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He Cried

He thought his friends were friends, but he was wrong.
Commoners that he trusted for so long
broke his brain, singing Sophocles' sour song
and pierced its rhythm in him like a prong.

A governor and king were both afraid
to say the final decision they made,
so, dressed in guilt, ordered the victim laid
before hypocrites he once could persuade.

Then with the tools that carpenters avail
themselves of, through his hands they drove their nails.
Upon their sea of sickness they set their sails
to sail far from the guilt upon their tails.

Risen like a king high above the crowd,
with hardly strength enough to cry out loud,
he, somehow, inexplicably allowed
himself to love those who would place his shroud.

Among the maddened crowds before he died,
he noticed men who once walked by his side
as, through the streets, upon his beast he'd ride,
and, this hurting more than the nails, he cried.

COPYRIGHT 2005 by Michael Bonanno LOC Reg. #TXu934-647

Reproduction of “He Cried”
or any part therein
without the express
written permission
of Michael Bonanno is
prohibited unless the
reproduction meets The
Copyright Act “fair use”
doctrine, (title 17, U. S. Code)..

If you read the About Michael page, you may have gathered that, at one time, I was a practicing Catholic and now I'm not. If that's what you thought, you'd be correct.

However, not only have I seen what I consider the folly of organized religion, I believe that I've come to the conclusion that there's not nearly enough solid evidence of the existence of a supreme being, an "intelligent creator", a god.

Unfortunately, a large portion of American society doesn't adhere to the philosophy of "live and let live". Without question, how someone worships, who someone worships and even if someone worships should be the business of that someone and not of anyone else. I certainly would never attempt to deny anyone the expression of their religious and/or spiritual faith.

However, I do not give financial support to any church or religious organization. If you go back to the second paragraph above, you'll see why I don't financially support any church or religious organization. That said, I would love to keep it that way. Of course, if my money is used to pay for any religious displays or activity or is used to subsidize the housing of any religious or faith based activity, I could only consider that as being support for that display or activity. By my money, of course, I mean my tax dollars.

There are many people who not only wish to use my money to support religion, but go way out of their way to try to "save my soul". I wish neither of those facts was true.

I wrote the poem above while I was attending St. Bernard High School in Montville, Connecticut. I was a believer then.

I ceased to believe when I was about 25 years old, but I continued to believe that there lived someone in what is today The Middle East around two thousand years ago who would be comparable to Martin Luther King or Mahatma Gandhi.

However, I've revisited the New Testament recently and found that the person whom I believed existed historically didn't just relay messages of peace and love. I'm not sure if I still believe in the man to whom people refer today as Jesus of Nazareth.

There will be more writing having to do with my perspective on religion and/or spirituality that will appear on this site. While I hope no one is offended by my personal beliefs, I also would like to know that, in America in 2005, one can believe or not believe as one wishes with impunity. As much as we speak of our fears of Islamic extremists today, I see a segment of the Christian population in America who seem to want to turn the U. S. into a Christian theocracy. I prefer that my country remain a secular democratic republic, thank you.

As you can obviously see, I still post and publish “He Cried”. The poetry is pretty good, in my humble opinion, and the subject matter is still relevant for many people.

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                                                                                                                            (and some other assorted foolish verses)