Hung On The Cross

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Hung On The Cross Page 2

by Carlos Luis


  You bleeded in RED and washed away our sins!

  The ghastly sight horrified our souls,

  The demons in us had shuddered in fear,

  We prayed and prayed in panic and pain,

  Thinking it could be Any of us...in your place,

  The price which You payed through your blood,

  Brought us penance and strengthened our morals!

  Mankind survived through your faith,

  You ignited the light in all our hearts,

  The light of faith,

  The light of trust,

  The light of care,

  The light of acceptance!

  Let this retribution of Yours not go in waste,

  Let Your brothers not start the war again,

  For how many times you will show us the light,

  For how many times you will weep in red blood,

  For how many times you will crucified again,

  And how many times you will take birth from death!

  © Mou Sircar 2016

  POEM 13

  When I look at you hung on cross

  I lay my face in the warmth of tears.

  It is dark unsettled as refugees' land

  a banishment in unrelenting hair strands.

  My hunger forgets you give us a piece of bread

  a prayer summoned in reward and bloodshed.

  An orphan born

  tied to a black cat’s watching eyes.

  Father you descend

  and wash away my bed smeared in sex.

  I scribble language with a piece of white chalk

  my baby is born, the clock strikes: one o’ clock.

  Tears are ever warm as she cries for the first time

  the night snorts through ~

  Baby,’You’ are my Christ

  as calm as my inner sighs!

  © Ritamvara Bhattacharya 2016

 

  POEM 14

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  I feel pity for the earth at its eternal loss

  You still wear a blood smeared thorny crown

  nails still prick you and you don't even frown

  You body is bared and withered since ages

  Your existence adorns the history pages

  Does a Messiah really deserve to be crucified?

  Can this query ever be justified?

  When will you get freedom from the pain

  And the world will be free from cruelty and disdain?

  Our eyes will be quenched on that special day

  When the whole world will be happy and gay.

  © Fatima Afshan 2016

  POEM 15

  When I look at you hung on the cross,

  My heart sinks with a sense of loss,

  To think of the pains and sufferings that you had gone across,

  To redeem mankind, Jesus you had died on the cross,

  And thousands of questions crisscross,

  When the mind is in a doss,

  While seeing the cross hung with much material gloss,

  Whereas the bare ruined are covered with moss,

  These are the contrasting thoughts that again and again recross,

  But I am a pangloss,

  Who believe like the spiritual posse,

  That your sacrifices for the salvation of mankind will never be dross.

  © Sunanda Bhadra 2016

  POEM 16

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  Blood dripping from both the hands

  Face disfigured and discoloured with blood across

  With the thorns crowning your crown as red band

  I am moved with remorse and regret

  "Have I sinned against sinning?"

  How can I turn my face in cool neglect?

  When every blood-drop keeps me pinning:

  "What's the portion of your cup?"

  "Oh Jesus, it has turned a potion!"

  There was many a slip betwixt the lip and the cup

  Now I repent and remit in expiation.

  © Arputharaj Devaraj 2016

  POEM 17

  When I look at you,

  Hung on the cross.

  My soul goes back,

  To the time,

  When you suffered.

  My blood boils,

  My eye cries,

  I breathe even faster,

  Than the time.

  Eons have passed,

  Things are still,

  The same!

  The world is,

  Still demonic, I say!

  O Jeez!

  When I see you,

  Hung on the cross.

  I never do cry,

  But my heart & soul

  Puke out tears,

  When I see you, Hung on the cross.

  © Anindita Dash 2016

  POEM 18

  W hen I look at You

  H ung

  O n the cross,

  I see

  S alvation with its cost.

  T here is sacrifice

  H ere where hungry lions

  E njoy their feeding.

  O nly to be accursed,

  N ot capable of hindsight,

  E nraptured in midnight.

  T here is something

  R avenous in the weak

  U njustly crucifying the meek--

  E xperience taunts me.

