Category Archives: futile

Advanced Regression

ADVANCED REGRESSION

Dancing – advancing leaps and bounds
“Comparatively speaking”
I hear no one say

Mankind has embryo’d – and stem celled –
and conjured with his DNA –
and experimented and concluded –
and thinks to have found a way

For with his knowledge increase
He hopes to take away all defeat
And per-fect himself –
when new ways are found

Stoned on his success
He ignores the dismay

Of a world gone further wrong
In a multitude of ways

He thinks –
To Increasingly solve corruption’s claim
But makes the same
mistakes
over and over again

What’s been done –
compared with what has not?

What’s been achieved
pales before the mess
civilisation has got

There’s need for the realisation
That man won’t reach self-perfection
But those puffed up with knowledge
Will rise in reaction
With a self-styled salvation

Rejecting they think
‘pie in the sky’
for ‘meat on the plate’

But God’s handiwork is found
profound – all around

The maker’s hand that made it all
plain to be seen without a doubt

No written guarantee –
for an extra charge
will assuage corruption
Rather:

”Mountains fall on us in our fears”

The day has come for a
A wake up call perhaps too late

As the supersonic – stem-celled world
totters on its wobbly legs of achievement
and the world is folded up like a garment.

Don’t take away from the good it can bring?
Indeed no – but there is always too far to go.

Stop and think it over:
Mental blindness –
Ostrich head in the sand
Achievements seduction

millions annihilated –

while we speak
and still
don’t understand.

Can’t bring back

CAN’T BRING BACK

They couldn’t bring themselves
to a higher way of life
Like stair steps whether coming up
or going down
Up-down – like some leg exercise
in mental gymnastics

Holding still – to some meditation ideas
from early new age-ism
Now long abandoned
apart from a cursory glance
of acknowledgement
from time to time,
maybe when a news item
made a reference to such.

Still settled though – on old vinyl records
and memory reels of the swinging decade
Residues of long hair and flower shirts
Beads and on-shoulder braces
Bell-bottoms buried in closets –
too tight by now

Still leaning though – on elbows
and perusing old books
of Carnaby street ‘followers of fashion’
You can’t stick a dart through
these old things
to freeze your life into the past

“Who are these ancients?”
the younger do ask
The last generation – two back from here
Life for them would never disappear
Held up in heroic contemplation
But gone – long gone –
fold away your reminiscences
and retire to the lounge…

You won’t bring this back –
It’s not around
‘Cause time has moved on
to harder times
Even with eclectic mixes
And so forth and so on
All must accept – memories
don’t bring things back
So best to have perpetuity
pressing towards
the mark
for the prize of the high call…

Questions

QUESTIONS

What’s in a poem?
What’s in a few lines?
Is life full of new poems?
Full of new lines?

Now you have answered
that question

I call into question –
questioning
Questioning natures –
all shuffling –
clanking together like
freight train trucks
question one – question two
How many questions
before
we are through?

Questioning this and
questioning that
Questioning seems to be
all that we’ve got

You have just resolved
your query
about that bitter pill
next in line – a question – still

“Ask me another…” she said
That’s how we started when
questioning our mother

The questions are higher
and loftier now
They hang in the air –
no experts dismantle
their infinite ponder

I wonder
– as you do
what other questions
are due?

With a sigh and a chew
we ponder
the ‘way up yonder’

Looking for a roll that is called
There’s a Lamb’s book of Life
To contemplate
To gaze on
Seeking the answer to our state

The questions
you question
but see no way through

The answers – we miss
as we pass them by
staring us in the face
We swallow them whole

We prefer more
questions
than the answers
He sought to bestow

Unsettled minds –
cannot rest
on answers
– at their best

Conclude we must
For tomorrow we die
The gravestone’s answer:
here you lie

Yet still the questions
carry on

I would suggest to you
the questions will stop
at the buffer zone

The answer and the question
will both be gone

Through the glass darkly
we see…

The filing cabinet
of questions galore
spilling onto the floor

Questions in limited repose
giving birth to new, I suppose

Members of
the question family
crawling before they walk
trying to answer the anomaly

Questions are good
or not appropriate
and bad
When it comes to
matters of faith

Faith by His word
can be found
Answers triumph over
those who are
‘question-bound’

One more question
Before I go
Will you let answers
enable you to know?

Or again I say…
again I say…
Do questions –
not answers –
make your day?

Top of the world?

TOP OF THE WORLD?
(the Lotto winners mindset)

Top of the world
You hear me say
Life is a blast – I’m on my way
No stopping now
No weight on my shoes
Reaching for the heights
Penthouse apartments to choose
No holding back, doing my thing
Money rolling in for material bling
Rich man poor man for better or worse
I’m Getting it all together spilling the purse
Dancing the night away – gold rushing in
For Anything I’ll spend – just giving in
Fad or fancy, spending spree
Money thrown here there everywhere I see
I’ll have one of those and one of those and…
New suits, new shirts, new clothes
Brand new house to occupy me
All guests welcome, please stay for tea
Generation X or something like that
Couldn’t care what I spend, as a matter of fact
Its not running out – as the lotto has been won
No time for anything just having fun
Serious thoughts? Seriously what do you think?
Merry heart medicine to Eat and drink
Hold on a minute – don’t make me cry
Life is more than money you say?
How come? – when it brings all this – hey!
You try to dampen my enthusiastic cash
You try to stop me having a bash
Im too preoccupied to give it a second thought
That life is short and I’m not what I ought
I can’t figure it out, so spend I must do
With this lotto money, spend ’til it’s through
One day I will die and not take it with me
Well sure I know that, but meantime we
Can ignore sound advice
Spend it – on all kinds of vice
Sorry I’m in a hurry can’t stop now
I’ve a plane to catch, to my cash demands
I must bow
You’re trying to talk sense you exclaim…
Talk to me tomorrow – it all sounds so lame
Off to a tropical island where I have a date
I throw caution to the wind and leave it to fate
No analysis of the situation, its under control
I meet every need with my endless bank roll
The moral of the story – you’re going
to give me one?
You keep trying to stop me with incessant interruption…
So I will save you the trouble, there’s no need to persist
The story ends badly
I escape eternal bliss.

Luke 10:
24 The disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus said again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.

Vanity of the futile night

POEM
VANITY OF THE FUTILE NIGHT

Your little bit of glory in the futile night
Transgressors bubbling over
  into the outer darkness
Are allowed to keep their little bit of glory
  in their futile night…

“Vanity of vanities”, said the preacher
Beware of the glory of the futile night

Will any be of the day –
  by inheritance of the light?
That lights every man in the world
  of the futile night.

Reach out for the light
  before Grace passes by.

They cleave to the vanity of the futile night
  unattracted by anything other…

…Other than –

the vanity of the futile night

Glimpse, also, struggling humanity
grasping for deliverance, grasping
‘under the influence’ of the futile night

in response they say…

“Can I even give this a moment’s thought?
These strange words – and turns of phrase
What is that to me? – see to it yourself
You and your ‘vanity of the futile night’…”

“What baloney”:
(content of inferior or dubious quality)
the estranged minds will conclude.

‘Few are they that find’
Preferring the vanity of the futile night

And if we hand out hope
It is poison to the lovers of night

No light they see…
Only the light of darkness
Darkness of the futile night.

……………………………….
Luke 11:35
Be careful, therefore, that the light that is in you is not darkness.