Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Calvary Cross is Closed

Calvary Cross is Closed

Thank you to all the poets and artists and photographers for making Calvary Cross so successful!  It is with great sadness we're closing her down.  Please send your poems that you have emailed in to another poetry site.  There are many great poetry sites out there.

Keep writing and Mega Cheers & Blessings!!!

Stephen Jarrell Williams


Sunday, June 26, 2016

Matthew J. Lawler- Three Poems

Matthew J. Lawler is poet and native of Chicago. He was raised on the city's northwest side. He has been writing poetry since his teenage years. His style of writing is uniquely philosophical. He has been published in numerous on line journals, Visual Verse, Unlost Journal, Caravel Literary Arts Journal and People's Tribune. Find him and like him at facebook.com/matthewjlawlerpoet

The Heart Painted Tree

Nails and scars of dripping love,
Break these bars and burdens great,
Arms are open as sin he hugs,
Gasping desert lungs of serpent taste.
Clashing skies of night above,
Smashing lies with death of love.
The tree was full of paint that dripped,
The night brought black and blue
while back was ripped, spit
and plucking hair from face of war.
This love so rich it saves the poor.
The moon did cry when darkness reigned,
Truth despised by beating fist of lies
Eyes blind by minds that were hypnotized.
Rip your side with slashing spear,
My hand was there to crack the day,
Yet light it came through an open vein,
The dusk is dead and distrust is starved,
Through a broken brain and body scared.
Beaten bruised from within,
Open wounds of a wretch’s sin.
Infinite love, bottomless mercy mangled in misery,
You took the weight and swallowed the shame,
Burdened with iniquity and walloping pain,
The tree you bore with sleepless eyes,
What’s worse than this? The speechless cries!!

The heart painted tree, it captured me with weeping blood,
Loving the unlovable, in your demise still speaking love.

The doomed wombs of women now redeemed,
And from a naked tomb the wounds of glory gleamed,
Spilling hope like gushing running waterfalls
This life to light the way, death’s door no more,
For the worm and storm and stone are gone
The pressing price was paid
The Christ was slayed, my sorrow slain.
So trumpets blaze and eagles soar
from mountain tops
As fresh rain pours like fountain drops.
So as long as the sea flows,
No love will be greater than the love he shows,
For this heart is his and this he knows
This heart is his and this he knows.
The heart painted tree, it captured me with weeping blood,
Loving the unlovable, in your demise still speaking love.

To you I owe my life and soul,
With you I know the night is gone,
The day is bright with light you give,
You gave your life that I might live,
To dwell with stars in eternal repose,
To hell with scars were the inferno glows.
Weeping wind then flowers bloom.
The light of life the Christ devours doom.

    A Sword In The Soul

Destroy all the bombs in the world
and war will still exist,
for war exists internally
covering the core of humanity,
clothing the poor in tragedy,
Satan’s strategy, divide the classes
divorce the family.
The roots grow deep down to the dark of earth,
the sword in the soul is nothing more
than the mark of birth.
Machiavellian politics dominate
the calloused consciousness of mankind.
This uber ego separates the people
like body parts in a land mine.
War will never end until the war ends within.
Appearances are reflections
of aggression and pain,
children become orphans and wives widows
in a world of woes were men worship Cain.
Can we come to an agreement?
Man’s nature is peevish,
Rather build an altar of idolatry
and worship Cain than Jesus.

He came from off the Shore
Mark 5- demoniac from gadarenes

I’ve been out in these tombs for too long,
contained in chains shackled hand and foot.
Every man fears me, for I shatter the fetters
of iron with the strength of a thousand men.
Naked and wretched, take it and fetch
like a hound with an empty belly.
Life is but a mystery, walking alongside
falling cobwebs followed by a shadow of misery.
Chanting with the moonshine, howling as I go,
standing with a doomed mind,
a growling in my soul.

I’m so tired from these restless winds
that carry me to endless sins.
I’m locked in a solitary cell of skeletons,
Living with the scorpions.
Choices, kept me captive to the voices of vipers
that vexed me with questions of self-worth.
Bitterness, unforgiveness, rage, and hatred,
Legions of demons have left me pale and naked.
Who can save me from this octopus
and bring about my exodus?

I’m homeless and forgotten
rotten from the core,
A whirling pigsty, but who’s this guy
stepping out onto the shore.
Rejecting repression I sprinted with aggression
until we stood eye to eye.
I’ve never seen a man like this before,
One who doesn’t run away from me,
Though crippled in the heart and soul
and a mind like the raging sea.
A lunatic is what they label me,
I cut and gash myself with stones,
I dwell with graves and feast with bones,
In hell I stay and sleep in foam,
It’s you who knows I need a home.

He came from off the shore to heal the sore of soul,
The pain now wind the war within is gone,
I see the grass and trees
at last a breeze blows across my naked face,
As I bow in veneration to a peasant’s King,
For freedom is much more than a pleasant thing.

Something draws me to his presence,
So with a loud voice I cry,
And why die? If I have a choice to live,
With you the coffin breaks, no longer lost in fate,
You’ve given me sight and clothes,
Into the swine the night it goes,
Never to be heard or seen,
For the word brings a shattering
of the stone filled soul.
Who is this sandaled stranger?
He doesn’t fear the danger of the broken,
He doesn’t fear the bottom feeder,
The lowlife and the hopeless.
In fact he says the last shall be first.
And I’m an outcast of the worst kind.
But he showed me my worth
baptizing me in his love,
And for the first time my eyes can see
that I’m not the things I’ve done or said,
I’m now what he calls me,
a son of God back from the dead.

He came from off the shore,
To heal the sore of soul,
The pain now wind the war within is gone,
I see the grass and trees,
at last a breeze blows across my naked face
when I bow in veneration to a peasant’s King,
For freedom is much more than a pleasant thing.

