New Poems

"Blasphemy"

I don't write because I want to
I write because I need to

These words spill from me
Like the blood (turned to wine)
That ushered from Christ's wounds
When he was speared in his side
As he was left up on his cross
Like a fucking display

I only wonder
If something as magnificent
Will happen to me
When the words I put to paper
Are read and absorbed
Like Christ's blood
When it soaked through the dirt
Below his holy feet

I only pray my name
Won't be dragged through the mud
As onlookers and bystanders scream,
"Blasphemy! Blasphemer! Blasphemy!"

Go get your guns
Line me up
Stand me up against the wall
Gather all women and children
As the men aim their arrows and spears
And make a martyr out of me

When asked for any last words
I will turn my head towards the sky
And pray
"Forgive them, for they know not what they do"

My final words
Cut like a stone
They'll bury me behind
And in the same tomb
They'll hide each and every word I ever said
Like a Gospel unfit
For publication in the book
They'll inevitably write about my life

Am I Christ?
Or am I human?
Am I Christ?
Or do I just wish I got the attention he was paid?
Am I Christ?
Or just another sad victim?
Am I Christ?