Brushes and paint lie dormant
Dormant man – fighting infirmities
They call it lockdown…
As it ventures to catch your brain
Shaking-off the shackles
Of indolent’s stealth
At least the eye can lift itself
To look again
At the industry hand and brain has formed
Former works – done for me
For me it oft seems a lesser reward
Determined by the fickle browse of
Never a unanimous verdict
Only one short-lived before it is changed
I will give you them all
Only say the word
And my gallery is yours
But I must not let my hunger
For man’s empty praise
Cause me to sell this birthright
For a mess of pottage
LIFE IN PICTURES
My life flashes past me in photographs
Why do we keep these things?
My life is vaporising day by day
It appears for a moment
And vanishes away
It appears for a moment again
In these photographs – physically –
laid out on the floor
Now here it comes up
The emotional perceiving of friends gone
My life stops in front of me on paper
That person – loved and esteemed
In my life no more
And now it comes up – the lump in my throat
As the vapour stands still
In colour and black and white
All flat on glossy surface
As the light hits it – but absent friends – no more
Now they come up – the flooding memories
I perceive and lay aside
Never seeing much point in upsetting myself
All emotional within
Kiss them and put them away
My name will echo in days to come
Echo around the room of relatives still here
As the old photo album is reached for
And dad/uncle/friend/grandad is pointed out
In photos on the floor
And bang them though you will
And poke the video even more
Yet you will never materialise what has gone before
I’m gone – only flat-me remains
I smile out at you
You smile back at me – but you – I cannot see
Photos – photos – what use are you?
You can’t bring them back to my warm embrace
Photos – photos – I can see
Photos staring back at me
All flat and glossy though you be
Your premier production is a two
On a scale of ten-to-three
Nothing substitutes for time gone by
Nothing takes the place of the real you and I
Hug me quick – hug me long
Keep these moments – my life prolong
Thankfulness for time well spent
Loving all – thicker than water
You – are – right – now
I am right now
Dispense with the photos and jump together
Holding our embrace
Jump into inner space
Or hold forever all our love within
The end will come – but let us begin
Keep our love fresh – let me see your face
The smile and look – I know so well
I tick the box on the form
With indelible ink – I fix you before my eyes
I melt into you – and will never leave
As eternity is promised to those who believe
OUTSIDE OF IT
And if I was in the way of all fleshly culture
Accolades would come and offer themselves
I see through the mist of words coming my way
And look to the heart of the wordsmith supply
The mouth and the pen speaking the abundance of the heart
And they have their own secular priests in poetry’s halls of fame
And they applaud and visit the award ceremonies
And give them their time of day
And exult in their devises and words – great and swelling
And hanging on every word – they like their controversy
All give appearances of humility and ‘I don’t know’
But all think they do – in some held mystery
Best piano performers – as they press the keys of words
Their daily practice others perceive is a place too high
For mere mortal men – they miss how the ‘magicians’ do it
On the pedestal of applause they must get their fix
Who is in it for the money and the fame?
Yet words – as far as words go –
Oft find some harmony and balance
As the poets scratch their lines in the sands of time
I wonder at – all this jiving around –
For selling the soul – all is offered
In prison [through time and shackles worn]
Adulation or the promise of exclusivity and
Man’s empty praise
But I can only be an observer
When I take the time to look
A sideways glance at the vying for position
I am not a friend of this world
And need not their kingly throne
So says the man who wants to write a poem
So says the man
who hasn’t completely thought this through
Fame and fortune
The new eureka of utopia
All heads clambering for recognition
All choosers make their choice
Here today – gone tomorrow
All famous for 15 minutes
All grasping fame in youthful pursuit
All repenting at leisure
As damage is done
To heart and mind
As reeling to and fro
As shooting-up in desperation
Epidemic – paralleling a virus
Emptiness of emptiness
All is emptiness
Fame has failed
Fortune is gone
Finding purpose in some things
Crawling back to the ordinary
Then making their way back
The pop idol dissipated
Returns to the stage of fame
It’s all he knows
Abandoned for normality until
It reaches out it’s tentacles still
Re-captures and puts on display
The one who had clean got away
“Why am I doing this?” comes to mind
Looking for the pseudo-love substitute
For the deep need of all mankind
There once was a mystic who was into statistics
He discovered that people weren’t mystical at all
Most – answered the survey and confessed to being realistic
And although pessimistic –
Were optimistic about being atheistic
They loved to beat down the mystics who were ‘on the ball’
He tried to publish his statistics being a good mystic
Publish for the benefit of all
But he received a rebuttal from those – more linguistic
In their approach to the question of death
They cornered him and bullied him and hit him with words
But he managed to rise above it all
He left this world when his time had come
And now he sits where they can’t exist
…What with being atheistic an’ all…
The name of this blog – seedsinmotion – truth – n – art, summed up the way I wished to go in blogging.
I wanted to share the teachings of God’s Word and at the same time, remind us to embrace and enjoy life as it has been given.
Embrace it, for example, through enjoyment of art and writing.
