Save thyself and come down
From the cross
Likewise also the chief priests
Mocking said amongst themselves

With the scribes he saved other's
Himself he cannot save
Let Christ the king of Israel
Descend now from the cross
That we may see and believe

And they that were crucified with him reviled him
And when the sixth hour was come there was darkness
Over the whole of the land until the ninth hour
And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice
Saying Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani? Which is being interpreted as
My God My God why hast thou forsaken me?

And entering into the sepulchre they saw a young man
Sitting on the right side clothed in a long white garment
And they were affrighted and he said unto them be not affrighted

Now when Jesus was risen early in the first day of the week
He appeared first to Mary Magdalene out of whom he had cast seven devils and when she told them that he had had been with him as they mourned and wept and they heard he was alive believed not

And he said unto them go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved but he that believeth not shall be ****** and these signs shall follow them that believe and in my name shall thy cast out devils they shall speak with new tongues they shall take up serpents and if they drink deadly things it shall not hurt them they shall lay hands on the sick and they shall recover so then

after the Lord had spoken unto them he was received up into heaven and sat on the right side of God and they went forth and preached every where the Lord working with them and confirming the words with signs following Amen.

313

I should have been too glad, I see—
Too lifted—for the scant degree
Of Life’s penurious Round—
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference—have blamed—
The homelier time behind.

I should have been too saved—I see—
Too rescued—Fear too dim to me
That I could spell the Prayer
I knew so perfect—yesterday—
That Scalding One—Sabachthani—
Recited fluent—here—

Earth would have been too much—I see—
And Heaven—not enough for me—
I should have had the Joy
Without the Fear—to justify—
The Palm—without the Calvary—
So Savior—Crucify—
Defeat—whets Victory—they say—
The Reefs—in old Gethsemane—
Endear the Coast—beyond!
’Tis Beggars—Banquets—can define—
’Tis Parching—vitalizes Wine—
“Faith” bleats—to understand!

It started with a kiss.

A burn of acid across my cheek,
It's poisoned implication:
"Here, this is the woman you seek."

It followed with thirty pieces,

The weight cumbrous in hand.
Your wine and bread so exquisite,
Suddenly fell flat, turned to sand.

It climaxed with Damascus,

Truth a blinding light across my eyes.
I'd betrayed all I am for silver,
Cheered as you shaped my demise.

It ended with a field of blood.

My innards spilled onto the ground,
Blooded hands foraging:
"I was lost but now I'm found."

The Great King Stands
Above the earth
As thunder rolls beneath
Tears of sorrow
Streams down His face
As His sacred Lamb
Calls out for Grace
My God, My God, Forsake me not!
In a moment of Silence
The King turns away
It cannot be complete
Unless for their sins YOU pay
And as the Son Cries out
It is finished!
Creation in silence held its breath
waiting, anticipating The act of The King
And as He reached down
Into our Realm
The Son wept and said
Eli, Eli! Lama, Sabachthani
And into the hand
Of the Great and Mighty King
His spirit and last breath flowed
And with it, sin forever slain.

You sit outside on your front porch, with nothing to do but look out on
The dream
Contemplations haunt these new, dusty streets
    intersecting in your mind are regrets not easily left behind
Loving the self inflicted pain produced inside
   Get up and leave that porch
   Make a left and walk until collapse
When will the music come back
A heart attack almost welcoming
A deer in the headlights
Swerve right
Durango has a high high
height

Grips me
Grabs me
Lusts me
Locks me a POP chorus run off rails
Unspecified Undesirable Unseen
But
Understood.
U-Turn leave the
Unholy
Otherworldly siege of temptations
Judas Iscariot ascending as Icarus
Only to realize inevitably dust settles

What becomes of one with a broken compass?
Who leads who in a world of acidreaming prophecies ?
An age of false promises and dot.com **** Bellaire
Ownership
My land of the free
Your home of the Brave
New World without bees

Sweat a skip in the record
Burn what you think you should do
Listen to the ghosts inside your head
Blur… just ******* blur EVERYTHING
Become anonymous
Become famous
Drop out
Knock out Lady Luck      AHHHH ****
Because it is importantly cool not togiveafuck


Lumpy lopsided souls stand in line
Don’t drug inject fluoride Put a plug in the self deprecating whines or get back in line with a gaze of blight
Beg for pearly whites
Everything conspicuous
Everyone a conspiracy
Eat WalledoffStreet as it crumbles
Cash in
Sell out
What?

Yourself.                                                                  (Ascend)

“Cultivate” your garden *******
Not you, Him. who? Johnny Flynn the Banjo God
I will tell you without being candid. You are Candide. And No one will give you what you need

Icy desolated deserted
Macdade Boulevards across lands of death
Induce a sigh of your own breath
Whispering
Eli Eli lama Sabachthani

In deduction
Of an ethnographic construction
I’ll stay in flux
From one State frustrating
Across the lines of another contemplating
The beautiful country Delco
Far! Far … ~away~ >forever inside

I walked into our chapel
shoulders back,
head high,
dignified.

No Catholic shame
forced my eyes
to the mosaic aisle

Trodden Over
by my Sandaled feet,

It was a feast day,
praising God
with our laughter
and shared
beneficence.

We joined
in joyful prayer,
receiving each other's
sacrament
with the reverence
of saints

but just as I sang
the psalms the loudest
there came
an unholy silence,

Believing I was being
tempted,
I fell to my knees,
contemplated
your wonder

waiting for your return
to your
prodigal lover;

squandering our
sacred time,
not counting the blessings of
our moments of grace.

I hung upon
my silent cross,
weeping into my
wine-soaked rag

Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani  

Descending into
Despair,

Waiting for
an Easter
that I swore
had been prophesized,

Even upon your
high holy
return,

you seemed resurrected,
and yet I not saved.

I felt like Moses
on his day of death
beholding
the promised land
covenanted by
souls

and yet
remaining in
this desert
thirsty for
the wellspring
that seemed to be sitting
behind your eyes,
the water that would
quench
my forever thirst.

Despite the ache
in my dried mouth,
I'd find
the will
to stand upon my feet,
tired of relying on
a charitable heart's
sympathies
as my means of
living.

But I found
that I was
praying for
too much
from you

and I fell upon
my knees again,

wondering if
humility is meant
to leave you feeling
this broken.

And so begins the litany
of sacrifices

wondering

if you are my
love made flesh
why it is I who is

scourged,
stripped of dignity,
nailed to a cross
that I had brought here
myself

Mumbling words out
to a silent heart
that I know
hears me.

Thinking that surely
our death
will meet me soon.

But by
the clever grace of
the devil

I continue,
finding life
that should have
diminished
at two o' clock.

Is Hannukah
not
supposed to be
a celebration?

Because while burning
in this modest
Menorah lifestyle,

sacred
and
devout.

I find faith
in you

and have been shepherded
to no redemption,

but only the
salty pillars
of one who trusts
in gods
created by another God.

And upon this realization,
I rush to confession,
knowing my worship
of false idols
is not over.

As I remember
our love
as beautiful
and mighty,

I'm forced
also to remember
that
Lucifer, too,
fell when things were at
perfection.

Try as I might,
I must turn my face away,

with the hope
that something
greater

truly does await
for one
who loved paradise,
body and soul,

with the finality
of resurrection.

I'm tired of choking on my personality. Because you people are always trying to cut down people's trees and I'm that phone call that makes you put down that axe and walk back inside.
You're ruining me
I'm tired of choking on my personality. Because you people, you lovers of mine, are always trying to escape and I'm that last shot of ***** that allows your hands to find their way onto her hips. (again and again)
(and again in November)
You're ruining me
I'm tired of choking on my personality. Because you people are always asking me to listen to your sins and I haven't even found my God yet.
You're ruining me
I'm tired of choking on my personality. Because you people empty my pockets and pillage my soul and you won't even lend me five cents to visit my psychiatrist.

