The Word: The Poetry of j r sherman

mother

my mother did not
marry my father,
a bastard child was i
conceived before the vows
of ancient shame took hold
of the laws being very clear,
"thou shalt not commit adultery"
on the day of my birth,
i would be well pleased to
my father
my mother
as i saw her until the end
in the mortal cries of
every sinner finished in stone
her face the last vision i would
own and be thine own.
no one had forsaken me,
for she was there, and never
would never see my face
in a child of mine
as a father,
my mother,
what sins could i have taken
to keep your weeping tears,
away then
at the end of all things.

Father

from the womb of jordan's
waters, warm and baptized
i came to walk roads
that all children walk in
pleasing one father
disappointing another who
will die and never know me
truly torn between a life
of the hands
and life in torment
too god i ask of you,
in the father i had
who smiled at me when young,
who taught me the love and joy
of all gentle things,
let him know in the time
he dies,
when i say my father's will
i speak his name as well
as yours.

Magdalene

you were a bird
of broken angel's wings
the sadness of what you held
to your wounded heart
i promised to forgive
and take away the tears
from your eyes
i was thankful
that within you,
i could see
god's most holy gift,
his greatest good,
his best creation, you
who did anointed my feet,
and beaten body
and stayed beside me
in the hour of my death
i gave you nothing,
not a child of yours,
not a tender kiss,
not a lover's words,
i gave you everything
that i could give
and it would never be enough.

to you who call my name
to ease the drinking
of your brothers blood,
to you who use me preaching
your foolish pride, and envy, hate
to you who presume to tell me
what it was i've always felt
you know nothing
of a broken bird i could not have
a world's sins upon my shoulders,
and what it was
i'd given up
to save you!

Miracles

lazaruz
i beg of you
awake my friend!
to cure the sick,
and cleanse the soul
of the devil's lie
and promises of my
father's house
is not enough.
there is not just
bread and fish
the tricks of wonder
that i speak,
it's goodness plain
forgiving others,
the other cheek,
lending your coat
in the cold of a storm
is what i preach
and makes no matter
like a magical minstrel
is how i'm seen,
so lazarus awake,
i am sorry my friend,
i can't escape
each step i take,
the sun is setting
and i need you now.

The Temple Of Jerusalem

flowers can grow
between the stones
of any temple
taken to the ground
ruined by the hands of men.
but before i die here
i wish to touch the stones
where i walked as a child
remembering a father's pride
a mother's joy to be
at the door of your heart
the spirit of your house breathing
like the center of the world.
god, you may make me
bloody and broken upon
the wood and thorns,
uncounted sins, and
torn before your very eyes
i beg you,
save this house
and holy land
save the blessed
of your children's labor,
keep the temple forever clean
so that after i have gone to you
all will know that here
was where i once walked.

Gethsemane

what more god?
everything as you asked
and are well pleased with
has been done,
thy will made flesh,
miracles of magic
spread like seeds upon
the ground and wait to grow,
they know you are here
with them always,
what more? silence
creeps across the night time
in the last time i ask you
i am your son,
i am your tool
the knife to plunge into
the heart of man and woman.
my father made flesh taught me
that the tool that molds the wood
into beauty take care
and save for another time
we can bargain for more time,
another day, another psalm
another miracle to give. silence
asleep i drink and wonder why
i hear nothing tonight among
the trees in this garden
your angels have hid behind.
i have cast out demons in my day,
i cannot cast off death.
this bitter cup you brought me tonight,
promise to bring it
to me tomorrow
when thy will
and my time
be done.

Crucifixion

life
this life,
a life no different
then any other,
ends in small steps over
stones and rocks
that knew solomon
to the hill
i will pray for you all,
as I count the steps
taking your pain
towards eternity,
burning i try to
keep in sight it's joy.
Pray with me brothers, sisters,
Mother and father, my only love,
My only regret,
a prayer:
"The lord is my shepherd"
"The lord is my shepherd"
"The lord is my shepherd"

oh god...the words strike into my
arms and feet….

why have you forsaken me?
blood dripping oceans of this
pain do not tell me you feel this
more than i, lord,
i cannot breathe or
see you anywhere beside me
hearing my mother weep and asking the same
of you who made me die here!

but i do hear the voice of mine,
while blood given tears fall down
the other cheek i've offered
my enemies do weep at my death
fearing that which they cannot kill
that which is the will of forever

forgive me father for a weakness
of flesh through an ocean of pain
i have come to see my legacy:
a soul that can come to peace
with all this madness in the end
can go to you gladly and say,
"father,
it is accomplished".

Resurrection

everything was without end
songs made in my heart truly
washed away the sins
of everything without end
yet before ascending into rapture
i did think to myself
that in the passions of flesh
that the day made
there was hope
but in the sorrows of the day
that the flesh made
did anyone hear
a single word
when it ended?