False religion might suggest something different. In former times, visual art seemingly was rejected by some religious folks arresting the scripture that says:
4 Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.
Taking it out of context and failing to read the verse before it:
3 Thou shalt have no other gods before me.
Art is not here to be worshipped but certainly enjoyed.
The fact that mankind was created in our Creator’s image suggests to me that mankind should prioritise being creative. Expressing creativeness in various ways, whether in how they lay out their garden, decorate a room, sculpt, or paint etc.
A creative approach to life should be perpetually engaged in.
All without bowing down before any of it – and reserving worship to that same creator, maker of the heavens and the earth.
Let’s make things.
I initially in this blog, almost daily exposed my paintings to ‘the world’. It’s almost two years since I stopped posting my work, in such a prolific way.
Thereafter ‘Likes’ soon diminished, when I stopped. After all it’s easy to view a piece of art rather than patiently explore a written post.
My walk with God is the most important thing in my life. How could it be otherwise?After all…
For what is your life? It is even a vapour that appears for a little time and then vanishes away…(James 4/14)
…away into the arms of a Loving Saviour, if you are a friend of His.
This is how Stephen – a ‘vapour’ like the rest of us, left his body:
And they stoned Stephen as he was calling on God and saying, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”
God loves us so much – He so loved the world that He gave…. (Jn. 3/16)
God wants us to look into His personality and nature, and has provided The Word of God – to make that possible.
This brings me to another part of my seedsinmotion blog: TRUTH.
Increasingly TRUTH is an illusive ‘commodity’ in these days.
There has never been so much manifest confusion, in my lifetime.
How difficult it is to hear the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
It seems almost impossible to find it in the words of men. ‘Fake’ has almost replaced real.
Pilate stood before The Christ and asked the question: What is truth?
Pilate said to Him, “What is truth?” And when he had said this, he went out again to the Jews, and said to them, “I find no fault in Him at all…”
Standing before Pilate was the Personification of all truth and he (Pilate) couldn’t see it, he didn’t know it.
And he didn’t find the answer to his question. He did not find the truth, just like many thousands, as we speak.
So this exposes man’s dilemma. There is a blindness that is upon the minds of men. And the blind try to lead the blind – but all fall into the ditch of error and lies.
In this day and age – the biggest carriers of confusion seems to be the politicians on the big world stage.
They can’t agree on what the truth is.
There is so much inconclusive debate going on. There is so much that seems to be the truth, but with insufficient evidence to confirm it.
Indisputable evidence is often a slow train coming.
Meantime, failing to see their own inbuilt bias – many fail to see it is from their inbuilt-bias-held-views – that cause them to fall down on a particular opinion and to conclude it is true.
Even though it should not leave (as yet) the place of mere possibility or suspicion.
A man is innocent until proven guilty.
How about applying that rule to truth seeking?
Truth should be sought still – before randomly attaching the truth label to an unsubstantiated opinion.
It’s easy to conclude something as true for all kinds of reasons often because it feeds into and suits our pre-conceptions, or because it suits us to say it is true, even though it isn’t.
In emotional fervour it is easy to jump to the wrong conclusions.
Many, thinking ‘it’ to be the truth – actually believe a lie.
Christian truth overflows the Bible. I trust it because it is God’s Truth and it makes us free.
It is the only thing on earth to be trusted completely, more than any other writings or any other person.
So I write my seeds of truth.
But also poetry, which can be fictitious, observational, or whatever, and because it is fiction – well, that’s the only time it doesn’t have to be true, in the strictest sense, – is it not?
Maybe each piece of poetry, needs an explanatory proviso, or do we all know, fiction can be true or false?
Fiction can be make believe, and is acceptable, because the author is not trying to deceive us in the real world?
True art is simply an individuals self-expression, i.e. true to themselves. That’s enough for it to be genuine (another idea of true), without plagiarism, but, in my opinion, not necessarily communicative of a given truth, or absolute truth.
Seeds of biblical truth, truth spoken in love, and art – painted, written and spoken poetically, that’s my ‘manifesto’.
REPENTANCE FROM DISMAY
Now I’m all geared-up for the last round-up
Hoping it lasts for years
All stood up am I
Looking with peeked hand against the sun
The heat of battle does not draw any enthusiasm
One might say: ‘avoid – avoid – avoid’
Run to the wings – stay out of the fray
Who ever liked the fray anyway?
But lifting the flap of my bag of words
I daintily choose a few – where to throw them?
Where to grow them?
Will you know them? –
and really get – what they say…?
Ah ha!? – it’s fallen-man’s dilemma
You never understood me – I never understood you
We never understand –
there is none who understands
Do you ever get my gist?
Stop there – take a pause – as one does…
Re-write your thought life
See what you will find – unwind – de-complicate
Re: Your established portfolio – look again
Try to see in a new way the thoughts
you’ve entertained everyday
For how long is it now –
as you keep your parameters in place?
When you decide you might be wrong
Turn this way
Listen long enough – study hard enough
With furrowed brow – try to give it a chance
i.e. the gospel of repentance from dismay