You people.
You people, what have I ever done to you.
**"Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"

The periapt otiose stone helotage that the tactiturn builders
Rejected at Golgotha, bode the heart of Heaven has now
Become the corner-stone henting the regal worm of worms
With temerity of the spire of spires; And they look ignominious
Upon the necromancer that they pierced testifying a vision of
Living beings, a saviour, an insuperable scorned man,
The maxim of kings, the miracle man of blood and water
Invidiously feeling despised crying out loud;
''Eloi, Eloi, Lema Sabachthani'',
Whom the ill-starred crucified and divided purloin his robes
At the rolling of dice. Yet still God raised from death much alike
The Nazarene himself had disintered Lazarus, resurrecting after
Four days his friend buried at Bethany; alike too Tabitha
Which (Simon), Peter, presented before the widows and believers
commanding alive in the name of the Almighty Holy Lord
From the clutches of the darkened Sun, clinging to the
Dark side of the moon within a star-less sky
Annointed the way to the Father.


ELEETE J MUIR

Thanks for the kind words
They were a soothing welcoming balm to be heard
Feb seems to have exposed some life schisms
I was so distraught I checked My biorhythms
Everything in front of My eyes is soured and scrawny
I resorted to ' Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani '
So much of My life is stirred and shaken
I often feel forsaken
How much do I have to endure ?
Is mindfulness the ultimate cure ?
My car was stolen and trashed
I now learn Spanish on the bus while being thrashed
My medical state reveals the industry scam
I don't have big enough male ***** for the mammogram
Rule one thing in and another thing out
I only wanted a cyst drained or cut out
New left shoulder arthritis and left sided neck pain
Bed Bath and Beyond's pillow department made that gain
Please keep Me in Your prayers as I effort to rewind Me
Pushing the bad away with ' satan, get thee behind Me ' ~

Thanks for the kind words
They were a soothing welcoming balm to be heard
Feb seems to have exposed some life schisms
I was so distraught I checked My biorhythms
Everything in front of My eyes is soured and scrawny
I resorted to ' Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani '
So much of My life is stirred and shaken
I often feel forsaken
How much do I have to endure ?
Is mindfulness the ultimate cure ?
My car was stolen and trashed
I now learn Spanish on the bus while being thrashed
My medical state reveals the industry scam
I don't have big enough male ***** for the mammogram
Rule one thing in and rule another thing one out
I only wanted a cyst cut out
New left shoulder arthritis and old left sided neck pain
Bed Bath and Beyond's pillow department made that financial gain
Please keep Me in Your prayers as I effort to rewind Me
Pushing the negative away with ' satan, get thee behind Me ~

Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani?
Christ called out upon the cross
But I do not feel my God has forsaken me
For He promised He never will,
And my soul is in His keeping always,
But at the end Christ said
"It is finished"
And at that point He died

I will never cry Eli...
But "It is finished",
That line I feel is perhaps
Time to start rehearsing,
I do not wish to pass alone,
Unmourned un-missed,
Yet in may ways that is kinder than
Causing pain to those I love

Time then - in love - to open my hand,
Let go the people I would depend upon
And fade quietly from their ken before I die
Such that,
Once word reaches them
Of my demise - though I was not their foe,
They pause a moment only,
Then shrug and walk on

"Really? Oh"

eloi, eloi
lama sabachthani?
or, more accurately,
why have i forgotten you-
did death sneak up behind
the thin pages of my holy book
leaving his fingerprints on my face
as i discard the sacred
in favor of something more human?
sifting the smoke from my airways-
hellfire isn't as good as a sauna,
but is sure does wonders
as a reality check, maybe.

To whom do I turn to?

Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabachthani.

I am my own confidant. I have exhausted all my existing options.

Diversification, Diversification, Diversification. I went all in.

I have lived long enough to see the irreversible flaws of my family. Soon, my partner will be no more. I have not invested enough in my friendships.

Perhaps, life is meant to be lived in solitude.

