"sabachthani" poems
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.
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
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!
2.5k
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.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
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
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
Elohim!
(I)
trusted friend… betrays
healing hands… pierced
holy teacher… silenced
and nailed to a cross
“Jesus of Nazareth
King of the Jews”
***
my son
died today
Elohim!
(II)
Heed my voice crying in the wilderness!
Do not abandon me in my anguish
But attend, and weep with me now!
*for blood rage would not be subdued!
“His blood be on us!” they cried”
“And on our children!” they shouted*
Shine your light of mercy on my soul!
I stumble through the bleak wasteland of grief,
blinded by infinite darkness!
*for blood rage would not be subdued!
“His blood be on us!” they cried”
“And on our children!” they shouted*
The righteous cry but does the Lord hear?
I call unto you as my son did cry
“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?”
*for blood rage would not be subdued!
“His blood be on us!” they cried”
“And on our children!” they shouted*
Elohim!
(III)
Silently
He watches the sleeping woman,
in the unquiet repose known only to a grieving mother
she moans, *“blood rage…powerless.. my son”
“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani!”*
Tears well in his eyes
As his heart is once again pierced
Gently
his hand brushes her forehead
the touch causing her to stir slightly
and cast it away as though a fleck of dust
dare intrude on her personal nightmare.
Kissing her cheeks, her eyes,
He whispers “Mother!”
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
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."
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 3:59 PM UTC
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?"
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
Have you ever prayer with a letter to an illiterate god?
Pistol packed but can’t afford bullets,
Our fridges are starving, insufficient funds rises our insulin.
Ready to sail to our green pastures
But our ****** drowned in pirates’ palms,
Those who see man suffering hate their semen’s victory,
Our talent mummified because we can’t afford to live out our dreams.
We are rejects of the system, deviants to the society
Every year our resolutions are the same
Yet we been writing them for decades
Born with no silver-spoon but promised street of gold
So I turned to the God:
“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?”
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 4:27 AM UTC
"Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?"
So He said in despair.
Son of The Father, you call him?
Now, He is so unfair.
Why did A Father abandon His child?
A wrong number.
Do you all believe in falsehood?
Unmonitored childcare.
Even Eli's Son found His faith unsure.
Then how can you be so sure?
The Son thought that The Father abandoned Him.
Is such a
Father
trustworthy of your human faith?
I'd have such a Father under probation,
And His Child under human protection.
Find your faith in Rámà and Křšņà
Because they are both the same.
He is Vìšņù,
The Conserver.
He is without any sin,
The Faithful Protector.
He will never betray you.
Wait for the Kalki to reveal,
As for the Devil's faith, Kalki will dismantle.
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 6:40 AM UTC
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
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 9:35 PM UTC
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 ' ~
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
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 ~
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 12:55 PM UTC
See this
The cupped hands
The fat in the lamb
The fable, the stones,
The hook that stands
The shepherd's door
Cross the red dirt floor
The Black Usk
Snaking under
Table mountain
Green with
Lambs that lick
At grass drenched
In peeling bells
That climb and call
Your dust to prayer
Now kneel
Cold cushions
Under high glass
Stained for sinners
_Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani_
Your fat in the lamb
Your crimson hands
Better you bury
Your rind in red earth
To cure your warts
With a whisper
And send your sins
To the dirt
Jul 22, 2023
Jul 22, 2023 at 7:15 AM UTC