Long Put to death Poems
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I was not sitting at a table in a police interrogation room. *
Nor was I seated in front of a judge in a courtroom.
It most resembled a hall of inquisition to eradicate
every trace of Biblical Christianity from the face of
the earth. Through the ages, there have been multiple
tactics and tools utilized to accomplish such a task.
Herein is simply the encounter that I personally experienced.
There I sat, surprisingly fearless I might add, eager to give
witness to 'the what and who of me' to a couple of inquisitors
assigned to ascertain my answers to their questions.
The Session:
He inquired about the reasons I believed it,
and I told him.
He asked me what I believed,
and I told him.
She asked how long I had believed it,
and I told her.
She asked when it was that I first believed it,
and I told her.
He asked where I was when I first believed it,
and I told him.
She questioned why I continued to believe it,
and I told her.
The session, being finished to their satisfaction, they said,
"You may go now". I was relieved that the session was over.
But in a flash, a strong sense of uneasiness swept over me,
whereupon I quickly requested their further attention. There
was something deep inside of me that I needed to say. With
questioning stares upon their faces, in unison they replied,
"You may proceed".
I said, "Sir, Mam. You inquired of the what of me but never
the who of me". Again, with a questioning stare, they looked
at me and then at each other. They then said in unison, "The who?"
"Sir, Mam", I said. The what, the how, the where, the when, and
the why. All of these answers to your questions are like vapors
in the wind if I never gave to you and the world, the who of me.
If the name of my who was never mentioned, this entire session
would surely be in vain". With high-pitched voices, in unison
they shouted, "By all means, do tell"!
Like the slow formation of clouds, tears began to form in my eyes
as I so humbly replied, "He was born of a virgin, put to death by
crucifixion, resurrected on the third day, and ascended into
heaven 40 days later. He is The Christ; I call Him Lord; He is
the who of me, and His name is Jesus". My two inquisitors were
speechless and in unison, pointed me to the door.
111022PS
*Fiction. On this early November morning between 2 and 3 AM,
this poem was born.
Slavery is not the end of atrocities
Suffered by minority communities
The every day systematic sway
Of bricks piled against you like
A wall of pain
So many bricks
The millions murdered for simply being
Who they were born to be black brown red
But of these I speak of what I know firsthand
The professional personal political assassination
of the collective black character is so deep
It is astonishing ingrained and denied to be a thing
For instance because there was a black president
In this racist country people say there you have equality
Nope
A system built on the back of blacks
That promotes hate of anything black
Saving a few teachers pets
Does not save the souls of those
Still being oppressed stressed and put to death
Schools are the battleground as well
We are not even teaching the truth freely
Jim Crow is alive and well look it up
The systems of government are used and abused
To keep people from getting the American Dream
The poor displaced and disgraced
Taxed to the max
While the rich enjoy perks less tax relax
When I walk in a store I am sized up and categorized
followed by security I may get service
But only if I look affluent enough and
Sometimes not even then
Depending on the store and area
When my brother walks down the street
Do you clutch your purse
No really
If he doesn’t style himself just so
Is he perceived as less than
When he goes to the bank for a loan
How often will he be denied
Or unfairly penalized
It’s deeper than slavery
We are still here suffering despite being
Called American we are treated
Not even as well as foreigners
Who seek asylum
Where is that for the brown red black people
It’s not being able to fairly compete for jobs
When corporate snobs want degrees and experience
But how do you get one before the other
When you don’t qualify for loans
Or go in so much debt for college
That the dream is deferred
Or you get the job but the pay
Is poor because you can’t afford the degree
Never mind you are doing the job perfectly
So you must get multiple jobs to eat
I’m so sick of saying that marginalized
Systematic racism in America is more than what happened then it is what is happening today now
And by the looks of it what the future holds
As the systems of old have not been replaced!
I want to walk without looking over my shoulder.
I want to eat without looking over my shoulder.
I want to drive without looking over my shoulder.
For, when I look over my shoulder.
My first reflection is the trembling I have when I see a deputy.
My first inquiry.
Will the officer think my cell phone is a gun?
Will the civil servant judge me while I am eating a simple meal?
