"Thirty Silver Coins"

My pocket sags
—the weight of my plan

Jingle, jangle

A mob follows me
I know their intent
—And I agree

After all, he's wasted so much

Can't believe he didn't stop that...
     ...woman!
     That perfume!
     So many could have eaten
He deserves this

He's here, right where I expected
—excellent!
I greet him
—a friendly kiss

"Swords and spears?"
Violence! An ear!
He heals
He submits
We turn, they flee

My pocket sags
—the weight of my plan

Jingle, jangle

In the distance, a rooster crows
A soul moans
Some poor wretch is guilty

Guilty?
What have I done?
"Take it back!"

Clinkle, clangle

My pocket is lighter
My heart bears a millstone

I should have spilled my guts;
Instead, I'll hang my head
—and spill my guts

Dingle. Dangle.

"Poison Ivy"

Puffy,
Oily,
Inflamed
Skin—
Oh,
Nemesis...

Itchy
Vengeance
Yours!

"Boredom"

Bowed
Over,
Repeating
Endless
Doldrums
Of
Midafternoon

"Two Trees"

Two trees, twisted together,
Entwined, envined;
Appreciated, adopted, adored,
Called and caressed,
Held by the Holy;
Mystically, mercifully,
Evermore embraced

Two trees, twisted together,
Only other-focused;
Adorned as a
Beautiful bride
In Immanuel's
Divine dwelling,
Embraced evermore