African race.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
*Can't be sad that I have no Easter poem, the bible says it all
that whence He died, He died for my Soul
He took beatings, insults and all sorts of pains
including crowning with thorns to free my chains
He carried a cross in shame whipped by scorn and hate
just so you and me could have tickets to Heaven,He changed our fate
He stood up each time the weight got Him succumbing to gravity
because He knew we ain't no Devil's property
He even descended into the hades,it was no fairy tale
and that way we all, to go to paradise won't have to go through Hell
He beat the Devil in many ways including the forty days
when the cunning lad tried to tempt Him with Earthly praise and raise
At the Gardens in Gethsemane whilst the disciples slept He bled
and didn't end there,on the third day He rose fresh from the dead
ask me not how I gained from Jesus' suffering death and resurrection
for it's beyond measure, it's as miraculous as the transfiguration
but my lesson besides the gain is that I can overcome pain
that no matter how steep the hills may seem there's always a plain
that even when all hope is gone there's a third day to rise
that the devil is out there in the desert, I should always shine my eyes
He taught me that those who crown us with thorns don't define who we are
We're kings and Authors of our stories, different from what they claim by far
Jesus taught us to forgive the Judas and the Peters
We shouldn't forsake them just because they looked on while the world beat us
that while on my cross,some are going to give me inspirational talk
sincerely while others are just going to satirise and mock
that there are still good people in this world who can help me with my load
Just like Simon of Cyrene lifted the cross that burdened my lord
I just have to let them in, a crowd of adversaries can't lack a friend
He reminded me that in this world I am but a visitor
you should always remember this even after Easter
so many lessons there are but mostly, that death is not the end*
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 3:38 AM UTC
Great God of Mine,
How is it that the planets faithfully revolve around Your solar star
How is that the acorn mystically re-fashions itself into the majestic tree
How is it that the monarch finds the flyways and air currents to its winter home
Great God of Mine,
Why is it that babies are being born to immature children who can’t rear them
Why is it that a father takes out his anger on his wife and offspring
Why is it that man is incapable of living peacefully with his neighbor
Great God of Mine,
How is it that Rahab was chosen to facilitate an enemy’s victory over her Jericho
How is that the Samaritan woman at the well claimed Jesus’s living water
How is it that Simon of Cyrene forcefully bore the cross to Golgotha behind Jesus
Great God of Mine,
Why is it that mothers can end the lives of their little ones
Why is it that drug-users and perverts are destroying safe homes
Why is it that political leaders make selfish decisions that harm their constituents
Great God of Mine,
How is it that you created man for relationship knowing his inability to sustain it
How is it that you eternally love mankind in the face of his constant rejection
How is it that you sacrificed your innocent Son to save a sinful people
Great God of Mine,
Why is it that the twelve apostles included a traitor
Why is it that the “rock of the church” denied your Son three times
Why is it that an apostle who walked with Jesus could doubt his authenticity
Great God of Mine,
How is it that You knew me before time began
How is it that You saved me with my not deserving it
How is it that You love me; You LOVE…ME!
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
"You, Come here!"
spoke the Roman, looking mean,
clearly, he meant me,
Simon of Cyrene.
I do not like to argue
with men who play at war.
He motioned I should take the cross
that the Rebel, Jesus, bore.
My strong shoulder lifted up
the heavy, rough Hewn cross.
No wonder he had fallen,
look at all the blood he's lost.
We walk together for a while
up the steep incline
I do not speak, but I wonder,
what is on the Rebel's mind.
they stretch him out upon the cross
and drive nails in his wrists
They raise him up and jam him down
They have practice doing this.
He's speaking to two women
and a man, perhaps a friend
maybe only they can hear him,
his voice weaker than the wind.
The people of Jerusalem
Taunt the Rebel as he dies
Three hours pass, he speaks his last
vain prayer up to the sky
the soldiers have to break the legs
of those two who hung with thee
and they jab a pilus in the side
of the man from Galilee.
The day by then was cold and raw
where the sun had shined before.
I made my way back down the hill,
with disgust for Roman law
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
You were so drunk that night
You fell again and again,
no one there to help you carry that cross.
No one helped me carry mine.
I want to be your Simon,
I want to ease your pain,
share your burden.
But I am too weak still.
My back is still broken
from carrying my cross up that hill.
You are nothing like Jesus.
But right now you both know each other's pain
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC
He walked along the garden path
cloaked in silent beauty
tho His soul screamed out in agony
as He struggled with His duty
Too soon would time arrest Him
and assault His mortal bones
stripping Him of dignity
to leave Him so alone
He stood before the judges
who questioned what He taught
jeered by crowds of skeptics
for the miracles He wrought
Soldiers cruelly flogged Him
with words and leaded lash
till His wounds were sorely bloodied
and His Spirit nearly dashed
With razored thorns they crowned Him
pressed roughly to His head
to mock his royal status
yet not a word He said
Upon His back they laid a cross
that no mere man could bear
weighted by a world of sin
no more could one man care
Every step toward Calvary
was afflicted with such pain
though each was taken willingly
to mankind’s greatest gain
Along the way was little solace
His mother’s tears, most anguished
a woman’s veil, the Cyrene’s hands
His pangs could not extinguish
At last He reached the journey’s end
but relief was not to be
His hands and feet they did impale
to hang Him from that tree
His death laid shadow ‘cross the sky
the ground beneath was shaken
at last they knew God’s only Son
was the one whose life was taken
They thought that death had conquered Him
And His flesh would turn to dust
That His memory would fade away
while His flock would lose their trust
But the Son fulfilled God’s promise
His temple twice erected
Against all human logic
His life was resurrected
On that Blessed Sunday
men born in any age
could now accept salvation
and be freed from sin’s outrage
For all, and for eternity
He duly paid the cost
which guilt and sin does yet incur
so no soul need be lost!
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
State style socks *** Bettie-Bob watch
fat Castor capture the sense of the value
of football, running behind the stupid
foreigner only a miserable Shadow costumes
ignorance & especially ***** to meet the goddess *****
Cyrene what else went on in ***** warm-up
jackets morning rain Dawn however,
Jesus Christ is visible in the right half stand
began to film enough time to die,
a courtesan movement holy age inspect the shore
of the St Clare man on the street w/ people
& give tie plural mountains propaganda dreams
thanks to the painting volume of Gallic monastic
habit pattern of Asia; Public style socks *** Bettie
Bob watch fat Castor capture the sense of the price
of football, running behind a stupid foreigner
only desert Frank costumes ignorance
of the most sediment to meet the goddess
beat Cyrene what else went on in *****
warm-up jackets morning rain
truth of Jesus Christ Dawn visible to the right stand began half a film
once to die wide enough for the motion courtesan
age surprised to inspect the shore
of the Jewish St. Clare, the man in the street
plural tithed for men & pay
from the mountains propaganda dreams, thanks to the painting volume
because of the Gallic monastic
dress scheme of the province of Asia, it came to pass
in the open is to say, I will not remember
a part of the responsibility of the sheaths
of the fate of the few he has, indeed,
out of the mountains, the queen,
& the adulterous look
from her in the midst, that he thinks of the skin-free.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 1:47 PM UTC