As It Ever Was, Has Ever Been, and As It Ever Shall Be, A Man

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Our meetings are beginnings of God’s end.

The lives of men are all endurance till

They part.  He raised his wrists.  They did not bend

But searched for heaven’s height.  There Jesus, still,

Remained impassive as most gods will do.

No spangling spirit fell to meet straight arms.

No tongues of fire descended—but fast glue

Gripped everything and caused grim god harms,

Beside the shoulder lifting fingers starved

For love, its drugs, or other drugs.  He sang

But music didn’t matter while he carved

Inside near chest and left a scar-like tang.

  Romance of pierce of love licked deeper than

    Christ.  Mercy was withheld.  Lust stunned a man.

© Phillip Whidden