This is my Calvary
The pietà is over
I've walked the earth for thirty-two years
My mother never cried
My arms outstretched with violence
Ever spinning 'round my head in thorny blooms
I forgive Michaelangelo
The image of myself will be rent asunder
I forgive the prison guards
This, my world, is darkening
I forgive the passers-by
For they know not what they do.
I was listening to a podcast that mentioned Laszlo Toth, and his attacking the Pietà in St. Peter's Basilica in 1972. I didn't know much about the story and honestly still don't. Basically he was a crazy man who was under the impression that he was Jesus Christ, and went at the statue with a geologist's hammer. He ended up in an asylum in Italy and was eventually released to Austrailia where he still lives.
I suppose a man thinking he was the resurrected Jesus Christ attacking a statue of Jesus Christ and His mother was a powerful image for me, and that poem was the result. I'm not quite satisfied with all of it. There are things I'd like to add and some things I'd like to polish, but I suppose it's that way with everything we write.