cult of crucifixation

in the beginning was the word
and the word was us
pressed between ungiving pages
and yet in touching we multiplied

so what was first
was word made flesh
or did flesh make the words

scope and more we had to withhold
to give him all praise
his narcissism walled us off
to ourselves, ne’er to fit in

and what of his thirst
for our blood made blest
we venerated the absurd

he showed us we were never worthy
he broke our hearts
this round hole passover pricker
no forgiving this time, the abuse must end

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

30 thoughts on “cult of crucifixation

  1. This is a tough poem to read as a religious person, but I appreciate your exploration of “the religious” through poetry – Sorry to hear you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but appreciate your writing.

    Liked by 4 people

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