Cyrene was a city of 5000
situated on Africa's Northern tip
from there came a man called Simon
who was to be under God's sure grip
This Simon is named in three of the gospels
as the one who carried Jesus heavy load
compelled and seized to walk behind Jesus
carrying His cross along His Calvary road
Did Simon know what was to follow?
that this Jesus was going to die
His mind must have been in turmoil
but comforted even if asking why?
As Simon carried the cross of Jesus
so we, His disciples, must carry it too
following our Lord wherever He goes
standing true, looking to the Lord's view
Simon was indeed chosen of God
providentially to carry Christ's cross
play a real part in the Calvary story
without it, this would be our loss!
Your Word, O Lord, is loveliness.
Thus it is fitting that your Gospels
are clad in shining gold and silver
Made to gleam and impress and remind us
that your living wisdom is a treasure beyond all else.
Yet - fair and proper as it is -
I think of the humble, well-worn
simple and plain Bible of a saint
Tattered cover and crinkled pages
Borne through sweltering jungles
Stained by rain and sea and sun
And my heart burns at its beauty.
And even lovelier still is that
which I cannot see -
Your holy Word known so well by your saint
Imprinted upon their very heart.
2025-10-26
written ~1:50 PM
“Where They Bloom”
by Positive Mark
Phantoms are groomed where the black roses bloom.
Nights when you can’t find a dark enough room.
Feelings were hurt on all sides of the fence.
Thousands of wonderers left in suspense.
Masking true honesty.
Nurturing pride.
Luggage of falsehoods they pack for the ride.
Foreheads to eyelids to noses to chins.
Left handed hand shakes and satanic grins.
Gleaning from parables.
Chanting the psalms.
Jiggling the cheek ‘til it’s bruised by the palm.
Screeching of gospels surrounding a body that’s covered in flyers that reek of the party.
Black roses tossed out the window at night.
Dark enough room, now you search for the light.
Cyclical madness, but no one is taught.
Wars that are lost
when they’ve never been fought.
“Blood Baths”
by Positive Mark
It’s the battle hymn of the furious,
birthed and composed in the bold minds of the curious.
Blood baths are luxurious.
Trendsetters
carving out grooves for the bed wetters.
Howling at moons, sharpening spoons on their lead fetters.
It’s cold out front, and backlashes sting.
Desensitized by the gospels you sing.
You wail.
You admonish them to stop.
Old prayers sent to Heaven for a new cosmic slop.
Case files opened on a day of judgement.
Those who did it to ‘em, and all those who loved it.
Battle hymns are raised to release the spirit.
Aerosolized blood gets mixed in with the lyrics.
Why are you here?
What were you told?
Scare to die now, or scared to grow old?
Live for salvation or die for the loot?
Kneel for the reaper or shoot?
Shadow Waters
The water-bearer leans his urn silently,
pours starlight over forsaken streets
where neon lights flash their final confessions
and shattered promises accumulate like rain.
Here in the reverse trickle of time,
where advancement is lost in its own reflection,
the era turns in, searching for explanations
in dregs of what we believed we'd gained.
Electric prophets air hollow gospels
while the crowds scroll through ghost lives,
each contact another strand that entwines us
to this tapestry of lovely despair.
The constellation turns above, unchanging
those very stars that once held out liberty
now witness us tumble into the labyrinth
we built from our own radiant ideals.
In tower suites and lower-level clubs,
the children of the future sell their souls
to algorithms who recognize their secret names
and dole them out in morsels, afterwards.
Yet, still, the water flows, unceasing,
carrying seeds of something not yet born
perhaps redemption sleeps in darkness
of this shattered, brilliant age.
The carrier's face away from us,
sloshing the future drop by drop
while we stand dry in the flood,
suffocating in our own lighted shadows.
I'm singing to get a peace of mind
In due time, overtime, sometimes near bedtime
When all obstacles are trying to distract me
So that I cannot see the full blessings
I sing Gospels songs to relax me
Songs to Jesus above
Praises with many of Gospel songs
The atmosphere can get toxic at times
I know that I shall keep a peace of mind
My joy will not be removed
Nor disapproved.
"Through the Holy Gospel we are his messengers." Holy Gospels
He guides us to show others
With his love and understanding.
In each of us, He has only just begun.
I am a fledgling in His vast universe.
