The Dark Night of My Home

by Timothy St. John Malone

This poem appears in Vol. 1 #1 (Winter 1998) of Men's Voices journal.
 Men's Voices: So men can find their voices and speak their truths


I am the crucified one

Now, with arms outstretched

upon the white wall

of modern America.

Heavy heaving sighs, eyes

glazed and arching to your face

Oh God

I cry out my last breath

into the dark night.

Will I breathe another,

or, will final death free me

from the birth pangs of this falsely-lived life?

These generations flow through me

like victims screaming to be released from

a purgatory near Aschwitz.

Through me they do

what they failed to do in human shape-

And I, the conduit of their fears-

open heart to let the driving

Rain Pelt

The autumn sky of my fragile heart.

The suffering Servant walks the earth again

in the likes of me

and you.

Are you up for crucifixion-

or are you hanging back in the gallows, or

Running from the dark shadow of one

Heavy cross?

I hang up here, aching arms and ankles

yet I am given One more beautiful breath.

       © 1997 by Timothy St. John Malone

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