Christianity – poems 2 die for

TIME TREK

straight from the pulpit
mouth of Stanley Kubrick

by way
of Jupiter, the Moon,
beyond the galaxy and
the dawn of Man

without
historiographic context
the grain
of the cross
cannot be determined

thus spake the Yale
deconstructive theologian
unto the mediasphere

meanwhile on the other side
of the screen
but
likewise in Africa
I saw cinema where
I had my
first Kubrick contact

along the old Voortrekker Road
North, in those badass CY
suburbs of Cape Town

the Christians came in droves
drove us
from that
watering hole

turned it into
what I suppose they thought
a special day-night
paradise
for the evangelically faithful

no world
in which they
and I
could meet and talk

about pod bay doors and
HAL
and the Monolith

about starchild transfomed
floating through space

haunting
close to our Odyssey

EASTER POEM

Easter is upon us
read
the book “Zealot”, read the
Gnostic Gospels

watched J of N
on a streaming service
for the zillionth time
but did not
see this
sucker coming
(still see
myself as
the prodigal son)

and now
a tale of torture, agony
for all time
sweating blood there in
Gethsemane during
that ultimate dark night
body of
Christ itself
turned apocalyptic

tale of Paul and tale
of Mary Magdalen
tale of Crusades against
the other Abrahams

tale of
the energy in mass
released in microseconds
delivered on a platter
to vaporize
sacred sites

just
to list
evidence for
the case

that we
still
need
redemption

transcendence
of the brutal self

at least
for some peace, a modicum
at least
over this Easter

whilst I
amongst parable thorns
fallen on
stony ground
called
but not answering

flatly look forward to
spending this Easter
summoning up
ancient alchemists
of my
acquaintance

begging them
getting them
egging them on

to transform, transmogrify,
do their utmost
to achieve this

this bag
of Roman nails
simply
shuffle down
that table
before
my very eyes become golden,
eclipse my eyes as solar spikes.