"pontius" poems
Lady Macbeth washed her hands
cleaner than Pontius Pilate
with a new improved, bio-enzyme
oxy-bursting, 99.9% germ-scouring
recommended by dermato-logists
scented with rose attar
oils from Arabia
and spermaceti soothing
unguents from long dead whales.
She’s going to the nail bar
for a manicure and application
of semi-permanent, diamond-
tipped, acrylic base-coated
in red blood enamel.
She’ll scratch
and etch rich tattoos
on her husband’s back
with every ****** he will shudder
with pain and delight
He’ll soon forget long, dark nights
bewitched by ghosts and ambition.
© M.L. Emmett
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 2:55 AM UTC
the sounds are there, they come through walls
right around the corner
they're not visual, they're miserable and in need
they're equal opportunity exhibitionists
lovers of a family get together, taking everything in
parasitic and aware, destitute and stuck
but they're also there at the wrong time
the wrong time for the person who's alone
the wrong time for a person who's disconnected
because they want to be enjoying peace and quiet
alone
by themselves in an old house
with summer outside making its noises, crickets
trees rustling under a jeweled sky, the pinnacle of up high
breathing in the home air of cannibus, lotion and food
being disturbed is far from a thought, but unavoidable
simultaneously
because the house has a strange history
the basement floods, and the machinery kicks in
the mind ponders as the constellations wander
the nights grow and shrink, the body is dry, bone dry
the shower is turned on, soap, shampoo
lost in the mind on autopilot
until the spine stiffens
its without a doubt that I'm not alone now
a minute ago i was the master of this house
a minute ago I was naked in the hallway, smoking a cigar
now I've been usurped and I just want to barricade myself
in this house that I've live in for 15 years, now i beg for permission
to stay just one more night
I beg because how could I possibly fight
It's my conscious or the pontius pilate
I hope it's the former, because if not, blowout the pilot light
There's little hope for re-ignition or stellar recognition
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
And a voice that came thundering,
All the poison, that you all tasted,
And all the one left, now unwashed,
hearing nothing but silence,
becoming the one's who suffered,
when all the believers, died,
and the non believers, survived,
the destruction of the planet,
hatred heated by a human cannon.
Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.
When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
Adam and Eve was created,
To love and be Mother Earth,
Father Dearest,
Forbidden Fruit that sent you,
to Hell,
Oh Adam, You're the Devil, Lucifer,
Adam, Did you heard the snake voice,
Why did you follow the advice,
To pick and eat,
Do you live in all of us,
Do we eat, to become Deceit.
Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.
When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
Everything is our posion,
Welcome Poseidon beside us,
Say Hello Pontius,
God in our heads,
Run to the Waves of that the tide tends,
In foul disposition trends,
As we welcome all our catasthrophes,
All the hate, all the lies,
All our devine that we hide in Denial,
Suicidal Kings and Queens, Here our Heresy,
Maybe Religion is a win,
Maybe it just a way of sin,
All I know it just a linchpin of support,
Belief and stability,
Belief and hatred,
Maybe Communities in it to win it,
to scream and fight and hit back,
False Flag, Attack that,
Found Guilty through entrapment,
Of our commandments,
You're cooperation is commended,
Since the corporation demands it.
Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.
Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 9:32 PM UTC
/ innocent until prōven guilty,
contra guilty until
prōven innocent...
ah!
so the minority report?
guilty, while innocent,
based upon a premonition?
hindsight with a zodiac
type of interpretation...
innocent until prōven guilty
has no superiority
in practice over the continental
guilty until prōven innocent...
no... because the principle invokes
presuppositions,
of suppositions...
treating the two as propositions -
or rather... "verbs" inacted...
innocent until prōven guilty -
then no understanding of freedom,
at least guilty until prōven innocent
allows understanding
restraint, however unfair,
with 18 years lost...
and then the tears of relief!
Tomasz Komenda...
an "espionage" case of staging
empathy...
en masse...
an innocent man walks away
from falsely imposed justice measures...
a redemption...
a count de monte cristo
allowance...
but in reverse?
the evil man walks free...
succumbing to old age,
and dementia, a pontius pilate pardon...
there is no redemption aspect
of the saxon course of applying jurisprudence...
the... innocent, until prōven guilty,
contra: guilty until prōven innocent
schizophrenia?
the latter overshadows
the former...
because we're not babies...
at least with the latter:
there's a redemption exegesis -
but with the former?
bitter-sweet tears within
the confines, of an example akin
to jimmy savile...
guilty until prōven innocent
has much more authentic emotional
content, with a redemption narrative...
innocent until prōven guilty
has? not much,
just a grave,
and the stunted emotional expression,
what ought to be flowers
within the heart,
instead: fungus, growing in the dark...
and thus... translating
to other hearts:
let's allow this chemo-phobia
chemo-philia experiment
be left intact in its the momentum...
honestly... the study of law -
is probably the ********* game
in the allowance of games of
adulthood... one tier above gambling.
p.s.
because you know there's proof:
and that the past-participle
thrown into a future, does require
an omega rather than an omicron...
not an oh, but an ooh...
hence? reign from above,
on the omicron, with a macron (ō).
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
***** Hands
Are they clean?
Pontius Pilate, washing those hands that night, now are the filthy deeds made white!
America, do tell about the politicians blind-eyed toward homeless people in the streets, tell me about children starving to death?
Does a wealthy man cleanse hiimself as the blood leaves his hands?
Banning guns & glocks, as girls
are sold into slavery, in the blocks.
A gift for kids to go to school
It's not a gift to get shot up.
From poverty to bullies to school shootings, Mrs. Liberty has lost her footing.
When we go home, locking doors and turning the noise up, is washing of the hands with soap, making us whole?
Mar 12, 2021
Mar 12, 2021 at 11:48 PM UTC
Who else in this inhumane edifice
can dance while the suspecting eyes stare
at his moistened armpit?
Pathetically unknowing music uplifts not just the soul but the intellect.
Who else got the fire in imparting?
or …
did theirs even start a single spark since then?
Who else brings out the best in these hopefuls?
It’s all the worse and worst that they see.
And you think San Pedro would be pleased
when you gloat you made all the priests, doctors, and engineers?
Woe to you who humiliate the chair by your indolent butts
while uttering kindergartenous blabbers you claim to be education!
Then you get all you want while tabula rasa remains tabula rasa.
And you
You seated on the higher chairs!
Why don’t you trample down awhile
and put your cataracting sight to use
before it even brings you to the death of light.
Has anyone of you even heard what your god told to Pontius Pilate?
Ha! The you-have-no-power-over-me’s have always been impervious to you bigots!
And you say to your kin let me handle it.
When it is delayed and their impatience grows
you see they’ll leave.
Did you ever fret about deadlines
of bills, of matriculas, of debts?
What do you feed to your clan? Feeds?
Get Ripley’s here!
Oh how divine to utter all the Fs!
©Glenn L. Sentes
February 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 5:41 AM UTC
1735
One crown that no one seeks
And yet the highest head
Its isolation coveted
Its stigma deified
While Pontius Pilate lives
In whatsoever hell
That coronation pierces him
He recollects it well.
3.1k
basic arithmetic in terms of punctuation, otherwise? simply the arithmetic of punctuation: what does (,) equal? what does (.) equal? what does (:) equal? what does (-) equal? what does (;) equal? come on, quick! quick! give me a number!
to think, is to not narrate,
much of what is regarded as
"thinking", simply becomes as art
of narration
that is sofa-bound, i.e. so comfortable
that it feels it has no inclination
toward the use of hands as ever
being idle, it simply replaces
hands with a tongue...
hence: idle speech,
hence political speech;
so if the "devil" has work for idle hands,
then "god" has work for the idle zunge
(tongue)...
