I sat down…

I sat down…

I sat down to stillness

Stillness before the fingers tap the keys

Let the natural brain find it’s course

To run a race of hurdling words

Or gathering a bunch to make the statements


The last will and testament of mankind

Written all over the world

On hearts of flesh – in chaos and confusion

The creator undermined incessantly

While man holds his ears and cries out

In pleasure or confusion

Not knowing whether to run and hide

Or run for the hills

Out all night on the hillside


I see – on a stroll through the town

The vagrant’s-assembly of smoke

And alcohol taken

To numb the mind and

Charter a course of no return


‘Futility!’ cried the preacher and all still cry

Some with a suppressed-cry all muffled

Below their belly and gut

See a man – head in hands like Vincent’s drawing

Sorrow encroaches on each brow

Whether – well-heeled sorrow –

Or homeless vagabond in dismay


What vision will lift their life?

What hammer will break the chain?

And launch all to the sea of bliss?

What voices still speak and rage and agonise?

What hope does the mere politician-man offer?

As he tries his best while others know better

What speech will he make now

In his short-lived season?

Is there no word back from the front?

Is there an armistice day to lift the gloom?

“What shall we do?” – some did even ask

Is there a better tomorrow for a stare-mad world?


Questions have formed from the tapping fingers

As stillness returns

A half formed poetry – of snippets

A fully formed stillness comes

At the gentle touch of the Divine

I find no other hope on this side

You too may look and

Make the mistake of trusting in feet of clay

Erecting your idol Dagon and watching it fall to pieces

While you expect the real God to conform

To your limited outlook and appraisal

Abandon now all your cogitations

And fall upon The Rock

And call upon the same…

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