[Catherine McDonald]

Originally Posted by Janice D. Soderling

Not wild at all, Catherine. A very credible believer POV that cranks the poem up yet another notch. All that you mention is certainly there.

It makes the poem even more gruesome though. (For me.)

I'm not sure it's a believer POV. Who would be the believer? God the Father, God the Son? They would not need to believe, as they are believed in. I would hazard a guess that the writer is a non-believer—provided, I am even in the ballpark on the analysis, which I may not be at all. It's the perceived play between the writer and narrator within the sonnet form that amazes me. The writer has created all sorts of ways to get you to critically think about the narrative without, well, "preaching." At the same time he/she has given an account that can be taken as true to the historical narrative.

As for the "gruesome" have you read any Flannery O'Connor, particularly "A Good Man is Hard to Find"? She was a very Catholic writer. But if I did not have context and picked up that story, I might be inclined to call it a sick, psychopathic writing, or creepy. It's amazing! Horror writers and Catholic scholars both embrace her.

[Catherine McDonald]

Originally Posted by Mary McLean

Hmm, so the stale crib was in Bethlehem?.

I'm inclined to think this whole thing takes place the morning Christ has risen and the N. is referring to the tomb. Tombs are the final resting place (homes) of the dead. As Ross pointed out, "crib" is slang (hip-hop) for home or where you rest your body. However, not in this case. Sweet, I’ll leave you somewhere/ safe, I swear./Nearby. I'm now inclined to think is indeed heaven, at the N.'s right hand.

Acts 2:32-33 (KJV) This Jesus hath God raised up, whereof we all are witnesses.Therefore being by the right hand of God exalted...

Can't get much more safe and nearby than that now, can we? The more I read this poem, the more there there is there for me.

[Janice D. Soderling]

Yes, I love the work of Flannery O'Connor and "A Good Man is Hard to Find" (together with Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery") are never far from the surface of my mind.

A very impressive analysis you presented IMO. I want to say more, but won't derail attention from this excellent poem.

[Mary McLean]

I was wondering if the crib is Bethlehem in that God is justifying his behavior in incarnating his son to begin with? But yes, the Tomb is another possible reading.

[Janice D. Soderling]

Webster's first definition of "crib" is:

1. (n.) A manger or rack; a feeding place for animals.

The second is:
2. (n.) A stall for oxen or other cattle.

But I like the idea of "tomb" for that would be "stale air" since it is sealed for three days.

This little sonnet contains a lot.

[R. S. Gwynn]

A little too creepy for this reader (who has known to be creepy).

[Catherine McDonald]

You can also check the "crib" in the Urban Dictionary.

One more find:

– just to feel the long arm of a grown
man’s relief. I’d never do you wrong.


Besides the obvious, which refers back to the opening "get me off," there is a proverb from the 16th century that says "Kings have long arms." This has come to mean authority - long arm of the law. But, I like the king reference for Christ. Don't know if it was intentional, but it fits.

[Kyle Norwood]

It's impressive that the author has created two parallel, equally creepy narratives. But I also have to agree with Susan McLean in finding "the meter unpleasantly ragged and the enjambments often awkward."

[ross hamilton hill]

Kyle, I think the poem actually flows very well, but you need to read it several times and get the meaning, ( which is ambiguious) clear then the meter is OK, even quite clever.

Catherine, while I think you can give the poem a religious spin, the obvious meaning of the poem contradicts it in too many ways, especially the image of scratching the N's skin in self-defence, the fact that the crib is the N's crib, the strong attacment of crib to Christ's birth not his death, etc.
You can see all murders/deaths as a sacrifice, you could say the same about a T-bone steak (very symbolic).

[Catherine McDonald]

I'm afraid I have to agree that there are meter issues with this poem. At first I thought some people might be thrown off by the headless iambs, but it's beyond that. Lines 9, 12 and 14 do not scan properly for me. I think they can be repaired by eliminating the contractions in lines 9 and 12 and adding a "But" before "I'd' in line 14. However, these things should probably have been addressed before submitting. Three lines in one 14 line poem is a lot to be off by. Unless, my scansion is completely incorrect?

The line, until your nails/ tore ragged hours down my chest says nothing about skin. That's the way you are reading it, Ross, which is fine. But it's not there. I took chest to mean "heart." That's were pain is felt when the heart hurts. People who have heart attacks have chest pains not "heart pains." And God has been depicted as having a chest - on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, for example. But really, the hours are the focus here tore ragged hours. As I mentioned, Christ was nailed to a cross for three hours. Many Catholics observe those hours in silence to commemorate Christ's suffering. I was making the point that there is possibly empathy in the suffering, that his Father felt pain in seeing his son nailed to the cross for three ragged hours.

I want to see that T-bone poem!