but most people don't think,
because their thinkling is solely about
narrating,
their day-to-day...
and i appreciate this custom,
in the cognitive realm...
i really do...
how many jokes ushered into
the void of one's silence, neither whisphers,
nor hummings, nor whistling...
wiser still, essentially unchanged...
but heidegger's aphorism no. 285
really bothers me...
the reader looking into the narrator
given the existentialist inverted commas
(iberian inverted questioning
¿ ? that's the first step toward
an iberian existentialism)
said the third person,
with third party sources, the middle man,
the second person, and then the reader
of the writer's original testimony?
if northern existentialism (french / german...
the english were too reactionary, and
too easily bored by the continental drift)
encompasses the tool that's " "
then the iberian tool has to be the inverted
question mark, i.e. ¿ ?,
sitting comfortably? no? how about a wheelchair...
let me just break your legs and your spine.
but aphorism 285: "worldview",
"grounding", "configuring"...
i don't understand this allocation of ambiguity,
and an italic stress on da-sein / da-sein...
aren't all the three descriptive elements /
adjectives the purposive sentiments for
originating the concept of dasein?
i had to counter with an iberian existential tool...
after all i said, 'he said', "we said"...
it's a third party medium
of supposed ambiguity...
if there's a santa claus (satan's clause),
then there's pontius pilate's clause,
found in the existential tool of double-ditto " "
or as the english like to say: inverted commas;
or the ritual: of washing your hands clean
from passing the judgement...
they're citation marks to be honest, come on,
let's be pompous, they donned 19th top-hats
at ascot's horse races! who's fooling who?
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 7:25 AM UTC
a gathering;
parietal.
upon the hill.
where truth beguiled,
and brightened by
the suns of gods;
crucified...
somehow
outshone by
the light of our skin.
where
the dagger rests,
now sleeping
in the flesh;
the blood of martyrs
was not enough
for the black sky
over Golgotha.
oh father,
forgive us
for we know not what
we do.
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
"Will you marry me?”
whispered her sly slivers of purple,
prestige and occasional lie five years later.
And had we not been asunder
that very same altar we’d sought fallen stars on
several days prior, I’d have said, “no.”
Sure, she’d brought a bounty oranges,
but could he, if ever, answer with the hand
that’d waived like the incense before?
He said “yes.”
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
Right off the bat, I want to remind you that I'm not sorry.
That being said.
Sometimes, I empathize with
Lady Macbeth
and her perpetually stained hands.
More often, I sympathize with
Pontius Pilate
and his hands that never got *****
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 9:24 PM UTC
.oh look, i can take a screen-shot... so i don't appear as some rambling internet lunatic... sorry about the outcome of what my original ought to have looked like... out of my Pontius' hands... just like a retired person doesn't understand mobile phones... me and a.i.? can we go back to when i could have understood Dunkirk?!
ever notice this?
the NPC meme...
see the transformation
when you insert...
eyebrows?
\ /
. .
/_
_
oh look, a rabbit?!
volatile buggers...
listen...
what?!
i didn't say anything!
i couldn't get the angle right...
does vvvv or wwwww
represent a grrr: of frustration
of clenched teeth?
let's see...
\ /
. .
/_
_
satan! oh, hey bro, thanks
for coming...
\ /
. .
/_
vvvv
**** that's not going to work...
you can't craft memes using
letters, letters are too complicated
for a meme...
you need the reserve bank of
punctuation and "punctuation"
markers...
****
my bad...
you know... the nights that i spend
listening to music,
and not listening to alt. media
commentators?
SLOUGH, S'LOW,
SL'OH....
the hours pass, slow...
if they ever translate...
oh look... 'ere one...
'ere one for the memes...
__
ΙΧΘΥΣ ιχθυς / __ /|
|__ |/
kevin & perry go large...
what?