Ramona Thompson- A Poem

Ramona Thompson has been writing for more then 20 years. Her past credits include Calvary Cross, Dead Snakes, Blood Moon Rising, Infernal Ink, This Ain't No Rodeo and many more.
Readers/fans may stalk her on facebook or her e-mail reddstar111@gmail.com
Jesus Is An Ocean of Love

Come Come in faith
Immerse yourself
In the feeling
In His love
Lose yourself
To find yourself
Just one dip
One more breath
And Heaven's treasures will most surely be yours

For Jesus is an ocean of love
The sweetest, most gentle prayer
And it's all
Just for you
His most beloved
Sons and daughters
On whom never could He turn His back

Through the sands of time
He stands with you
He stands for you
As one
At your side
A father and a best friend
Catching you when you fall
Carrying you
Through the waves
Lending His strength
When you are too weak
To go it on your own

From sea to shining sea
From shore to sandy shore
Never forget
He is there
In the spirit and in the flesh
A golden God
In the glorious rays of the sun
Reflecting back
The very best of Him found in you
For Jesus is an ocean of love
Just aching to sweep you away
With the power of His holy love

2016 Ramona Thompson

Donal Mahoney- A Poem

After-Hours Hot Spot

You never know 
who’ll be there though 
folks are dying to get in.

Then suddenly you're 
at the door, hat in hand, 
surprised to be there.

If the door opens 
you walk in. If not, 
you disappear.

No questions asked. 
No answers given.
Some say it’s wise 

to make a reservation. 
Others say never mind.
There’s no one's there. 

But when you're 
at the door, hat in hand, 
surprised to be there,

you have no choice. 
The door opens
or you disappear.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Ramona Thompson- A Poem

Ramona Thompson has been writing for more then 20 years. Her past credits include Calvary Cross, Dead Snakes, Blood Moon Rising, Infernal Ink, This Ain't No Rodeo and many more.

Readers/fans may stalk her on facebook or her e-mail reddstar111@gmail.com


Calvary Song

I can feel it
I know it
In my soul
In my bones
I gotta answer
Fall to my knees
Before the glory of His wonder
I can't resist
Gotta give in

My every prayer answered
My every search found
In Him
I find myself
A winner
Forever and always
I gotta let that music
Carry me away
On a cloud of amazing grace

Here I go again
Rising up high
On a true feeling
Most eager student
Before my teacher
My father
Given me all
My heart does fall
Whenever he does
Call my name

Swept away
By the tide
Sweetest thing I ever heard
His voice
In my ear
Swearing eternal
All is forgiven, my son
So go on
Grow on
Pray on
Never looking back

The lessons I learned
At the knee of that
Sweet, sweet calvary song
My Jesus sang to me

2016 Ramona Thompson


Bruce Mundhenke- A Poem

The Shaking

Take some time to focus,
Consider where you are,
Trust the living God,
Not a shooting star.
Russia now in Syria,
Persia by their side,
Ezekiel spoke about this,
A long, long time ago.
North Africa in turmoil,
Turkey on both sides,
Iran scolding the Great Satan,
Pushing Europe all the while,
Everywhere suspicion,
Truces come and go,
The threat of war implied,
By maneuvers everywhere,
Those that have too much already,
Scheme to get some more,
And have come to the conclusion,
There are far too many poor.
Foul birds fill the branches,
But this was meant to be,
Soon we must be ready,
For the shaking of the tree.

Ron L. Hodges- Three Poems

"Ron L. Hodges is an English teacher and poet who resides in Orange County, California. Besides Calvary Cross, his works have appeared in Ancient Paths, A Time for Singing, and the 2015 and 2016 Society of Classical Poets Journal. He won first prize in the Society of Classical Poets 2016 contest."

“For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work.”
                                                                        James 3:16
You are the child
Who cuts another’s string
Instead of soaring his own kite
Into the open sky.
You are the woman
Who gorges on a buffet
Of celebrity destruction,
Then breaks her mirror.
You are the man
Who gnashes his teeth at inequality
Within a haze of torpid
You are the leader
Who fights for the little
Against the big
So you can be biggest.
You are the philosopher
Who convinces great men
They are small
But doesn’t grow himself.
You are the angel
Who fell to the earth
Because the universe was
Too immense.
You are the heart of the devil himself.
A Word for You
You never seem to listen anymore.
   Though I yearn to bare my inner secrets,
Pursue a closeness that will help you live,
   So many distractions get in the way.
Television—the phone—keeps you enthralled,
   While I sit, my leather getting dusty,
Silken undergarments untouched by eyes,
   Nubile—virile—just a museum piece.
Surely, I can’t remain so neglected.
   But do you even desire my presence?
We could, together, achieve anything—
   What can I do if you won’t heed my words?
      Well, I won’t leave; you’re the reason I’m here.
      Tell me to go, I’ll still show you the door.
Birthed by God: A Hymn
Every being is birthed by God,
And owns eternal parentage;
Yet many still give Fate the nod,
Nix His image?
Every face is formed by God,
But many mirror the devil’s grin;
And though for sin they may applaud,
What hides within?
Every heart is hewn by God,
But many beat for selfish aim;
And though for flesh their steps have trod,
Aren’t we the same?
Every mind is made by God,
But many turn their thoughts astray;
And when their arguments are flawed,
What should we say?
Every soul is shaped by God,
But many choose to flout this fact;
And when they scoff that faith is fraud,
How to react?
Since all of us are birthed by God,
There’s more than on the surface lies;
So look beyond the grim fa├žade
Through Heaven’s eyes!
For everyone is loved by God—
For this he sent His only Son;
And though like beasts we’ve daily clawed,
Through Christ we’re won!