Tag: Christianity

Good Friday

How one man, who can be, Only defined by one Latin word – Caritas, Chose to be nailed to a cross  To save a species, whose wisdom Stood second to sin. In this moment in history, We remember the most selfless act in a long history Of mankind. How a 33 year old man, saved

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The Bible

People forget that the new testament, Was a posthumous compilation. Yes, the bible was compiled 300 years After Jesus was hung on a cross, In a place called Nicaea. The bible Is at some degree, fiction, although We like to see it as fact, sacred fact. The bible is as much to do with the

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Christmas

Down that noisy road in Colombo, The horns peep, while people Look around at Christmassy sights; Large candy sticks far bigger Than Barbers’ poles, and pine trees By the dozen, sold beside the main roads And one beggar child looks around From under a large festive shop sign Where the window, is sparkling, With fairy

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Jerusalem Artichoke (Helianthus)

Tanned yellow tiles, The open face of a sun flower, Pollen-clutched bees and butterflies, Composite, compound soul, That keeps vigil on the forefront In an anthesis of a celestial sun, That can swallow yellowcake, Through her sieves and tongues, And stands untouched through time, Like an Elizabethan virgin, Who smiles for the simple reason She

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Sunday Mornings

There are churches and then There are cathedrals. Love is the latter. That morning too, the wine glass was rich, silky and red And the bread buttered like brioche We sipped wine from each others glasses And scavenged on each others dough It was a beautiful routine on a Sunday morning To be offered on

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Mary Magdalene

The look in your face, worthy of me And the others, scorn Keeping vigil like a lioness. You who took the stone out of their palms And reminded each one, of the splinters In their eyes. And I searched for you Around the skull mountain And found an empty abandoned tomb They said you had

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Lent

I’m not a lent man. Asking me to fast Or not pour down fizz drinks is asking too much. Tea and beer though, both drinks on the fringes of bitter, I would give up. So what makes us passionate About some things, while we readily give up on others. I don’t know, but let me

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Jesus

He was a man of sandal And staff. Befriending tax collectors and prostitutes. He climbed the mountain And prayed in the gardens of Jerusalem. He was a man of simple needs Water, bread and the daily catch of fish. And yet the simplicity of his virtue Still goes far and wide, like the screeching Voice

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Abrahamic Fogs

I floated like Aladdin To see young men rape the beauty of Palymra And desecrate the Buddha statues of Bamiyan We are a plague, us humans, that do not See another’s beauty, the tiger shark That cannot see innocence – the tender shell Of armor and the soft feet of a hatched turtle Floating to

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