*big fish, little fish,
cardboard box*?
don't know the dance routine?
it's a ******* classic...
a bit like the Sheryl Crow
debut album.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC
Let as many Bondservants as are under the Yoke Count their own Masters Worthy of all Honor, so that the name Of GOD and His Doctrine may not be Blasphemed. And those who have believing masters, let them not Despise them because they are Brethren, but rather Serve them because those who are Benefited are Believers and Beloved. Teach and Exhort these things. If anyone Teaches otherwise and Does not Consent to Wholesome Words even the Words of our LORD Jesus Christ, and to the Doctrine which Accords with Godliness. He is Proud, knowing nothing, but is Obsessed with Disputes and Arguments over Words, from which Come Envy, Strife, Reviling, Evil-Suspicions. Useless Wranglings of Men of Corrupt Minds and Destitute of the Truth, who Suppose that Godliness is A means of Gain. From such Withdraw Thyself. Now Godliness with Contentment is Great Gain. For we Brought nothing into this World, and it is Certained We Can Carry Nothing Out. And having Food and Clothing, with these we shall be Content. But those who Desire to be Rich Fall into Temptation and Snare, and into many Foolish and Harmful Lusts which Drown Men in Destruction and Perdition. For the Love Of Money Is A Root Of All Kinds Of Evil, for which some have Strayed from the Faith in their Greediness, and Pierced Themselves through with many Sorrows. But thou, O Man Of GOD, Flee these things and Pursue Righteousness, Godliness, Faith, LOVE, Patience and Gentleness. Fight the Good Fight Of Faith, lay hold on Eternal Life, to which thou were also called and have Confessed the Good Confession in the Presence of many Witnesses. I Urge You, in the Sight of GOD who gives Life to All things, and before Christ Jesus who Witnessed the Good Confession before Pontius Pilate. That thou Keep this Commandment without Spot, Blameless until our Lord Jesus Christ's Appearing. Which He will Manifest in His Own Time, He who is the Blessed and Only Potentate, Thy King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Who alone has Immortality, Dwelling in Unapproachable Light, whom no Man has Seen or can See, to whom Be Honor and Everlasting Power. Amen... Command those who are Rich in this present Age not to be Haughty, nor to Trust in Uncertain Riches but Trust in the Living GOD, who gives Us Richly all things to Enjoy. Let them do Good, that they be Rich in Good Works, ready to Give, Willing to Share. Storing up for themselves a Good Foundation for the Time to Come, that they may lay Hold on Eternal Life... Guard what was committed to Your Trust, Avoiding the Profane and Idle Babble and Contradictions of what is Falsely called Knowledge.... By Professing it some have Strayed Concerning the Faith.. Grace Be with Ours All.. Amen.!
GOD Is Our Strength,
GOD Is Love,
GOD With Us,
GOD Bless,
Peace n Love.!!
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 3:30 AM UTC
And Jesus said, "He who drinks from my mouth will become as I am and I shall be he"
Gnostic Gospel of Thomas vs. 108
*1
They sang and
they danced in
praise of the
Savior
And I left the church
I walked quickly
and I was at the
water's edge.
A man waist deep
offered to baptize
me in the name
of the Lord...
And I did not stop
Further on, a sorrowful
Mother asked if perhaps
I knew of her son
Jesus…
But I pretended not to hear.
In the forest
the twelve
approached me
with a message
of good news...
But I paid them no mind.
2
And when I came
to a clearing I met
a young man whom
I had always known.
His beard was unkempt
and blood was dripping
from wounds in his hands
and feet.
A crown of thorns sat
upon his head, and blood
trickled down his cheek.
'Do you know me?' he asked.
'Of course I know you!' I shouted.
'I left you behind at the church!
At the river, one of your followers
sought to baptize me and along the
road a Mother spoke your name.
In the forest, your apostles
confronted me with your
message.
Did I not take my leave
of them all?
I thought I was rid of you,
yet here you stand
Tell me! Why do you haunt me?
Why can I not leave you behind?'
3
He grabbed my shoulders
and I felt the pain in all
of my body and in all
of my being
and he asked me again:
'Do you know who I am?'
