No star. No light. No candle burns.
The heart, once warm, is cold and still.
To rock, to lifeless stone it turns —
A tomb, shut fast, in night as chill.
And in that tomb, so cold, so bare,
Lies Love made flesh, and crucified.
No breath. No voice. No answer there.
The world stood dark the hour He died.
Then Joseph came, a secret friend,
And begged the Body, cold as clay;
He wrapped his Lord, and knelt to tend
The wounds, in grief and in dismay.
There Christ lay on the stone, alone
His journey through the world was done;
No warmth was left in flesh or bone;
The earth cried out beneath the sun.
No grief had ever pierced so sore,
No heart had ever bowed its head —
The dark that day was dark far more
Than any dark before the dead.
Yet lower still His spirit came,
Down to the deep, where dead men lay,
And broke the bonds of ancient shame
That held our father, bound for aye.
Far in the east, a light was born —
Not warm, not gold, but cold and thin;
No man yet knew, that fearful morn,
If Life could ever wake within.
Must be off there is a tomb
Most of what remains of whom
Much loved by me so still lies
My heart with her slowly dies
Must be off to earthy throne
Making sure she's not alone
Mourn us both for we have gone
In his time of deepest gloom
Job wished he’d gone from womb to tomb.
Please let me die was his lament
when in pain, he started to vent.
Oh, how I wish that I could die
In agony, poor Job did cry.
Our lives, bordered by birth and death
with troubles filled, till final breath.
Whether three score, or four they be,
the time assigned to me and thee,
they’re so much like a tale that’s told
We’re scarcely born ere we are old.
The dash between the womb and tomb
is like flowers in blushing bloom.
In the morning and through the day,
what wondrous beauty they display.
Then, as the sun sets in the sky,
they wilt and fade, and then they die.
Teach us, O Lord, to count our days,
and to please you in all our ways.
May our lives, like the sun, bless,
those we encounter in the press,
and may our days, all pleasing be,
as fragrant offerings to Thee.
Sometimes regret holds me like my first love
So when true love crossroads
I can never picture a cross that rose
For me
I need to fast more
But my pedal only hits the floor
For the wrong doors
Then my knees hit the bottom
Repentance cycles
Feeling like a hamster but
I'm learning to let Jesus take the wheel
Thy kingdom come thy will be done
Sometimes shame is the only one,
that holds me right
His arms still stretched but
I rather stretch the truth
Like you didn't bleed red letters
I keep trying to blot grace
As if I could ever stop the bleeding of sin
As if you didn't see my imperfections and hug them
The tomb isn’t evidence of death but
The seed of hope
Make sure you have a hunger for God
It will bless your spirit
Your spirit feeds the mind
The mind feeds the body
So I will fill my temple with Proverbs
That poem a path for life
A perfect love kissing imperfection
Then when I look in the mirror
I will see transformation from glory to glory
A reflection of the resurrection
He got up so I know nothing can hold me down
Life never gets any easier but there is one who overcame the world
p.s. do you know Him…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
soft dawn unseals the stone
light drifts from Jesus’ tomb~
the veil between worlds quivers.
Your breath, older than the stars,
moves through the still air.
we rise in the hush of Your name~
grace gathers the world to light
One man atop Golgotha's hill
He was crucified for all to see
His blood the cost to pay the bill
So that you and I could be free
He was crucified for all to see
Because they thought that He had lost
So that you and I could be free
He paid sins price it was the cost
Because they thought He had lost
They could not see the victory
He paid sins price it was the cost
Three days in tomb is all there'd be
They could not see the victory
Though it was written long ago
Three days in tomb is all there be
Then from the grave alive He'd go
Though it was written long ago
His blood the cost to pay the bill
Then from the grave alive He'd go
One man atop Golgotha's hill
Howling at full moons
behind empty branches
in full view of empty tombs
of ancestors in full bloom
Slide your elflocks to the side
while I feed eldritch butterflies
the honey wine that made man divine,
lei guardato il gattopardo’s disguise
*
Rapt cranberry wrapping callipygian peaches,
entrancing crenellations, pergola features
I couldn’t leave you, my favorite weakness
When magenta sunsets broke
across your cello silhouette,
you signed your life to me
The darkness of the empty room
Conducive with a somber tomb
The eeriness of silence falls
Along the lonely, ghostly halls
A sense of cold within the air
A shiver causes rising hair
The beckoning of light within
Calls me closer to the sin
Holds me here, where horror lives
Reckoning time; no one forgives
Suddenly, a vapid, rainy chill
Gives rise to woodsy fungal growth.