Will the badge pull me over for looking suspicious?
Will I have to go on social media to safeguard my human race?
Let the universe know my every footstep.
For privacy went out the door when they pull the trigger on my brother fourteen times in the back in front of the coffee shop.
For privacy went out the door when they put a chokehold on my brother for selling cigarettes.
Killing him on the sidewalk.
For privacy went out the door when my brother has his hands up and a minimum of six shots.
Took his life!
For privacy went out the door when my sister was only seven when her soul was taken in her sleep over a raid.
For privacy went out the door when bluecoat killed my brother over a busted taillight.
Killed in front of his four-year-old daughter.
For privacy went out the door when my brother only twelve couldn’t play outside with his toy gun.
Why?
They did what they do best.
They murder him!
For privacy went out the door when my sister was pulled over for a minor traffic violation and later hung in her jail cell.
For privacy went out the door when my young sister was put to death for a warrant ten miles away from her home.
For privacy went out the door when my brother was slaughter.
With a knee on his neck.
Screaming (I can’t breathe)!
While other cops watched for 8:46.
For privacy went out the door when my people are being hung in the tree.
Like my ancestor!
For privacy went out the door when I had to learn
I was not walking anymore.
I was marching.
I had to master my footsteps.
I needed to make sure my freedom was first.
Everywhere I went my security was first.
Running from the police without seeing the police.
Where the footsteps I was waking now!
Little strange things, like more concurrent truths
Between science and religion, but picking one
Closes off the truth saught, instead pride filled
arguments
About who has the most relevance in the idea
given to them based on perceptions of other men.
Maybe you've heard that under united syllabus
Only 12 types of vision can be created
And you can be positive are negative in each
Is that bipolor, sorry adhd
So you have 12 ways you have to perceive
Before a truth is held reasonable by all.
The only way to avoid rebellious pride
Is to have one of all personalities
Hear, understand and share their inceptions
Onto all You may see., but negative
Is ever present so 1 out of 12 may turn and kill you
The ones who were always listened too
Are ones that fit none of these men who
Learned lessons, not by those who would teach
All were betrayed, put to death for endangering
The heiarchy of the time.and now they are
Discredit by mental illness and prescribed pills
That can erase the mind to be rebuilt by thearopy
So except all you read, be kind and bless ones in need
Sit in the middle of the ones who believe You
Enjoy a meal, speak honestly and realize
That any supper could be your last
And all but one kind of men can be bought
And you could die at hand of friend.
12 apostles, 12 ways of learned routes of reason
The first organization of religion is a con in time
And all based from that are perception of a truth
That was also censored and based on lie
All evil are power is given not earned
Before united education and truths
By kings and cowards burned
Before access to all opion by way of TV
The mind of man was capable of amazing things
That we still appreciate and in the same breath
its lessons slip away,
The calendar of the miyans made took
The ability of thinking past one life span
Why could things of present day
Be predicted by men of yesterday
Because a plan put in motion by many men
To assure their descendents have power one day
Every reasonable man can see were this leads
Others agree and fight to be the pedigree
Of the coming eternity, one just disappeared
After learning the cycle beginning to end
I will continue this scroll of those who read ask I do so
Form:
An ideal state?
The brazen blare of trumpets sounds.
As we approach the temple grounds
the rattling kettle drums compete
with ominously marching feet.
The people gather here today
in the old time honoured way.
To hear our leaders justify
why they have failed to satisfy.
The peoples wants, the peoples needs.
Explain their actions and their deeds
The leaders have no other choice
but hearken to the peoples voice.
If they have failed without just cause.
The peoples justice will enforce
summary execution.
A permanent solution.
For politicians who have lied
by all their fellows they are tried.
Allowed to mount their own defence
they must depend on eloquence.
We listen to their argument
and we consider their intent.
Their motives are what we must judge
This is no time for them to fudge.
They ruled as triumvirate
and so they must anticipate.
If one is guilty then all three
Will suffer the same penalty.
If we adjudge them innocent
by a unanimous consent.
They can retire honourably
having served us honestly.
We the people make the rules
elect the leaders as our tools.
To do as we instruct them to
They do not rule the peopled do.
If we decide they are corrupt.