'You are the Christ!' I cried
'And I have heard your
story from every church and
holy man in the kingdom.
But I want nothing to do
with you!
I want only to leave you
behind and live my life
At this he looked into
my eyes and as his
penetrating stare drew
my senses to his being,
his face began to change.
He was one of the
singing parishioners at
the church.
Then another,
and another until the
likeness of each one
was in him.
Then he was the
man in the river
and the Mother,
and every one
of the twelve
and I stared
in disbelief
He began to take
on the appearance
of everyone I had
ever known and
even those I would
never meet.
His face was changing rapidly:
African, Asian, Spaniard, European,
From every race and every creed
he became everyone who ever was
and everyone who ever will be…
A few I recognized.
Mohamed, Caesar, the Buddha,
Pontius Pilate, Krishna, Herod,
Moses, Pharaoh.
Faster and faster he changed until
I was dizzy with incomprehension.
Then, as quickly as it had begun,
the celestial parade ceased.
He was Jesus again, standing before me.
His hands and feet caked in blood.
The crown of thorns still resting atop
his head.
4
'I do not understand,' I said.
And he smiled.
And again he looked into my eyes.
'You can never leave me behind.'
And as he spoke he began to change again,
And I found myself standing before another image.
One I surely knew well.
There…
In the clearing of a forest
that existed beyond the boundaries
of space and time,
I looked into my own eyes...
And understood.*
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 5:16 AM UTC
527
To put this World down, like a Bundle—
And walk steady, away,
Requires Energy—possibly Agony—
’Tis the Scarlet way
Trodden with straight renunciation
By the Son of God—
Later, his faint Confederates
Justify the Road—
Flavors of that old Crucifixion—
Filaments of Bloom, Pontius Pilate sowed—
Strong Clusters, from Barabbas’ Tomb—
Sacrament, Saints partook before us—
Patent, every drop,
With the Brand of the Gentile Drinker
Who indorsed the Cup—
1.2k
sometimes, i look at dainty strong marble effigies
of the ****** mary holding her birth-bloodied son
and wonder if some loves aren't meant for everyone.
chastity-locked inside my heart, there's a woman
who wears long sundresses and lives in the little mac and cheese potluck moments;
she prays her rosary and feels the warm arms
of her traditional husband who loves her as a duty.
as for jesus, well, he's a cheap plastic figurine
she bought from ebay and stuck on the dashboard of her car;
the heat melted his feet in a crucifixion of 2020
but he still stands, wobbly and shaky and commercialised.
when she travels, she prays to him for safety.
(she doesn't travel a lot. she's happy to be stagnant and pray for still waters every morning.)
who cares about my heart, though?
who loves unconditionally and always,
and sees through the rips of cartilage and crushed aorta -
who will look and look and look
and see me? sorry, see me? sorry, see me out.
sometimes, i want to be a child again;
cradled in my mother's arms. sometimes,
i want to no longer put my dreams on hold.
sometimes, i want the world to look at me and say
"hey, pontius pilate, there's another one for martyrdom."
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
25th of December
Came Christ the redeemer
Emerged the age of Christianity
The largest in the history of humanity
Along rose the Church and the Pope
Jerusalem gave people a new hope
The 12 apostles followed his sign
Spreading the words of Jesus Christ
But good never comes without its parallèle
And it came in the form of Pontius Pilate
30 pieces of silver satisfied Judas
A man's greed killed Jesus
Betrayed but never abandoned
Crucified and yet reformed
Two days passed after that cursed Friday
And he returned on Easter Sunday
Easter came with the Easter bunny
Began the egg hunt, entertaining so many
And then came the best of the best
The festival which cloaked the rest
Jingle bells, reindeers, mistletoe
It won the hearts of both young and old
Began the Christmas fever
T'was delightful for every believer
The quest for the right tree
The perfect gifts for family
Even the children were not left behind
Santa Claus brought their shine
Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, ***** Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen, and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Made his coming a sight to remember
The lovely winter announced its coming
And spring notified its leaving
The glorious season made everyone gay
The white snow, the one horse open sleigh
Carols made Christmas melodious
The community greetings made it glorious
A holiday Longly waited for
A season always remembered for
Christmas, the time of joy and love
Enjoy this season and await a new year with a fresh beginning and hope...
