Blood and Water

Blood and Water


Aye, there was a death alright.

Sent me back to finish off

The three of them.

Clubbed, smashed legs

For the two rogues.

Breathing becomes impossible.

Third one looked already gone.

They told me He’d been different;

Calm, connecting with some Spirit.

Eyes closed, serene

Like a worker in a well-earned sleep.

He seemed out of place.

Nasty business for One

Who had taught peacefully in town.

So I’m told.

Feeling the ugliness of my job

I thrust with spear,

Bringing on a queer eruption

Of blood and water.

Happens sometimes.

Convulsive internal rupture

Confirming death.

We spared His legs.

Those who remained

Around the cross

Were all in tears.

As if something great had broken

Inside them too.



(1 John 5: 6-8)

That is intense, my friend. No doubt.

Down from the Cross


Elsewhere I have posted this poem about Joseph of Arimathaea. The total injustice of it all! The pitiful condition of the battered rabbi from Galilee. The hypocrisy of the so-called guardians of Jewish tradition. Probably the most hopeless scene in human history. It was the "Passion" -Christ being passive; the man of action allowing despicable things to be done unto him for the greater glory of the Plan and for the ultimate manifestation of Father's love. This was explored in another poem posted entitled "Treachery's Kiss".

Love the way you wrote it from a centurion's point of view. I thought you captured his voice nicely. It sounds like something that soldier might have really been thinking.