Like twinkling drops of hallowed lambanog
that you later called miraculous coco *****,
they remained in the night sky of your shot glass
after you tried to drown the sorrowful mysteries
in countless gulps of your comforting best friend,
anaesthetizing every pain in your fatigued heart.
There your imagined liquor-incarnate compadre
of one comforter spirit friend and brother beside
sitting, hugging your shoulders, in whispers telling
you, you’re not alone, just cry if you need to, crying
as no Jesus or Mary could save your unfortunate soul
sentenced and punished without trial, by sheer strike
of Luck or lack of it. Keeping the faith despite the fate.

Not even a single teasing demon to offer you to pawn
your one forsaken spirit. Gods are deaf. Salve Regina!
yelling to high heavens, growling to the deepest hells
"Eli, Eli, Lama, Sabachthani?” - viral pneumonia spells
the names of maimed friends and silenced co-workers
“in no particular order!” as if finalists in that pageantry,
we call pandemic - worldwide but never world class
- and only the coronavirus wears the crown and reigns.

The roll call of the departed has become as endless
as the river of tears and sent messages of sympathies
and ocean deep condolences and sincerest wishes of
peaceful rests, soul or no soul, expressed. Covid or not,
all the dead are suspected zombies and swabbed; a stick
up one’s nose has taken new meanings. And thinking
positive is suddenly not on, not in, but off – it’s feared.

Life is like the alcohol with which we wash our hands.
It easily evaporates, leaving our skin feeling cold. Like
when Sepsis claimed a dear sister on New Year’s Day –
Anxiety is a real, a dangerous reality. Then colleagues,
mentors, friends, relatives, acquaintances, mother of one
pal, a health worker, front liners, a driver, a poor child,
a teacher, a student, a jobless man, a millionaire, an idol
An aunt passes away, on one unhappy day. Grim Reaper
blindly, swiftly, sweeps the shining sickle, the scythe . . .
and the life that began at daybreak is gone, gone, so quick.
All grains harvested in just a day.
Life. Just one short day.
One day.

Christ, upon the cross looking so forlorn
To this I could have sworn
Seeing that His feet were so worn

He spent the night in Gethsemane
I will proudly kneel before Him upon bended knee
How could they so casually nail him to that tree?

His blood, for me, the earth has it stained
The remnants of his garments were completely bloodstained
Nailed upon that wooden cross, his hands and feet were pierced for me, He softly proclaimed

My heartfelt cry, my Lord, my God
I will forever hold to the iron rod
Please, just glance at me and give me the nod

For thee, I would give my life
Your pain so visible, it cuts me like a knife
Because of thee, though I die, I will yet be alive

My heart, my soul to Thee I owe
The seeds of righteousness thou didst so tenderly sow
I would not forsake thee, no, not even at the rooster’s crow

Upon the waters of Galilee
I stood next to thee
And watched as Peter, for help, did plea

These words didst thou utter: Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani, while hanging there upon that cross
These people have rejected me, this world full of dross
Sadly, it will be to their great loss

Lord, I do miss thee
Since the day thou wast nailed to that horrible tree
In the very depths of my soul is found my unshakable testimony

With thee I have trod
Throughout this lifetime of misery, I continue to plod
Thou wilt forever remain my glorious, eternal God

I for thee would have hung
Praises to thee I have sung
Hot tears falling down my cheeks have they stung

Till thou dost call to me from above
Perhaps I’ll see thee in the form of a dove
Saying come back to me and feel of my great love

Until then, I shall worship thee all day long
Hopefully that day you'll not prolong
For with thee I so belong

I look forward to the day when I’ll run into thy embrace
I for thee have run my race
My Mediator, before God the Father, will mercifully state my case

My shout for joy, I fall at thy feet
At thy table, I can see my seat
For all to hear, my songs of praise I shall forever repeat

Soon shall for everyone to see
The honor I give thee upon bended knee
For having saved thy brother, yes, even me.

Written by:
Jason Cheney
My Testimony of my Saviour and my God
November 17, 2020
1 Peter 2:21-22, 24