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 6:49 AM UTC
you know why i'm not afraid
of plagiarism?
memes...
funny, isn't it,
i don't mind, or, rather,
i started to not mind plagiarism...
because the plagiarists have
been inseminated, ***** even,
i don't know whether i ever
owned a puppet,
but if i'm plagiarised i own a:
cohort...
it's nice...
you can rule by ridicule
rather than be ridiculed
as ruling,
notably the english monarchy...
it's nice to have pawns who
don't even think they aren't
pawns...
but that's the beauty
of intellectual virology -
an idea is like a virus,
and the fact intact remains
signifying:
well: go ahead with it...
i don't mind anonymous
"credit" 4 it...
you think i have
i have any complacency to mind?
rot the gnat and vermin...
i am the one to fuse
plague and language together...
man was
always endowed with a heart
and woman with a heart,
when it came to, politics...
women always, meddle...
how isn't punctuation
important in writing,
given it be necessary that
equate punctuation with rhyme
and consolidate prose with poetics...
punctuation = rhyme -
overseer? yes.
- and why do i not mind plagiarism,
pontius pilate...
the only person worth
being remembered of the new testament...
oops..
why do i not mind
plagiarism... i know they'll mutate,
morph...
but that doesn't matter...
a part of me remains,
and all the better should the plagiarism
be otherwise be defined...
but it's too late:
the innocent seed competes
with the forbidden fruit...
i have my paupers and my
puppets...
for grit and gift of word,
i have my: assembly...
you can plagiarise all you want,
all i ever gain is yet another
puppeteer's string of
limb annexed.
i love the idea of memes & plagiarism...
it means the utmost anonymous
influence being exerted:
how far is the puppeteer away
from the necrophiliac, may i ask?
thank you for a chance to
not prioritise a demand for
a gene chronology on the altar of Cronus,
allowing me, to,
********** my meme,
rather than consecrating my gene
in the ******* of fake white
and...
the agony of what would be to come...
ever wonder the mystery
of autumn, when a southern wind
blows?
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 8:26 PM UTC
Endlessly, relentlessly, you make
haste by unbroken parable, cry
incense incensed, censure me, call
names of the unjust, we’re unjust, there’s
unbroken like fish and bread in
multitudes, swing low and wide on
fingertips that have never known bare
skin the way I have known
yours, chariots lost on pharoah’s
feet and dying prodigals covering
little ground.
Calling him, you came like
waves on shore parting for
boat hulls, licking up
starboard side thirsty for
purpose, raising church in three
days making metaphor into
matter, I met you halfway, holding staff
still dripping crimson on toes that
hadn’t yet touched the sea.
We made miracles.
I’ve yet to find contentment among
tents pitched forty days
ago, dusted in sugar burning
tongues too used to manna, leaning
‘against winds that
whisper designs o'er mount Sinai,
whisper Pontius Pilate condemnation,
whisper platitudes Peter proclaimed
before **** crowed thrice.
Crucify us.
We don’t dare step down.
Raise us.
We’ve yet to sin.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
most of the angels avert their gaze
a few stare, their glares embedded
in my bare chest and just one
watches quietly from the corner
what would Judas think about
the scarves? one wrapped around
my wrists and the other around
my eyes with my teeth clenched
my back is arched above the
towel you put on your sheets just
in case. did jesus ever think about
his safeword as he hung on the cross?
