In the book of Job it is written,
“Man was born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.”
(Job 5:7)
Man made of dust,
lives to be flogged
for simply having skin
that can be broken into
however the misfortune
the instant earthly armor is struck
God balms us with medicine
to prevent demons like infection
from going in
Jesus is still Physician
and Healer
He wraps us up in His Body
He serves as Beautiful Gauze
put quickly over the stabbings
of our souls
weeping is not angry
His gentle tears wash
over us
cleansing each stripe
that was released
to get our blood
to speak against
our Saviour

There are stripes
without God
stripes that demand
immediate vindication
such skin blisters,
festers, and stores
pus up
infections set over
like madness
with prolonged
intensified tears
like knives raining
down on those in our
bitter frustration
turns hands into
without God
suffering turns
into sadism
and vain
little cuts
turn themselves
over and over
like a wreckage
and inward
and out
and outward
and in
flooding and
angry rivers
without peace
torrid rapids
whirling and
no living things
can survive
in injuries
that scream
to stay open
and refuse
and wounds
that sing
too long
turn into
deep ravines
with the passage
of time

There are folks
bent on chaos
and strange
allowing damaged
tissue to rule
over them
I’ve heard
of such folks
becoming slaves
to things that have
and they walk
with strange
and chests
that have not
been closed
hearts pumping
instead of in
and veins
all around
their arms
and legs
that won’t
release them
every movement

I’ve seen folks
with drowned faces
walking to town
pretending to still
the stripes run
down their
and cheeks
and their eyes
pushing you
before you can
greet them
and the stripes
are already
producing vomit
and I see their
throats thick
with pride
unable to praise
God even if they
and they like
their medals of
flesh rusting on them
and their pleasure is to
gripe and cut
other folks
with their
like chain saws
rattling and
in their mouths
How can they praise
Jesus with such a thing?

And stripes stick us
in the freezer
not to be thawed
and in the freezer
lives affluence
without God’s
and no one can
get near
ice cycles
not Jesus
and souls
can get so
they have to be
broken out of
and digging
humans out
of a slab of
boulder like that
chips more than

Some stripes are
and God removes
the things
we can no longer
touch with a
and some folks
would rather not
to run wild
with demons
they hunt
in packs
the very ones
God considers
and such wounded
snatch up our
without remorse
forcing their malignant
bodies on the Lord’s
newest creatures
unblemished little
whose scabs came
from being thrown
off of a swing
werewolves howl
and hunger
and starve
for a Holiness
they do not
really want
they substitute
their rotting corpses
for bodies just born
they know about
stealing innocent
instead of pure
instantly innocent
finds justification
in Heaven
traveling before
the Holy Throne of God
finding audience
at His feet
He weeps with baby
all soiled
by hatred and lust
and the violence
done it
He embraces little
blood and transfers
His own blood into
to give them a life
saving transfusion
their innocence is
by the Blood of Christ
He performs miracle
upon little children
intensely maimed
in this hallway called
a very modest and
skinny road
we have made
much bigger
with our pride
the angels must
joke, while
simultaneously weep
at our error
they know Heaven
to be an endless
liberated from clocks
and watches
we strap around
us like girdles
they know it to
be a mansion of
immense proportions
heaven is not caged
in by boundaries
physical or political
heaven is the whole sky
unlimited by our own
who have cut it off
like a snapshot
in our own minds
we too are more
than our photographs
or mere reflections
and we are
more than
our suffering

Just as Christ
is more
than the day
He placed His life
on that nail
He hung fastened
like a scarecrow
He is far more
than the modest man
suspended by His
own limbs
stripped of gashed flesh
opened to white
glistening bone
He is more than
the Messiah
the devil thinks
He ripped up
before our
very eyes

The disciples
must have
themselves raw
believing it
to be so
as I have
my chest
all up with
the anguish
of being stepped on
and stepped on
and crushed under
society’s big boot
and left underneath
for dead
a blood spot
on the ground
insignificant to some
a mere bug
the immensity of
seems more
than these
are able to carry
yet Jesus
has asked
us to contain
them in

The impossible
we are asked
to host
the murder
of loved ones
and illnesses
and the intensity
of finding cures
for them
the separation
of loved ones
the children
we have asked to
wake up without
fathers and mothers
and dress themselves
and nourish the holes
put there by the claws
and hoof prints
of others who
have no covering
and never did

I know it is alot
God has seemed
to ask of us
to put the whole
sea in a bottle
but the beauty
and eloquence
of the Holy Spirit
is that it fits into
whatever small
and cramped
it fits well into
these suits
God has temporarily
sewn us into
the healing
that comes with
Jesus who fits
into that abandoned
and bombed
out basement
where there seems
to be no more to nibble on
than the crumbs of the mice
but nibble away in trust
God fed thousands with
a few loaves and few fish

God does the impossible
He may come at a dark and
seemingly late hour
when He comes
He enters
the bombed out
chapel of our
and the crumbling
chambers of our
innermost desires
He sees our day
to day combat
with our struggles
and the thirsting
ache loneliness leaves
upon unloved mouths
and the torrid
of insecurities to keep
roofs over heads
and bread in tiny

He gets on a single and
Sovereign knee
to bring a mouth
without praise
and only cursing
without kindness
only selfishness
and He brings
those same thoughtless
and cracked places
and moistens them
richly with His
dignity and His
utter compassion
He stretches over that
rough and suffocating
and has divested
to pour the gift
of a weak and seemingly
simple body
over an entire world

Bleeding over London
He bleeds over Palestine
both Jew and Arab
and He bled between the Twin
praying with those
who were trapped
He has bled over Russia
the Iron Curtain
both by wrath and love
He laid His body over
Africa that expansive
His blood is raining
over China
saving millions
of souls daily
and He bleeds hour by
day by day
year by year
decade and
He has bled
an entire



Matty B. Duran

Joined July 2009

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 5

Artist's Description

We Love You Lord Jesus here on RB. We Adore You God. El-Shaddai, Elohim. Jehovah. Yahweh. We Trust, Love and Adore You! We accept Your Gift, of Your Only Begotten Son Jesus Christ this Christmas!

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Artwork Comments

  • Reynaldo
  • Matty B. Duran
  • trish725
  • Matty B. Duran
  • SherriOfPalmSprings Sherri Nicholas-
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