Mary's lament - a poem by Chris Zachariou

My love for The Son of Man and Christianity as a way of life is infinite, however, I find it impossible to believe in a metaphysical world.

This poem is my own personal view of God, Jesus, and Mary Magdalene. Please do not continue reading if you are easily offended or intolerant of other peoples' views.

This poem is largely inspired by the novel 'The Last Temptation of Christ' by Nikos Kazantzakis.

Mary Magdalene

You knock on my door,
and bleating like a lamb, you
call me sister.
Fall into my bed, blow out
the red lamb, and save my flesh.
My soul will not be far behind.

Mary's story - a poem by Chris Zachariou

My love for The Son of Man and Christianity as a way of life is infinite, however, I find it impossible to believe in a metaphysical world.

This poem is my own personal view of God, Jesus, and Mary Magdalene. Please do not continue reading if you are easily offended or intolerant of other peoples' views.

This poem is largely inspired by the novel 'The Last Temptation of Christ' by Nikos Kazantzakis.

Mary Magdalene

The softness of the girl

the hardness of the boy.

We kissed—

a touch, a sigh, a whisper

and my fate was sealed.

The troubadour - a poem by Chris Zachariou

I go back to that

graveyard where all
my dreams are buried—
a prison in my head
I made to keep her;

A life looking at the door - a poem by Chris Zachariou

You are my memories
when life was strawberries
and cream in June, of scars
and wounds unhealed and of
unending days of sadness.

A very serious altercation - a poem by Chris Zachariou

a beautiful butterfly

A fragile child with bruised wings

you found refuge in the caverns

of my troubled mind.

I kissed your broken hopes

I warmed your broken wings

and prayed to the gods

that you would never leave me.

You dazzled me
with a splash of bright colours
then tried to shock me
and demanded my response.

A coupling of minds, we fed
each other's need for loneliness.
At ease —we both knew
we were never destined to be lovers—
we revelled in the sin of happiness.

I was terrified.
Strike out first, push the button,
wreck, destroy.
Banish this deceptive dream.

I plunged into that pit
and painted all thoughts of us
on the walls in black.

How I miss your song.
Your face is now a prisoner
trapped in a hopeless screen.

I wonder, did I ever really
know you or was I just
a stranger in your brilliant life.

I put my head above the parapet
and look at your happy world.
I speak to you but you stay silent
and I sink back into my lonely life.

Till we have built Jerusalem - a poem by Chris Zachariou

The White Cliffs of Dover

Cotton fluffy clouds
sailing in clear blue skies
English roses blooming
in perfect English gardens.

Perfect English oak trees
rooting to the Magna Carta
in this perfect English village
with its perfect village green.

Atthis Abandons Sappho - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Portrait of Sappho

I'll always love you Sappho,
my love of yesteryear.

A graceless child you thought me
but you took my hand and loved me
with a kind of love that burned.