‘Do you like that?’ whispers Pontius Pilate
gasping I respond, ‘Yes sir,’
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 1:20 PM UTC
All souls that pray to Heaven in distress
Appeal to that realm's King to banish pain
For pity, peace and mercy and for bless
Find in love of him end of disdain
That hippy Lord, the shepherd boy divine
The sacred heart of Mary in thy chest
Is there beauty commensurate to thine
In all the world? I make of thee my nest
My rock, my passion, inspiration too
My muse, my altar, prophet love the child
Who tender in their sleep protect by you
With golden gentle aura ever mild
Angels song for thee exalts thy heart
Beget their alms of praise to honour thee
When on black day on hell's hill you depart
Hung upon a cross of misery
The masses weep in sorrow cry for days
Time condemns the crowd of braying brutes
Believe not thee but lies Barabus says
See Pontius Pilot in wicked cahoots
But thy compassion vindicates thy name
Jesus Christ the muse of divine souls
Indulge the joy of you without sin, shame
Your suffering? Their righteousness appalled
Let all the world all time praise thy sweet dreams
Of paradise for virtuous and kind
Who live as single heart one with no seam
And dwell in love: activity refined
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:13 AM UTC
For a man who held fire in his homilies
and set the souls aflame with hell
he was gentle at the apse, smiling, smiling
warm hands and crisp cuffs and collars
no burns or bruises
nothing to give away his belief
in kingdoms buried in the clouds
of scriptures that he could quote
adding references to each little parable
like he himself, managed the manuscripts.
Come Easter, and the darkness would settle
on his purple robes and sceptre
as he walked down the aisle resplendent
and roman as Pontius Pilate
with a cleaner soul.
Christmas was different, he patted children's heads
blessed the old nanas who dropped off those chocolate
cakes and port wine, fortified with ***
and brandy biscuits. He was always thankful for the spirit.
But the day he looked at me long and hard
the spark of hell ignited my guilt
at not going to Mass for a whole summer of sun
and without a twitch of his bushy eyebrows he said:
"Been busy getting a suntan? Hell will make you black!"
but he grinned that extra-sip of wine grin
and I entered the church to repent
for all the sins I did not commit!
Bless me Father.... blah blah blah....
Author Notes
I know him well. He once called me an 'outstanding Catholic' because I stood outside most of the time!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
Is it ******* cold in here
or is it just the lies they steer
your mind to fear with
know you cannot see it
or believe this truth I spit
sounds too familiar to the pulpit
calling Satan the culprit
of lust ego sin all of it
you just fall for it like that's all there is
not realizing that all of creation is His
YHWH is His name so the scriptures say
though you may think
it's been passed down falsely to your dismay
there's a side differing see Titus did write this
history Roman in a tome and he talked of
Jesus Christ getting hung up
on the cruc-a-fix He walked with
how Pontius talked with high priests over
Passover feast to hand over
the seed sower heavenly kingdom grower
the only One to the Father show-er
even Jewish Scribes describe of
Yehoshua's vibe was in their eyes that of
a magician so don't be dissin miracles
or call the Holy Spirit unclean at all
that's the biggest sin of all
If I recall any of you cowering away
from this Jew because of what I say
just pipe up so I can brush off the dirt
from my sandals and walk along His way
Know I ain't no snitch Randal just a vandal
making candles you can't handle
light too bright blind your sight
like right away back to the cave
so your chained brother's you can save
Just in these waters making waves
I can tell we ain't quaint by how you behave
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
are they clean he asked
- just want clean hands said Pontius
and all Pilates since
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 7:21 PM UTC
The empire is guilty of numerous sins.
It hasn't always acted like the emblem of justice.
More blood stains its hands than Pontius Pilate.
Interests often blind her from obvious truth.
Still, she is war ready.
Her armies and commanders of the sea stand guard.
Because every once in a while she gets it right.
She brings truth.
She brings fairness.
She brings justice.
On occasion, she can be a global symbol.
Now, red lines in the sand find themselves crossed.
The empire shakes with anger.
Loss of innocence, we cannot tolerate.
Her people will soon be on her side.
She is war ready.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 10:32 PM UTC