Nativity of an Illegal Poem, by Tristan Robert Lange, at My poetic side

It amazes me

to hear one say

“Jesus was no refugee.”

Splitting hairs, I see.

Sure, Egypt was in Rome,

And so was Palestine—

There’s the big D—

Fine, then sit with this:

A fugitive was he—

That’s right—

An “illegal” on the run.

No, I didn’t say

Immigrant, son—

An “illegal”, what fun.

You see,

Which ever way

Ignorance spins it today,

The good Lord above

Was never the love,

Bruv,

Of those in the guv.

Illegal for being born,

Forced out in the night

To escape a king’s scorn—

Just as Isaiah warned.

The antivenom to victor’s law.

His birth the signal, raw,

That pompous power—a flaw—

Would one day take a final blow

To its fucking jaw.

No, not through force,

Nor through getting tons of toys,

Nor by labeling them

Only for girls or boys.

Not by singing carols,

Or playing really nice;

Nor by baking stollens,

With cinnamon and spice.

Rather,

That blow comes

Through self-sacrifice.

Not just his; nay—

Though he paid the price—

Those who conspire with him;

For them,

Only rebellion will suffice.

First published on tristanrobertlange.com, December 23, 2025.

Tittu

Author: Tristan Robert Lange ( Offline)
Published: December 23rd, 2025 09:02
Comment from author about the poem: I’m now published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
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