Best Scourged Poems
Friday, three days prior;
The Son was scourged and bleeding.
Sunday, when He rose again-
A spotless Lamb proceeded.
Friday, three days prior;
The Son had cried: “forsaken?”
Sunday, when He rose again-
The keys of hell were taken.
Friday, three days prior;
The Son of God was dead.
Sunday, when He rose again-
Trembling demons fled.
Friday, three days prior;
The Son was laid to rest.
Sunday, when He rose again-
He bore a Royal Crest.
Friday, three days prior;
The Son was in a tomb.
Sunday, when He rose again-
The Rose of Sharon bloomed.
Friday, three days prior;
The Son was set in stone.
Sunday, when He rose again-
He claimed His rightful throne.
Nirveda (sansk.) - aversion to existence
"The existent there is no cessation". Bhagavat Gita, 2.16
Addicted to existence, I may slain
or, maybe, they may slain me. I may die
a hero or, unknown, die in vain.
I may live righteously, I may abstain
from sins like Abel. Or, vice versa, I
may overstep the laws of God like Cain.
None of that matters! Destined to exist,
scourged by two demons, life and death, I plea
for non-being, nothingness, for sweetest tryst
with dreamless dream. Oh, woe is me! Deceased
or full of hateful life, I have to be
until I understand the very gist
of cruel, God knows whom invented notion
that long drained streams must flow into the ocean.
aba, aba, bcb, bcb, dd. I have no idea what this form is called. If not called yet, I hereby anoint you a Terzonnet)
amid scurrying feet,
in the whirling humanity,
with divided aims,
and sizzling brains,
she paused with singularity of purpose.
never in a hurry, more at peace,
on a park bench, alone,
bent and weird, she sat.
when she moved,
her bones creaked,
on rusty hinges!
ragged in dress, torn in body,
face scourged by Time,
its contours deep like ravines.
her withered breasts,
hanging like nests of tailor birds.
hair lying disheveled,
with eyes shrouded in mist,
she looked out into the sinking sun,
never dreading the darkness that falls.
the park bench was her temporary halt.
she sat there every evening
determined to live on,
with the coins habitually dropped,
into her outstretched hands,
by those sailing past her,
unobtrusive self.
like a monument of patience
she sat.
sat, so alone!
~ First Place Trophy Win~
Dec.16.2022
Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest. No.55
Born into this world as a humble, helpless Babe
Christ increased in wisdom and stature
Grew up in favour with both God and man
Baptised publicly by John the Baptist
Tempted by the devil, but overcame him
Preached the gospel of the kingdom of God
Befriended the publicans and the sinners
Turned the water into wine, did miracles
Cast out demons, healed all kinds of diseases
Backed up twelve fishermen as His disciples
Taught them, led them, and washed their feet
Spent three and a half years moulding them
Broken, He prayed in the garden of Gethsemane
His sweat as blood, such spiritual agony
Ready to do the will of God and drink the cup
Beaten and scourged on the way to Calvary
A crown of thorns placed upon His head
Spat upon, mocked, and smote by the soldiers
Bruised, He was crucified on the cruel Cross
He hung there with no form nor comeliness
Reviled by passers-by wagging their heads
Bereft and forsaken by His own Father
Carrying the sins of the entire world
He suffered and bled, but forgave and loved
Beseeching His Heavenly Father to receive His Spirit
Lord Jesus Christ gave up his ghost on the Cross
And the veil of the temple was torn from top to bottom
Buried in a new rock sepulchre, the stone was rolled
The tomb was sealed and the watch was set
But on the third day, as prophesied, our Lord rose up
Behold, there was a great earthquake
The angel of the Lord descended from heaven
And rolled back the stone and sat upon it
Bewildered, the women heard him saying,
“Fear not, ye seek Jesus who was crucified,
He is not here, for He is risen, come see where they laid Him”
Brutal death could not chain our Lord,
He overcame it and appeared to His disciples
And was carried up into heaven
Believe on the Lord Jesus, He was crucified for our sins,
But He resurrected from the dead, never to die again
Now He sits on the right hand of God, interceding for our sins
Beloved, He will come back one day
Not as the Lamb, but as the Lion
To take His loved ones unto Himself
Before it is too late, accept Him into your heart
You will enjoy peace, love and joy, which this world can’t offer
Repent, believe and rejoice for the Lord Jesus Christ is alive.
9th April, 2022
For Regina McIntosh's "Easter" contest
I thought for a moment that
he never felt the PAINS,
When he beared the
burden of our guilts and
STAINS.
You can't imagine what he
went THROUGH,
for him to wipe away all of
our sins THROUGH.
You can't imagine the
whole of the SHAME,
when he left all his fortunes
and FAME.
His head was punctured by
THORNS,
and his body was tortured
untill his cloth was TORN.
They put the nail throught
his hands and FEET,
even as his imaculate and
pure heart BEAT.
He cried out all of tears
from his EYES,
untill his eyes were as dry
as ICE.
They piassed his palm to
the STAKE,
For all of human SAKE.
He didn't have to do it, but
he did it ANYWAY,
for us to change from our
evil WAYS.
He really love us so much
that he took our PLACE,
In sacrificing himself for the
whole of human RACE.
He died for our sins as if
he's the ONE,
in expense of our freedom
cos he WON.
He was humilated in front
of MANY,
And as dejected by MANY.
They gave him the heavy
cross to CARRY,
with so much hatred and
MOCKERY.
He was whipped and
scourged so HARD,
that his screems can be
heard from 10 YARDS.
The stood there at calvary
and watch him DIE,
After all the false
accusations and LIES.
Even when he screemed '
IT IS FINISHED',
The whole world knew that
' IT WAS FINISHED '.
His blood paid that great
price for our SINS,
For us to be free from our
guilt and SINS.
He died bearing the burden
of our INIQUITY,
for the betterment of the
world and all HUMANITY.
It wasn't easy for him to do
IT,
But at d end, it was worth
IT.
I walk the lane 'neath giant oaks,
vast canopies of green,
and view the mansion at path's end,
a sight I've never seen.
My mind begins to picture
those precious days of old,
the owner of this grand house
with history yet foretold.
Of Southern Belles in ball gowns,
young men in dapper dress,
music of the harpsichord
as folks poseur their best.
Dancing, singing, merriment
revere lives without care
as servants carry laden trays
of fancy food and fare.
But all the glories of this time
were soon to be forgot
with civil war uprisings,
and horrors that men wrought.
Land was scourged, mansions burned,
or plundered of their ware,
soldiers stripped the wealth from them
and pillaged without care.
"The black man needs his freedom,"
was the battle cry,
and thousands chose to take a side
for which they'd surely die.
Brother fought 'gainst brother,
father against son,
I wonder if they felt for naught
when the war was done.
Now standing 'neath the foliage
at this mansion tall and grand,
I question, "Was it worth it,
for them to take a stand?"
Guess we'll never know the answer,
today it seems too late,
but let us long remember
what happens when men hate.
As Our Blessed Lady appeared holding Her Divine Son in Her arms
you will leave this state of pain she said in 3 days
In forty days you will leave this state
that she serves a higher purpose Divine
such was the news her heart
it began skipping faster inside joy
Her Lady Mary said to her
you 're the light of all stars hope is your virtue
Smiling the sun for you
as I myself am called Aurora,Star
the moon in her gentle fullness
and the brightness of the golden sun
Now nature will always bow down meek, and very humble
to our Masters voice
Assets it law
in the final moment of combat
Grace will come to lend you it's force
and your angel who is also mine
Gabriel the name expresses strength
will come to your aid in the time of need
you Princess are beloved among my children
It was then the prison filled up with a Heavenly celestial perfume
Her virtues she was bent on keeping
a public chastisement to offend her virtues
Then condemned stripped and scourged
like the spouse Our Lord preferred
Horrifying what they done to her
such are the faces of shame
The prison guards hesitated to unclothe her entirely
they proceeded to tie her to a column
in the presence off, a full court of men
Where they all lashed her with so much violence
until the floor was soaked and herself bathed in blood
Her whole body was an open wound now she fainted
they dragged her back to the dungeon cells to die
Two angels appeared and they began shining their light
inside the dark cell they embalmed her wounds
In the sweetest light of Heavenly oil
one off eternal life and salvation
her strength in His love she grew stronger for living
The emperor viewed her with greedy desire and lust filled eyes
he tried everything he had in his power to impress her
It was when he exhausted every means know to him
Talking about Jupiter
offering her the position of empress of Rome
using seductive words in every manner
blessing her with great honor
to be continued such a story just blew my mind in loves grace
Who killed Christ the Lord?
It was not me said Herod, I did not spill his blood.
I tried to kill him once it’s true
but he was a baby then and was not slew
Who killed Christ the Lord?
Nay, not I said Caiaphas, it was not one of us.
Verily I say it was not by my hand
but by some higher greater command
Who killed Christ the Lord?
I did not do it said Judas, I did not kill the Lord Jesus.
Yes, I betrayed him with a kiss
and in shame condemned myself for this
Who killed Christ the Lord?
Not me said faithful Peter, I am my brother’s keeper.
Upon his head they put a price
and I, like a coward, denied him thrice
Who killed Christ the Lord?
Not us said the pharisees but ruled he be seized.
For his faith, his power and glory
alas they came for him at Gethsemane
Who killed Christ the Lord?
Not us said the baying mob, his life we did not rob.
‘Twas the Governor of Judea whose
decree was death to the King of the Jews
Who killed Christ the Lord?
Do not blame me said Pilate, the law he did defile it.
But it was I whose cold fateful breath
ordered he be scourged and put to death
Who killed Christ the Lord?
That great sacrifice of the Passion of the Christ!
Who for our sins in God’s holy plan
suffered the Son of God and Son of Man
Written: April 2025
Wrathful tears ripen shame
and sows conscience-stricken seeds of self-loathing.
Scourged by the storm’s desolate dirge
this flimsy canopy offers no protection
as the wind-driven rain rides roughshod over me.
Susan Ashley
April 9, 2019
Blood stained wood and broken souls
blistered skin on burning coals,
blinding sunshine in your face
and no-one sang Amazing Grace.
Shadow of the cross that falls
upon your crumbling holy walls,
casts only darkness in your eye
for you can never answer why.
In righteousness you seek to be
the magistrate of all you see,
but who will judge the magistrate
who stands before his golden gate?
Scourged with mercy, joyous pain
lets you be yourself again,
screaming at the smiling crowd
casting dice to win your shroud.
Your perfect peace is agonized
and flawless faith is just disguised,
to keep your word in all you said
your unheard promise to the dead.
His message to Mankind was divine love, much louder than
the desert wind hissing through the tall palm trees;
they heard Him, but sadly contempt built up when
they defiled the Temple by selling and trading instead of praying on their knees...
so Jesus got the whip and the lame and the blind cried out the word, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Christ was the faithful servant who was scourged, derided and crucified,
now, is the friend of all who believe in Him, not in a sinful world....
the Redeemer who carried the heavy cross to Calvary and died;
His resurrection was a victory over death making Him the eternal Lord!
Who besides Him is more worthy of God His Father, are we?
Anytime Jesus prayed, He finished that prayer with this holy word, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Nothing has changed...it was an unjust and mean world, and so it will be;
they lived for lust, power and money getting greedier than Judas who chose death;
find that good soul that resembles Jesus...is it that poor man who seeks mercy?
We can gather much gold, make him a crown and place it on his bruised head!
And while he sits there waiting for compassion, his feeble voice proclaims," Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
All nations strive for supremacy, making useless and massive weapons so destructive,
they have no love for their neighbors...they hate peace and every beautiful place;
we have made it to this century...will others see a tomorrow not dark and delusive?
Pray like Jesus did and put your fate in the hands of the Almighty who's grace!
No joy or possession is greater than faith...get up, look up and shout, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
All wars scourged bodies and souls--
Torn spirits and dredged feet of the fowls
Ravished by rabid gargoyles of prey
Scuppered dreams of the reapers of hay
Wars circled the world of May
'tis emblem are ruins and remnants of flay
Wars for peace can be penned on paper
Words and spikes of chivalry of the bleeder
Ink flowing out are veins of the fighter
Scrawled blood purged from the might of the writer
I'm a briny whore
wit' reekin' drawers
me honor ter make yer acquenchance
th' skipper's maid
me port's decayed
one doubloon, yer seafarin' urchin?
Yer scurvy rat
a-crawl wit' gnat
orf seadog scourged wit' rabid
yer cannon's immense
'tis cocked 'n tense
yer cutlass be yearnin' me scabbard
Yer stench o' sewer
me bits'll chew yer
bumps 'n boils 'n rottin' flesh
yer britches singe
yer helm unhinge
ter boot yer hornpipe thump 'n thresh
2013-11-20
Thy gaze; like those Persian spears full in flight,
Thrust 'n us to see the tales in those brown eyes -
Shimmers, like powdered silver beneath sunlight
Are the paragraphs and verses of her life.
Joyous to behold, yet more than I can praise,
Alike a constellation within one’s face.
Did part of the universe fall down to earth?
To wield breath as whom I behold in your-self?
Or are you instead our Creator’s template -
That left the heavens and on earth found a place?
The seeming absence of everyone so,
In every moment that your eyes to me would throw -
Those Persian spears great in their flight and craft
To stir this bloke who like so had loved a lass.
Like so had loved, like so started with a craze,
Alas, from whence died down after each day,
Until all that lay left was me in fetters
Soul and body, so was scourged who let her.
I would pretermit this ardour at all costs
For my mind (impaired) had offered but one choice.
You’re beautiful still, still more than I can praise
But ‘bout your fervour, please look another way.
Between soft brush of breeze and shower spray of sunshine
Between bubbly blooms of bulbs to nectarine nibbles blast
Between chanting chirps of birds to orchestrated strums and thumps
Between the struggle of knowing less and knowing more
Between tricky tempestuous trial train to bottle breaking battle birth
Between these to selfless sacrifice, He painted all free out of His love
King of all kings yet born humble lain in a manger
King of all kings yet dressed in the simplest clothe
King of all kings yet regardless of who, He walk through
King of all kings yet questioned, mocked and scourged
King of all kings yet excruciatingly trampled down
King of all kings, darling of Heavens,they slain as a ransom to mankind's sin
Holy made known by His conception from a Virgin
Holy made known through His baptism of blood and fire
Holy made known with His miracles: water into wine;healing paralytic; raising the dead
Holy made known by His Living Words written in truth and spirit
Holy made known through the works of His disciples
Holy, Your Amazing grace, a warm womb of bearing embrace
Today and always, a call to Your name a rainbow blessing shout
Today and always, You are our silent invisible brother and friend
Today and always, Your example our primal everlasting guide to life
Today and always, You are our way, the truth and our glowing light
Today and always, You are our most faithful and gentle rescuer
Today and always, where will I be without you in my life?
(c) Olive Eloisa
11:22pm
September 29. 2014
***Inspired by:
Revelation 17:14
"These will wage war against the Lamb, and the Lamb will overcome them, because He is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those who are with Him are the called and chosen and faithful."
Sponsor Verlena S. Walker
Contest Name HOLY IS THE LAMB...
first. to God is the highest glory and honor.