Seven Things Spoken

Seven things spoken,
three words for completion,
silence, then a cracking earth
and a temple veil torn in two.
James E. Roethlein ©2021

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

   Thoughts During that Famous Light Collation on Good Friday

This morning I mowed the lawn, the springtime lawn
Then messed about with flowerpots and bees
In this little safe space of happy green
A shadow of Heaven beneath wise Plato’s oak

This evening I will visit Jerusalem
And follow timidly the Stations of the Cross
Not wanting to be noticed by Romans or Greeks
(Setting aside the fact that I am a Roman)

Time stops - with faltering steps and a contrite heart
A journey into the dark, and then – waiting

Thursday Night

Body-blood
wafers-wine,
praises turned crucifixion,
a mother's milk gone sour
to boil its lamb son alive.
We lament, and remember
(upon this Thursday night)
the actual retail price paid,
the victory won from defeat.
James E. Roethlein ©2021

With mixed and barbed emotions
these thick and heavy days defy physics
individually grinding
yet weekly whipping by

But in this treacled maelstrom
Friday’s unique frisson
still brings a cheeky tickle

It was Friday.

I did it again,
but just enough to numb the pain

to wake me up from a bad dream.

am doin' my best ever since..

bcs I fear
that one day

I might not scared of the most unknown.

I was crying
Before I went
I really did not want this to end
Sat down under the light
Waiting to see your drunk
face in the night


I will never force you to love me
But if you love me I won’t mind
Promise me you won’t change your mind

Friday:
faux finish line it may be,
but colour me happy
as my knackered toe to tip
crosses it