Here's something you might be interested in.
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“Jesus Is Condemned” and “Jesus Meets His Mother”
James Matthew Wilson
Jesus Is Condemned
- I tried to think for half an hour
- About the face of earthly powers
- That would condemn a god to die.
- I listened for its menacing cackles,
- The crack of whips, the clank of shackles,
- And searched for dark flames in the eye.
- Through the church window I heard shrieks
- Of ambulances whose techniques
- Efficiently undo our wounds;
- The certain hum of homeward motors,
- A candidate’s rank appeal to voters,
- In these its stare and voice I found.
- For we sit kind, when comfort’s here,
- But draw our weapons with our fears
- Should we one pleasure be denied.
Jesus Meets His Mother
- Her face seems calm, when he descries her
- Dark mantle, and sees that her eyes are
- Counting the deep strokes on his back,
- Noting where woven thorns imprinted
- Kingship on his brow, how rust-tinted
- With damp the dust runs in his track.
- He feels her kiss against his shut eye,
- And tries to tell her he will not die.
- She says she’ll see him through the race.
- After all, she’s heard all his words;
- Her heart received them undisturbed,
- And undisturbed, now, her soft face.
- But, the authorities speak with one accord:
- That heart is pierced by seven swords
- And bleeds for being so full of grace.
James Matthew Wilson’s most recent books are Some Permanent Things and The Catholic Imagination in Modern American Poetry.
Here's something you might be interested in.
“Jesus Is Condemned” and “Jesus Meets His Mother”
“Jesus Is Condemned” and “Jesus Meets His Mother”
James Matthew Wilson
Jesus Is Condemned
- I tried to think for half an hour
- About the face of earthly powers
- That would condemn a god to die.
- I listened for its menacing cackles,
- The crack of whips, the clank of shackles,
- And searched for dark flames in the eye.
- Through the church window I heard shrieks
- Of ambulances whose techniques
- Efficiently undo our wounds;
- The certain hum of homeward motors,
- A candidate’s rank appeal to voters,
- In these its stare and voice I found.
- For we sit kind, when comfort’s here,
- But draw our weapons with our fears
- Should we one pleasure be denied.
Jesus Meets His Mother
- Her face seems calm, when he descries her
- Dark mantle, and sees that her eyes are
- Counting the deep strokes on his back,
- Noting where woven thorns imprinted
- Kingship on his brow, how rust-tinted
- With damp the dust runs in his track.
- He feels her kiss against his shut eye,
- And tries to tell her he will not die.
- She says she’ll see him through the race.
- After all, she’s heard all his words;
- Her heart received them undisturbed,
- And undisturbed, now, her soft face.
- But, the authorities speak with one accord:
- That heart is pierced by seven swords
- And bleeds for being so full of grace.
James Matthew Wilson’s most recent books are Some Permanent Things and The Catholic Imagination in Modern American Poetry.
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