I.

Twenty-nine coins of “precious” silver,
thrown to the floor; grovel if you want.

The thirtieth I used to buy this rope.
And now here I stand beneath this tree, 

this heavy branch; I step up on this stool,
wondering how it ever came to this.

​

I am Iscariot.
          This is my story.

​

 

II.

When the Master called, I dropped my nets
and walked away; I gladly followed him.

For these three years I have been called Apostle;
I have been his faithful proselyte.

“I will give up everything I have,
make whatever sacrifice you ask.”

That is what I told him. 
          Little did I know. 

​

So just imagine my bewilderment,
my shock, despair, when he pulled me aside

to tell me how his plan was to unfold,
and how his ministry would culminate.

To maximize his impact on the world,
for ancient prophesies to be fulfilled,

there had to be a martyr.  He himself
must suffer execution, crucifixion,

and there would be a role 
         that I would have to play.

​

​

III.

Peter was his favorite I think.
          Stupid Peter!

He always seemed to put his foot in his mouth.
The coward! Last night when the chips were down

he bellowed out, “I am not one of them.
I swear I do not even know the man!”  

​

          (cock-a-doodle-doo….)

​

He’d been called Simon; Jesus changed his name.
“Upon this Rock I’ll build my church.” He said.

Some rock he is! 
           Some sturdy rock!

​

I’m told my brethren, Matthew, Luke, and John
have already begun to draft their gospels.

And why is it that Mark was singled out
and given secrets no one else could know?

Oh, how he smirked! 

                                  And Philip, James, or Thomas – 
was I not as faithful as them all?

In his eyes,
          evidently not…

​

 

IV.

So I was made to connive with the Romans – 
Pilate and all of his despicable minions – 

and to accept that bag of bloody money
(Silver??) as if that somehow might appease.

When I kissed his cheek, I whispered, “Rabbi,
tell me why it has to be this way.”

He didn’t answer, but said for all to hear,
“Why must you betray me with a kiss?”

​

 BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO, 
          THAT’S WHY!!

​

 

V.

And now, my name will live in infamy,
eternally synonymous with evil:

Judas the betrayer – Judas, traitor!
It was not supposed to end like this.

So I will toss my rope over the branch,
and wear the noose, and kick away the stool.

Lord, I know of your great sacrifice.

​

Well, this is mine. 
          I hope it is eno-