Easter poetry

Dinner with friends
Drink and eat, for you must soon understand
that the order from my father is one final demand.
Soon we shall part, and then with a start
you'll cry, and mourn, but you must take heart.
Washing you now – know you are clean –
for a savior you know – it’s him you have seen.
Do as the teacher shows, no servant is greater,
so do not disobey now or sooner or even later.
This body will break – for you it must.
This blood a covenant bond you shall trust.
Go – ignoring the hate – it is the same;
I know it well, such is the price of this fame.
I am the way; I’m the truth and the life,
and though you may not get it now, you are my wife.

Gardens at night
Tears flowing like blood,
sorrow sinking like mud,
purpose sure,
loving life pure.
Giving all for life,
fearful of such strife,
not quite ready for the knife,
agape for chosen wife.
Another could do this, not true?
Why not another, why me and you?
Do not abandon, won’t survive if you do.
Almost ready to be unleashed to the zoo.
All this must happen, musn’t it?
My friends won’t survive the bottomless pit.
Remind them to not turn back or wait and sit;
make their hearts pure, minds sound, and spirits fit.
So much awaits, but the end so daunts;
what nightmares I’ve had, a vision that haunts.
Soon ears will hear reckless and vicious taunts;
but no reply will they receive – though it is one of their wants.
Rising, lights awaken me to the end,
they come to take me, men for whom I did not send.
This evil, from a brother who I knew upon not to depend,
for such is the vision I know of lambs I would tend.
Chains and beatings begin,
the kiss to seal the sin,
a battle they cannot win.
Ready as I’ll ever be, I am in.

Friday, before dawn
Cursed and condemned by those who think they know,
betrayed by a brother, now the rest don’t even show –
another denying three times before turning to go,
a world drowned in madness, ruled by an evil shadow.
But all are cast by a reflection inside.
All listen not to the father, bit opinions far and wide.
But no force can turn back the coming tide,
and it is for this that innocence will have died.
The keys lie far below, eyes see now true.
The pain must be suffered, and done so for you.
The burden is mine and has always been;
this is the cost of life, the wage for sin.
Do not forget to reopen the door.
In three days you’ll see what was in store.
Comprehension will arrive that night,
And then you can choose to follow what is wrong or what is right.

Morning sickness (Friday after dawn)
Thirty-nine cattails.
Bleeding crown of thorns.
Fist upon fist to face, side and below.
Kicks to the groin, the nightmare still to go.
Lies and screams.
Spit and beams.
Torn wounds from skin dried and peeled.
Ground into sand and dust and mud and steel.
Strength destroyed.
Lungs no longer buoyed.
Commanded to walk,
but unable to talk.
Endless despair,
sweat profuse from mangled hair.
God, I want to die,
But first I must be raised on high.

Carrying the cross
Endless weight, the race to be run.
All has been stripped away; I am finished – I am done.
Fallen – again, orders to a man to help me, to finish.
Thirst and hunger nothing compared to pain mothers do not wish;
everything fails – the hill too steep.
Suddenly upon it I long to weep.
Laid down to rest, a pull to the side, AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
AHHHHHHHHHHH! NO, PLEASE, STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Raised up for all to see. Naked. Can’t breathe. Father forgive them.
The know not what they do. Into your hands I submit my spirit.
It is finished.

Saturday
Just another day in the pits of hell.
Man it’s hot, and – oh! – the smell!
If I had ice, I’d surely sell,
but I’m out of here tomorrow; just as well.

Risen
Doors opened. Nothing remains. Not robbed, just… gone.
Vanished as promised, but forgetful followers weep needlessly.
Memories run short, fears rise, promises seem to disappear.
Old lives renewed, old habits not quite dead,
hearts that fail, three years of sweat and tears like smoke.
Taking flight the journeys lead them right back to him.
He is the one – the only one – the coming king,
the beginning and the end;
he who must be named to the gatekeeper for admittance.
He is the sacrificial lamb, whose pure blood lines were pure,
whose true heart was true,
whose loving spirit was love,
and whose life was for all but his own.
Risen as he promised he must be.
Risen as the prophets foretold.
Risen as God may not remain in any box.
He is risen.
Seek ye first his kingdom.
Honor and prostrate yourself before him and no other.
His judgment is fair and true and full of grace.
And he shall judge.
His blood was required.
And so it was paid.
The sacrifice.
In debt to him.
Gladly done, through unbearable pain.
He never lied.
He is risen indeed.

riding on the back of a motorcycle

Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle and shut your eyes? The feeling is so eerie - I was at the complete mercy of the driver's will. The wind and the sounds... I FELT the cars and other motorcycles around me. It is a silent helplessness that I can't quite describe, only somehow I think I feel it all the time when I travel. It's like I'm being led around sometimes into really cool adventures, but... it's still scary, you know?
But I just have to learn to trust the driver.