.
Unless . . .
As un-sun darkness swallows up the day,
And quake shake rends an empty Holy Place,
God’s grief-strewn Via Dolorosa way
Leads to a cross and Jesus’ death-stained face.
For here at Calvary creation cries,
As ageless faithful saints and martyrs rise
To watch with wide and newly-opened eyes
As their Creator bleeds, and sighs . . . and dies.
He’s over, done for, pau. He’s dead and gone.
And when he’s laid to rest he’ll rot in Sheol;
This so-called “music man,” this flim-flam con;
With duped disciples on a check-bounced payroll.
Unless . . . unless he proves not false, but true.
To rise alive . . . a promise three-days due.
.
.
James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and four collections of poetry including Sidekicks, Mostly Sonnets, and Laughing Matters, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in both print and online media. He was honored with being chosen as the winner of the 2021 SCP International Poetry Competition.
A serious contrast between the second and third quatrains, James. The magnitude of what happens in the second (resurrection already!) overwhelms the trivializing faithlessness of the third, thus implying that the promise of the final line will be fulfilled. For a Good Friday poem, however, it is appropriate to leave the outcome unspoken.
Margaret,
There is no affirmation of Jesus’ resurrection in this poem. Only Jesus’ as yet unfulfilled promise. The reference to resurrection is an intentional conflation of the resurrection of holy people that took place concurrent with Jesus’ death but who, according to Matthew’s Gospel, did not rise from their tombs to be seen until after Jesus’ resurrection.
I was speaking precisely of your intentional conflation, saying that “saints and martyrs rise” at Calvary where creation cries. The passage in Matthew has always been intriguing.
We’re having a debate on poetry and health at the moment. For many in these uncertain times, your poem must be of great comfort, James.
Thanks, for the read.
“Unless” displays a profound perspective (the only truthful kind) on the events of Good Friday, and still manages to do it in an un-trite way. A lesser poet may have said “blood-stained face”; but you avoided that by using the more thought-provoking “death-stained face”. You’ve painted a vivid picture of the earthquake by personifying it with the phrase “creation cries”. And the poem leaves us with the necessary anticipation of “three days due.”
I like this unusual take on the crucifixion. I like the way the opening draws the reader in with its “un-sun darkness” and I like the closing lines… we all know the story and these clever lines bring the enormity and significance of what came to pass into the sunlight with a twinkling poetic wink that serves to heighten hope in dark times. James, thank you.
This, of course, James, is the question, has always been the question, and will always be the question. Nothing else matters when it’s nut-cuttin’ time.
The title captures the essence of the poem. On that “unless” hangs eternity.
What a great title for this poem that drew me in, immediately, to share the vivid depiction of death and then how truth is imparted and comprehended.