The peoples anger will erupt.
For them there can be no appeal
it was their choice to cheat and steal.
An object lesson plain to see
for those who aspire to be.
Part of the next triumvirate
Chosen to serve our city state.
Ours is a true democracy
where every citizen is free.
To stand for office or refrain.
Those who have served may serve again.
But every two years they must face
the peoples judgement of their case.
Honest men need have no fear
dishonest men just disappear.
Stripped of all their ill gotten wealth
which they aquired by craft and stealth.
They pay the final penalty
they’re put to death immediately.
The peoples will is sovereign
Offenders will not sin again
This is a dream I’m sad to say
and not true of our world today.
Today our world is ruled by greed.
Use any method to succeed.
rewarded for dishonesty.
The people pay the penalty.
19-Oct-07
.
On a Good Friday at 3PM
He was called into the office by
Pontius Pilate and told that he would be put to death.
He had waited for the execution and worked the full week after being
warned that he would be fired if his production and sales were not
up to snuff.
He was hired with four other wise men and women to
turn an upstart company around and save it from the greedy bankers.
He had hope in his heart because he left employment with another and thought it
would be fruitful on the other side.
Pontius Pilate had wooed him with big money and promised him the stars.
Just about everyone loved their products and it would be an easy sale like
children pitching low-hanging fruit from a tree.
But after one month Pontius Pilate changed her course and said that the
Honeymoon was over. One among their ranks had told him that he was their hero
and would emulate him and dress like him. But he knew that this female Judas
would betray him when he dreamed that she would fall from his favor.
Judas was from the professional teaching world and she said that she was in adequate working in sales. She would call sales meeting to learn their motives and work late and holidays in the office while bending the ear of Pontius Pilate.
Pontius Pilate believed everything said to her because Judas was producing sales
but stealing fruit from the others. This did not matter to Pontius Pilate as her
golden calf and state of affairs was being threatened by the Jesus lovers.
On the advice of Judas- Pontius Pilate set her plans into motion and publicly
falsely accused the three wise men
of being bad sales people and spoke of
their elimination. They were accused three times on three separate days before
3 PM.
Like strange fruit he was called into the office by Pontius Pilate and her political
advisor Menenius and duly told that this is not personal but he must die. The one
sacrificed did not have much to say but thanked them for the opportunity and
that he will rise up in three days.
"I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.
On my side of the hemisphere, Old Man Winter begins in December
and meanders through the earth with cold, ice, and snow. With ice-
laced winds, he lashes against my skin, and no one calls it a sin.
He renders the soil under my feet hard as a rock against whom
my socks have no defense. That's why I like September. She
neither burns not freezes, but with a tender stroke, she pleases me.
Spring is mostly nice as she melts the ice along with her bursting force
with new life, resurrecting things long put to death by Winter's sword.
The sound of 'April' is a charm with the melodic tunes of a song that's
arresting and captivating. She's sometimes a teaser though, setting you
up for a windy ride. She may even swallow you in a flood or blow you
away in a tornado. But by and large, she serves the planet well. All the
same though, I like September who doesn't tease but pleases me well.
And oh, the joys of summer are endless. The wedding bells of June;
the show and tells of vacations to distant places. Some like it hot,
lying on their cots and bathing in the sun. Others like being soothed
by the cool beaches and back yard pools. But be warned of the pain
and rain from hurricanes. And be prepared to endure the smoke filled
skies from the heavy flames of wild fires. There's just no comparison
to Sweet September with her savory treats of tranquilities to remember.
I anticipate the golden trees just before they shed their autumn leaves.
September charms me with musical chimes on mild Autumn nights.
The choice is mine, and it's a happy time when September arrives.
091621PS
Did Jesus Exist?
Some say 2000 years ago,
A man called Jesus walked about;
But I say, not as god or indigo,
But as a medical doctor stout.
Jesus was an Israeli name then,
And there maybe was one man found,
Of that name, with a doctor’s ben,
Who knew the poor, who did abound.
And I say that big occasions grand,
Make for good sex, for mind focus,
So Mary and Joseph had their hand,
On the country’s population census.