  L anguishing, anguishing therefore go

  I in my

  G houlishly endeavoring for

  H onesty--

  T ime rewards seeds the sown.

  O ppression thrives in darkness' treason:

  F orever, my struggled meditation on reason.

  M ankind, self and as a whole

  A lways seeking satiation--

  N ever-ending, the ravening.

  ?

  The cross stands while earth and sky breaks,

  Innocence is plunged into the abyss.

  A perfect man, one without mistakes,

  A snake, no longer striking at heels, mutes his hiss.

  When I look at You hung on the cross,

  I see all we have gained not all we lost.

  © Marshall G. Kent Sr. 2016

  POEM 19

  When I Look at you hung on the cross…..

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  For a moment and so My Heart wrenched and sunk

  What could be more cruelty… than this I thought?

  How could the mortal corpse bear such ache and hurt?

  I was lost in forming reasonable questionnaires

  How couldn’t The Lord! Heard your last Prayers

  Why didn’t He came to save you from that pain

  And stopped the evils to play that bloody game?

  I asked myself and The Lord!! Over and again

  What pleasure you might have got from that excruciating pain

  How could you’ve forgiven the Evils and devils as if Charity?

  Just because…You loved all and loved the humanity

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  I comprehend that it denote a sacred verse

  To conquer the hatred and victory of choicest love

  Engraved in the history of humanity by The Cosmos

  Written on earth by the sanguine fluid of noble soul

  To defeat the purpose of hatred of all souls of evil

  When I looked at you Hung on cross

  For moment I felt as if all evils in me are lost!!!

  © Tina Acharya 2016

 

  POEM 20

  A Plane of Existence

  WHEN I look at you hung on the cross

  I feel a sense of who's my true boss

  LOOK at all we've acquired

  AT the dreams you've inspired

  YOU opened the eyes of the blind

  HUNG on for mankind

  ON the day of your death

  THE angels wept

  CROSS this earthly plane shall we meet?

  © Gary Manz 2016r />
  POEM 21

  Fathoms of Faith

  Red skies in the morning

  Sailors take warning

  And so, I was born into the world

  To begin my adventure

  With my soul indentured

  Setting sail with my flag unfurled

  But my heart remained empty

  In this ocean of plenty

  Barron and void to be precise

  Thus it remained until I knew Christ

  Now full of joy and love

  From our Savior above

  My sea is no longer pitched and tossed

  You bring me peace

  Strength that will never cease

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  Red skies at night

  Sailors delight

  © Gary Manz 2016

 

  POEM 22

  When I look at you hung on the cross,

  I wonder at the image of the men gross;

  Overwhelming was your love and acceptance,

  Yet the ignorant did not give you credence;

  I wonder that no Bible, no Gita and no Quran,

  Can truly save the doomed clan of man;

  Pitiable is the fact,

  That morality of modern man,

  Is going down a shallow tract;

  But, love your enemies, you said,

  And sacrificed your blood, the God’s lad;

  Love never fails, you said;

  Such pure love, only you could have had;

  Hung on the Cross, When I look at you,

  I see personification of the perfect love,

  Had you any religion other than love,

  I don’t think of that I have a clue;

  For the sake of man,

  You happily paid the hefty price,

  What’s troubling is a question,

  Has the man truly understood the sacrifice?

  When I look at you,

  I see the benchmark of pure love,

  The infinite sea of understanding,

  A heart tender than a thousand dove;

  An eye for an eye,

  Is making this world’s soul dry;

  The blind passions and obsessions,

  Making the man distant from thy;

  I wonder that no Bible, no Gita and no Quran,

  Can truly save the doomed clan of man;

  Pitiable is the fact,

  That morality of modern man,

  Is going down a shallow tract.

  And yet when I look at you hung on the cross,

  I see a hope even for the grossest of gross.

  © Megha Rana 2016

  POEM 23

  Unbroken love

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  I wonder at the brutality that did that

  At how anyone can be seen lower than another

  For the sake of beliefs and convictions different

  And at your grace which submitted to that

  Those nails tore into your flesh as they were driven

  Even then you asked that they be forgiven

  Your soul remained untouched, unhurt

  Gathering up your corporal shell you arose

  The signs of torture remnant still

  Your celestial figure shining forth

  Dispelling darkness lighting up hearts

  With faith hope joy and divine grace

  © Vineetha Mekkoth 2016

  POEM 24

  When I look at you hung on the cross,

  My sadness due to us your life you have lost

  You were died for us and for our sin

  For the whole world you had suffered, in pain

  You have had carried the cross, across the land

  And you were crucified, to his command

  But before, you know that all this will be happen

  You and the Apostle´s are on last meal snapping

  Suddenly, you declare, "one of you betrayed me"

  And yes, he gave you the sign a, kiss. it´s He

  They caught and treated you like a beast

  Every time I watch the "Passion", my heart in tears

  The pain I feel inside, cuts so deep

  But it must be happen to awaken those who sleep

  I knelt down and pray of your forgiveness

  For all my sin and for others, my deeds are my witness.

  Then again, I look at you, must all those done? I asked

  But for the sacrifice you have done for us, I thanked.

  © Gina Ancheta Agsaulio 2016

  POEM 25

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  I look at myself in a box, below a cloud

  It doesn't reach me

  but the outer walls of my touch.

  and the touch traverses to every eye

  as hail, monsoon and dews.

  The last wood of your touch,

  that is the cross, is an intersection

  of colors,

  and this noon of blessings does not

  befall, based and biased on

  human cries.

  I see a dawn on the banks of your hairs

  A raven cawing nature in your palm

  and a creeper at those feet, crawling

  for wisdom.

  I look at you on the cross

  I return home and look at my lawn.

  A banyan

  with hued branches.

  © Daipayan Nair 2016

 

  POEM 26

  All of these thoughts are not mine.

  All of my thoughts are not divine.

  Possession, demons cast into swine,

  And I'll always take bacon with wine.

  Here I stand, life making me cross,

  Compelled to think as the body's dross.

  Am I albacore or albatross?

  Then a miracle happens and I'm not lost.

  A spirit, a symbol worn, a crown of thorns,

  A casting of lots for Christ's raiments worn.

  A cross by three and a murderer goes free,

  Here I realize the murderer is me.

  When I look at You hung on the cross,

  I'm compelled to calculate totality of cost.

  Winter lets loose its rigid frost,

  Spring becomes new life, but not without cost.

  When I look at You hung on the cross,

  A Son calls to His Father for the lost.

  He knows the cup, this Holy Grail,

  He needs not a physical body to defeat Hell.

  When I look at You hung on the cross,

  I hear Your voice, it is not lost.

  Cast away the temple's raiment it's rent to Hell,

  Upon every Word of Christ shall I dwell.

  © Marshall G. Kent Sr. 2016

  POEM 27

  When i look at you hung on the cross

  My heart weeps like the harmless albatross

  Who too was shot without any treason by the boss

  These cold blooded neuters take no loss

  They simply use the bird as a dental floss.

  His body wrapped in wire was made to toss

  Blood splashing in ounces seemed to them like a sauce

  Tears drooled from the eyes of the crowd and from the trees wearing the spanish moss

  Even his life today wouldn't take away his teachings neither from our mind nor from our thoughts.

  Even though he was crucified on the cross

  He came back across

  Spreading happiness like the albatross

  Riding his chariot in the sky with the helios.

  © Diptendu Chakraborty 2016

  POEM 28

  When I look at you

  Hung on the cross

  Your wounds bleeding

  I see infinite love flowing

  For all humanity

  Touching a chosen few

  Who were transformed.

  © Himali Narang 2016

  POEM 29

  When I look at you
hung on the cross

  My heart is heavy and my eyes are moist

  How could a king stoop so low

  Only to unburden my shoulders and wipe away my Sorrow

  When I look at you hung on the cross

  I remember just how far I was lost

 

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