Friday, April 10, 2009

Good Friday


The streets are crowded with pointed fingers,

open windows, scornful sneers

self-righteousness breathing past every

curtain sheer



Heads tossed back, noses high, 

lips are tightly curled and wry

Eyes are squinted, scornful, wild,

darting, dancing like a lusty fire



Under shade of shadow, 

dark and night

my heart is pounding, racing, aching, 

slipping hastily out of sight



Endless are the alleys- cursed this

wretched winding maze

No safe place for me – no where to 

escape their dreadful, daunting gaze



Down and down,

 swept out through the city gates

by their stinging jeers, “how dare you

stain our Holy place.”



One against a vast universe

One in an endless void

One roaming in a haunted silence

thoughts scoring a reckless noise

One tired of straining, reaching out 

for something to hold

awkwardly stumbling through this

blackened cold



Ascending rough and jagged 

steep incline

Hope for friendly years long poured out

like bitter wine


Shameful memories taunt,

painful pictures flash

as knees against these craggy rocks 

are dashed



The climb is over as the ruthless sun

begins its rule

breathless I stare at the city 

set and shimmering like a jewel



How fair and admirable you seem

taken at a far off glance

With veil of masked perfection, silence, and 

denial, you weave a master dance



But underneath the lying silken cover

lurks controlling, condemning an 

unappeasable, moody lover



How I strived to curt you, 

paying much too dear a cost

I played my hand at your game 

but like a fool have lost



And now from limb and geist 

Have gone the fight

And fitful, tardy sleep relieves 

this early hour of its deceitful sight



All at once my every sinew, 

muscle bound

wrenched from rest by a 

nightmarish sound 

The sharp and blood-thirsty cracking 

of a whip

mean and menacing shouts 

from a battery of mocking lips

fueled to a frenzy by their 

righteous cause

slandering the heretic

for breaking their laws


Fear fraught and horror stricken

I lie low and frozen to the ground

Panic struck and heart sickened

to have so soon been found


Cringing, shrinking, wishing every past wrong 

would disappear

all the while the shouting mob

draws near


Knowing all is lost

I hold my breath and wait

for the scourging blow

the culmination of their hate




But what is this?

One man alone so bold

stands with outstretched arms

to bid this band of fury hold?



And what such a man is he?

My wet and wishful eyes can barely see

this foolish act which may 

yet set me free


Beyond belief he stands exposed

and stays an army in its path

Suspending comprehension,

he remains composed 

as he consumes their awful wrath



Bruised and battered his skin in tatters

and soaked in blood red

Taunted and tired his honor mired

 a cruel and caustic crown upon his head


Solemn and sober he endures

their morbid glee

Sovereign and serene as they 

nail him to a tree


 Such noble assembly

does not stop to rest

they hurl their insults and abuse

they jeer and jest

hang a wooden sign 

as a last assault

 King of The Jews

they credit to his  fault


But naked outstretched limbs

withstand the fury of disgrace

and low and tortured whisper

   commands his final case. 

Arms open wide

 invite an enemy’s embrace

as stolen breath

 requites this ignorant, lynching mob

 with amazing grace,



Winding back up through 

the city’s malevolent maze

I will never forget the tears,

 the blood, his benevolent gaze


Love has subdued hate, 

subverted violence, swallowed shame

and needing no one’s permission

I am free to do the same



1 comment:

Mark D. Taylor said...

Thank you, Lee. It's a beautiful poem that evokes the horror and the wonder of Good Friday.
Love,
Mark