Holy Thursday

Originally posted 3/21/2008; original title, “Thursday.”

you long ago said
“what if.”

now, you say
“I will.”

this is no longer
the argument
ahead of the contract;
this is the contract:

last words;
finger flung high;
grand illusion shrinking
as you speak.

you have opened the black door
to the black room.
you do not turn back.

wiping blood and grit from under your nails,
you ask yourself

if your words really 
put this sand in your gears.
what if it was there waiting all along?
what if the will you agreed to follow 
wasn’t yours? who set these things to work? 
who made this struggle? 

was it truly your words
that made this happen, or was it all ready to go
and simply waiting for you to begin?
wasn’t there someone before you who said
the word would be made flesh?

you find yourself outside yourself,
staring steadily at your flesh
taking those words to heart.

the contract has been sealed.
even if you could take the words back
you’d still be bound by them.

they were never yours to do with
as you wanted

but wanting
has nothing
to do with this.

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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