A Good Friday poem, 2010
“King of the Jews”
Is that what they've charged against you?
Another lie.
Your crime is murder.
I gave up my life,
but, where do I go from here?
You knew me, didn't you?
Do you still know?
Do you know what I have become?
Because of you, what I have become?
I am a heretic.
I am a blasphemer.
I am an outcast.
I am in shame.
And I am these things because of you.
I trusted you,
and you led me to your death--
to your betrayal.
to your betrayal.
I hang on that cross,
A criminal,
A deserter.
And where do I go from here?
Now, your shame
pours over my head
and falls from my hands.
“From dust you came; to dust you shall return.”
Not even lepers would take me in.
Not with these stains.
Why did you call on me?
You knew me, didn't you?
Do you still know?
Won't you save yourself?
Can you remember me where you go?
Prove yourself and come down
so that I might be spared
this shame--
this guilt--
this death of following you.
Why did I come
If it was only to end like this?
You knew me didn't you?
Do you still know?
Can you look at me and not weep?
You raise the dead, and yet you die.
“The King of the Jews”
hangs on a tree.
And the dead come to bury.
It is your turn to bury.
What life is this?
What life is left?
Do you call for Elijah;
and will he come to save you?
Will he come to save me?
You knew me, didn't you?
Do you still know?
Do you know me and where I am from?
I cannot go where you are going.
And I cannot go back.
But you knew me, didn't you?
Do you still know?
