Here in Gethsemane

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Gender Female
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This is the end of a story I am writing. The last two lines from the two main characters Jess and Joanie and the poem.

Here in Gethsemane

“We okay Jess?”

“Yeah, Joanie, we okay.”


Here in Gethsemane
the lights hangs low
while darkness pursues the hope
that once shined in our
hearts

Here in Gethsemane
we call out your name
fighting the crucified
for a morsel of truth

Here in Gethsemane
your enemy is your neighbor
your nieghbor is your father
and your father spits on your
grave

Here in Gethsemane
we rejoice your sins
knowning the second chance
will make everything okay

Here in Gethsemane
release comes at a cost
tears dry on unrepeative hearts
and religion is lost in the words
of the priest

Here in Gethsemane
the beast is king
and the pryariah still
is shuned by all
Fraser: Stop stealing the blanket.
[Diefenbaker whines]
Fraser: You're an Arctic Wolf, for God's sake.
(Due South)

Hatter: Do I need a reason to help a pretty girl in a very wet dress? (Alice)

Got YWS?




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Gender Female
Points 890
Reviews 176
Definately different.
knowing the second chance
will make everything okay


I don't think that really fits with the other stanza's. It sounds too....breezy..I think you should re-phrase it so it fits with the language used in the rest of the poem. If that makes sense.

Apart from that, i think its good. Not your best work though.
"Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish,
A vapour sometimes like a bear or lion,
A towered citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory,
With trees upon't that nod unto the world,And mock our eyes with air.."




User avatar
Gender Male
Points 890
Reviews 131
Very nice. The feeling and description was nothing short of wonderful. I liked how you started with those last two lines from your story, gave the poem direction right from the start. Drew me in well too. A great read once again, CL. :wink:
Gone, gone from New York City,
where you gonna go with a head that empty?
Gone, gone from New York City,
where you gonna go with a heart that gone?



I love her dearly, but I can’t live with her for a day without feeling my whole life is wasting away.
— Miss Kenton, The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro