Hard Times on Golgotha

[nebris]

..written Jan 2nd, 1994..

[for Christine]

My throbbing head is
cradled
as by a Crown of Thorns
on my tear soaked,
sleepless pillow.
I clutch at my genitals,
Calvary under the bedclothes,
my Savior flanked by common thieves.
Or, is it the Holy Trinity?
I wish I was Jesus.
She is a Good Catholic Girl,
a Pious Child,
wandering in a childhood wilderness,
consumed with a passion for Holy Orders.
Sister Mary Magdalene,
unblemished Bride of Christ.
If I was Jesus,
She would love me.
If I was Jesus,
She would want me .
If I was Jesus,
She would Worship me
with Her Body
And I, Hers with mine.
If I was Jesus,
my cock, rigid, hoodless,
would be a Host,
Sacred upon Her tongue,
Her cute, sexy overbite
sliding down its taut, hard smoothness,
its Purple
as rich as Caesar's robes,
Her Bright Blonde tresses,
rising, falling,
cascading across my loins,
shining like God's Own Light.
If I was Jesus
for me, She would spread
Her Sweet, Supple Thighs,
covered with fine yellow down.
If I was Jesus,
for me, She would offer
the Gates of Heaven,
that Divine Portal,
Pink and Glistening,
haloed by the delicate Golden Hair of Angels,
Her belly quivering in anticipation
of The Presence
of The Lord.
And when I entered in to Her,
tight,
lush,
wet with Manna,
She would cry out:
"Oh, God, yes!"
"Oh, GOD, Yes!!"
"OH, GOD, YES!!!"
If I was Jesus,
She would submit,
as meek as a lamb,
as gentle as a reed.
If I was Jesus,
She would hold me close.
And there, in each other's arms,
Intermingled, Co-Joined,
we would be Saved and Reborn,
world without end,
forever and ever,
Amen.

I find myself on my knees
praying to Holy Mary
with all the fervor I can muster.
"Oh, Blessed Virgin,
please make me Your Son!
Oh, Blessed Virgin,
please take me
into Your Womb
and Transform me
into The Christ!"

But, The Great Mother is silent,
and no Transformation takes place.
I will not become Jesus.
I am to be only flesh.
Mortal.
Corrupt.
Putrid.
And She?
She is out there,
swimming thru this
Vale of Tears,
fucking pale, pinched faced,
little Christ Killers.
And I am here, in my room,
mixing my semen
with the Blood from my Stigmata.