Betrayal for Violence.

Holy Wednesday 

Grateful bastard, so well you know me ,

So you think you can flipping turn easily,

my fell desires to yours and create freely

another like you? 

Then think again my Lord, Think again.


You are so kind and you love the poor,

you gave me the purse and I have made sure

that they are always, always wanting more.

If you think I’m like you? 

Then think again my Lord, Think again.


The wandering women, I hate the lot, 

its not in my heart to care a jot,

except for the Romans will I rot,

If you think I’ll change

Then think again my Lord, Think again.


I went to see them and they paid me well.

Its not the money but the chance to yell,

I wish you’d listen, be surprised that I’d sell 

you and arm your men,

Then think again my Lord, Think again.


If only you would see your peoples’ need,

it’s from the Romans they want to be freed.

Your zeal unplaced will never, never feed

the starving. Hear me please!

Then think again my Lord, Think again.


I found him, kissed him and called his name.

they took him away and then I felt the blame,

How’d I missed that it was right to avoid fame,

to be loving and graceful, a king of souls.

Then think again Judas, Think again.


It’s too late. It was I who should have thought,

stopped and listened, let him change my heart,

and yet stubborn to the last I chose my part,

and shall I be damned to eternity.

Well, think again Judas, Think again.

Palms or Arms

He boldly went on a bewildered donkey,

batting the flies as they settled to feed on 

both their faces. The long ears of the ass

twitching and both hearts fast beating 

as the crowds around cried,”Hosanna!”

The strewed garments grimy and torn

by flocks of people waving branches,

claiming the humble man as their king,

hoping that he would take up arms,

fight their cause, banish the Romans.


He tried to unclench his teeth and let go,

smelled the fresh scent of broken palms,

and touched the dark, rough haired, long

eared head. They began to walk slowly,

plodding down the long, grave strewn hill.


He felt the eyes from the armed ramparts,

He lifted his dark brown eyes and looked,

The famed golden gates open, beckoning,

his gentle mouth fixed, his bowels churning,

Judas turns, smiling, his shouts the loudest,


The cool streets embraced the eager crowds.

He dismounted and sent the donkey away,

forever marked as a sign of suffering love.

Walking up the hill, the temple beckons

and they’re waiting on his every word.


‘Silence the citizens,’ called the objectors,

‘ Hush them? Remember the seeing stones 

violence, lechery, cheating, killing they know.

For the stones will cry out from the wall, 

calling God’s Kingdom of mercy and grace.


Thirsty he drank thankfully, Mary saw his need,

clearing his head, he reached out to heal,

to answer their questions, tell short stories,

think creatively when they try to box him in,

and then to Bethany, solace, peace and rest.