Make a potion large enough to fill
A cauldron, or grate pot, or both.
Tomorrow night brings us Hallowe'en.
On this night we will meet in nature.
Invisible, we'll gather here unseen.
Beware you ghosts, your spirits we may capture.
He-he, he-he. See the waxing moon?
We'll recall the clouds and bring back gloom.
He-he,he-he. We'll serve this food from our cauldron's spoon,
And then we'll eat this feast by Philton's tomb.
And to mortals entering our space,
If you feel a vapid, haunting chill,
Please understand we only ask for grace.
Our seance group won't return until
The mushrooms grow again in woodsy place.
Unmarked grave
Epigraph reads slave
Not even dignified with a name
Just a ghost of a boy surrounded
By tombs of those known
Tombs of those never alone
In a cemetery full of strangers
Even in death he is separated from his family
Who was he?
The world may never know
His body buried just like his story unknown
He was born into shackles
And died in them
He never got to taste the sweetness of freedom
Even in death, even in the afterlife
He will always be known
Through only his skin colour
We will never fully know will we?
When i die,
Lay me by
Where the wildflowers grow
Then as I lay,
You can pray
For my presence to ‘round you flow
And as winter calls,
And the ice falls
And makes my grassy mound rise with snow
Let spring bloom,
Flowers on my tomb
Grow in the sun’s heat and the wind’s gentle blow
As summer rises,
Bringing heat to new sizes
And away my spirit to where few do know
Finally when fall sighs
Watch as the leaf flies
As a reminder of the deadly reaping of what I did sow
There’s this voice that echoes inside of me,in the pit of my soul
He has long sharp nails, with which he tears down the walls of my heart,peice by piece
Every time my foot steps on the grass, greener than the day before
He pulls me down into the Earth
And I am submerged into the sea
Filled with thousands of faces, faces I know ,but none of them I recognise
He caresses my face with his palms, softer than petals of a rose
And then ,he hold my hands so tightly that I see my veins and
drop by drop my blood drips in the ocean
But I hold him back with every bit of my strength
And I listen to my screams he eats the flesh on my body
Using every ounce of strength in the skies and the stars, he opens the insides of my stomach
To reveal my intestines and all I see is….
Shame ,shame and so much shame and so much guilt
That it transpires very bit of light around me
And for the very last time I kiss the sea back
Blessed and blasted what a beautiful day
Picnic basket lunch for You and me
Cone join us Lord, You're always welcome
What great company You will be
Tell us a story now dear Father
Thrill us all just one more time
Placed His body in the tomb at noon
He was nowhere to be found by nine
He is risen, yes the Lord has gone away
But He'll be back in another three days
Hooray! Hooray!
high rising waves crashing on my tomb
the tomb of stone i built on my grave
a sailor on a sea on a ship with no sail
i carved my story on stones with my nails
in a well where my savior’s hands feel shorter
escaping this town is only way move forward
sun never rises in my forever cold world
peace is something you will long for in my world
so
i’ll try
i’ll fight
i’ll love
and
i’ll die
A Sunday Morning
A small group of women
slowly approach a
tomb hewed from a
local hill.
A bright rising sun
begins to peek over
the horizon as the first
day of the new week dawns.
The Roman soldiers lay
all about the entrance
in different poses
as if asleep.
The mighty stone that
blocked the small
entrance to the hole of
death is rolled away.
The women approach and
look inside. The rock bed
where He lay is empty
save for the blood-stained shroud.
At the head and foot
sit two men garbed
in white as if guarding
the shroud.
He is not here. The
women gasp as one
to see the empty rock bed
and they wonder what next.
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