As an example of His love and caring
I will treat all as I would wish to be treated
The power of our Lord fills me with love.
His Son, The Lord Jesus Christ will be sent
To judge the living and the dead,
His Kingdom will have no end.
The Holy Trinity is all powerful
Those That believe, will have everlasting life.
Two thousand years is a drip in the ocean.
Our creator sent his only son to enrich us,
And forgive us of or sins, until he comes again.
God has only just begun this process
We will act accordingly to show others the way.
Until the world is saved by His Son returning
I saw God, I swear I did,
Was it a chimera or was I in luck?
Who knows? I was awestruck.
I looked again and He wasn’t there,
I closed my eyes and He was everywhere.
I rejoiced, embracing this connection,
It felt like a passage toward ascension.
I’ve surrendered to the scorch of vibrations
In my deepest being,
Cosmic gospels were piercing my Self;
Couldn’t understand a word,
But I could feel what it was said.
It was like magic, now you see Him,
Now you don’t.
Forgotten knowledge that now I knew,
Reminded me, that I was you.
I took a breath and I was shedding ego,
Fear and everything that dread.
A veil of understanding
Was lifting before my eyes.
It was God and me,
Playing hide and seek.
Glance within and have a peek.
poets, the evergreens,
their poems, the word
gospels that didn't make
the big book like
birds on overhead wires
accidentally perched
in the sequence of a
Beethoven symphony
but those words divine,
while I figure out grain
on half lit wooden floors
reduced, now, to poems
in pyjamas, oh my life,
delayed, enforcing other
immortalities
In ancient times, scholars did not agree,
On the order in which the gospels were written, you see?
Augustine thought it was Matthew, Mark, Luke and then John,
And his belief was widely accepted until Griesbach came along.
"Mark copied from Matthew and Luke," he more or less said,
But later scholars argued that Mark was the one who led.
Soon others posited the existence of someone called "Q,"
For it seemed there wasn't just one source, but two.
But this two-source theory would be challenged as well,
Did Q ever exist? They just couldn't tell.
A few scholars even applied a statistical technique,
But if a consensus exists, it remains rather weak.
My Lord is the single path in the sand
Heavy with my load
As I am broken and tired
And felt like I could no longer prevail
He is my Rock
My Strength
My Hope, My Salvation
He has guided me with wisdom
Spoken to me through the gospels
Shown me the way
The devil may try to lead me astray
But I will do as I’ve been told
as I sold my soul to him long ago
Published In My Book: Thoughts of the Confused and Heart broken (copyright 11/2023)
The Gospels
And other writings
Are narratives of
Life as seen
Through the lens of
Separation..
Includes the possibility
Of a new narrative
Of the empty nature
Of all appearances of
Separation...
It’s God has been gracious in Hebrew
with letters I have never drawn
My mom loved the Gospels’ application of being the beloved disciple
Jesus Favorite
My dad chose it because his grandfather
his truest father figure was named Juan
And he was Juan’s favorite
It’s a lot if I think about it, but Cabascango as a last name
Stands out more, sticks in the memory of those who can
Remember it
pronounce it
Correctly
John isn’t so dramatic as its meaning
At least not in English
Once In college I was accused of having
A boring first name
I guess you can’t be Jesus' favorite and everyone else’s
What Would Jesus Tweet?
By Mark D. Stucky
What if Jesus joined
social media sites?
Would he ask people
to Friend and Follow him?
Would they then tweet,
“Oh, how I Like Jesus”?
Would some Unfollow him
if he loved the marginalized
(as he did in the Gospels)?
Would he chastise churches
for lacking love and wisdom
(as he did in Revelation)?
Would he ever post,
“Dad, bless America”?
Would we be uneasy asking,
“What would Jesus tweet?”
(First published in Agape Review, 23 April 2022. See also my poem “Tweeting the Truth in Love.”)
(Image by Souvik Banerjee on Unsplash.com.)
All the Gospels have been written
and declared sacred
some are lost, others found
most are saying the same stuff
in a different story.
'I Am' said:
Enough already!
To quote an old text:
'Everybody's talking at me
but I don't hear a word their saying.
Stop telling tales to yourselves,
for only when you tell them
to Me - as Myself
will they be the Truth.
There are hundreds of bibles,
cling only to yourself, for I Am you.
'Go tell it on the mountain',
but tell it in silence."
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