Something happened like on Star Trek,
When Jim Kirk was born light speed;
All nature and the stars fused in spec,
When the pair felt no frown or creed.
This would’ve produced a bright one,
A real whacker and the perfect child,
And so I believe Jesus existed, a son,
Like some say he did and so tiled.
I believe he set a stealthy example,
For other doctors who were for the rich,
Who became followers of Jesus, ample,
Endeavouring the Roman gov to stitch.
A doctor’s job is within legislation,
Within the people’s thinking sphere,
Not without the gov’s validation,
Not out with the majority’s ear.
So I think a man called Jesus Christ,
Was put to death by the people,
Ignored by the government, heist,
But loved by a few friends, his steeple.
But he was taken on by many brothers,
By the profession, medical and strong,
By Luke who had rich men as forevers,
Because he treated their kids, belong.
He tore society’s norm gown in two,
Right down the middle plateauxed;
Luke said no to his old way to go,
Suffered barrelled rejection foretold.
Luke was key in Jesus’ career and legacy,
Determined his acceptance, full or part,
Such that Jesus was thought no fallacy,
To be accepted with all your full heart.
This only meant something to his work,
Not to god or divinity transcendent,
But because in temples he did lurk,
So healings were upon god dependent.
There may be no historical documents,
Out with his friends witness reports,
But I am content that the populous,
Was treated medically, had no retorts.
Again and again. I struggle with my heart, as I feel the pain in the letters of your name being
said, but still I live on with the shattered memories of union we had. A love we once shared
that no longer exist. A love which is now dead. I hear the sound of your car coming down the
street I run to the window only to see you drive by my house as if you didn't know me or,
anyone who lived here. The engine in your car it hums a sad song as I watch your tail lights
start to fade and your car drive away it breaks my fragile, spotted heart as the sound blows
past my ears and settles into my head.
I've died daily again to a curse that still lives as a disease inside me. I cannot forget you or
the times that we had or the promises that we made, how we shared dreams. Just the thought
of you makes me cringe as goose pimples begin to erode from my skin. I rub my arms to
make them go away but, I get stuck in a flash of your cold pale face then I'm then lost to this
horrible game being played and the state of mind, I was left in. The Shattered memories of a
love lived, I regret. These memories are stocked on the shelves in my head, from your face
to the clothes you wore, and every thing you ever said. I'm left with my soul shattered and
in shock. I blink my eye's feverishly to clear my mind then I pause for a moment as the
picture comes in. Then your face flashes at the end of, the park bench. A veil
numbness draws forth, a moment of silence as nothing is said, I drift into the vein corridors
of, my brain. Recalling, a time when I, was nearly driven to the edge of insane. The
memories of our existance together are kept locked away, buried in a graveyard of window
displays. A Place where one might see them and then would say, These shattered memories
like windows of regret are a love I once had but now I regret. With every good memory I
have of our life spent, I have a thousand bad memories left to put to death.
THE CROSS
I fold my arms and close my eyes,
I picture a cross so tall.
Mary His Mother
And Mary His disciple
Crying below, at His feet.
Blood running down the wood.
Finally resting on the ground
Soaked up by the desert soil.
Mary His Mother, crying for her Son
Mary Magdalene, crying for her Lord.
Why have they done this, my heart breaks
Roman soldiers so cruel.
One with a spear as he says
“no don’t break His legs,
spear Him instead”.
My soul crys out
“Lord have mercy lest I fall”
“Take me like the thief, to your banqueting hall!”
Jesus I give you my all,
My soul, my heart, my body.
By Maxie Macdonald
Luke 23:32-43, (NAS95) 32 Two others also, who were criminals, were being led away to be put to death with Him. 33 When they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. 34 But Jesus was saying, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves. 35 And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were sneering at Him, saying, "He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One." 36 The soldiers also mocked Him, coming up to Him, offering Him sour wine, 37 and saying, "If You are the King of the Jews, save Yourself!" 38 Now there was also an inscription above Him, "THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS." 39 One of the criminals who were hanged there was hurling abuse at Him, saying, "Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!" 40 But the other answered, and rebuking him said, "Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 "And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong." 42 And he was saying, "Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!" 43 And He said to him, "Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise."