Category Archives: writing

Poetry or football?

Poetry or football?

He was going

to make some poetry 

He stood staring

hand on chin/mouth

studiously thinking 

about

What he would say

Anyway

he went on his way

To his little room

and banged some keys

Producing

and reproducing

Letters words and phrases

on pages

Pacing himself

in semi-rush

with pauses

Contemplations

and elations

liking some – hating most

Stopped for Sunday roast

Climbed back into that chair

the one with the spare

neck brace

Was a bit of a disgrace

he couldn’t keep up the pace

And got lazy

And wrote no more

Out the door

onto the grass for

a kick-about

Rising Up

RISING UP

Rising up to climb the hill

Thinking he was going to a superior place

Where the wind would challenge him to fall

Hands in pockets as though that would help

He ascended with momentary pauses

The landscape increased it’s comprehensive vista

But his expectation diminished

As no rainbows appeared

No community of little people scurried about

To Gulliver-ise him with their ropes and stakes

No beanstalks about

No wooden horses of Troy

Not a different thing did appear

Just grass and shrubs and stones

And imagination

Back and Forth

BACK AND FORTH

Once long ago I stood in the street

And heard the coal-train-trucks clinking together

Coal transported – as I am transported

– Back

I looked long ago at the Gas Tower

Grey and brooding in it’s changing shades

I shake myself – all is gone – I’m back to the

– Present

In times gone past I ventured over the bridge

Homeward bound – with sideburns and hair

And an insulated world of music and fashion my

– Adornment 

I look at the children now

And know they must make their journey

To the land of memories-recalled and

– Contemplated

Like I do now

 

Normalising Sobs

NORMALISING SOBS

There’s the older guy to the younger woman wed

Helping each other through their daily tread

‘Treading the boards’ is the old-fashioned lingo

But Hollywood calls and to Hollywood they must go

Good at their craft it must be admitted

As they live many lives in character depiction

Times apart, – they agree – relieves any friction

Partners for good – one hopes it is so

The glamour and glitz won’t tell them this – though

Holding their family together – money is the prize

Finance has barricaded-them-in

Bringing life to a manageable size (?)

Trying for normality now

Fame and fortune a brigand who robs

But it’s compensation normalising their sobs

‘A long and healthy life’ they say

As they tread those boards in another Play

Setting all things off against each other

Weighing it all up – a lifestyle of ‘colour’

They decide they are in – for the long haul

Until they make a mistake and drop the ball

The paparazzi move-in for the kill

Choking the wounded with their bitter pill

CHING-CHANG-CLANG

CHING-CHANG CLANG

There’s a ching-chang-clang of heads

In this world of opposing trends

And everybody knows they’re right

While no one knows their plight

And in this – bang crash zoom – swirl

Of opposites that make up a world

You’ll find a world gone wrong

Bringing their mistakes together in a throng

Of mishmash misshapen ideologies

In a storm of verbal cacophonies

As taking sides is the trend

One wonders will it ever end?

All social media outlets

Invented to give display

To the countless tendencies in array

All longing for satisfaction and traction

And stumbling they fall into mismanagement

Of all their brain power devices and judgement

Many grope in the dark for an exit

Shooting-up to kill the pain

And failing to see

You must be born again

The day it went away…

THE DAY IT WENT AWAY

The phantom aggressor with his Covid name-tag

Gains Purchase on the flesh of man

 

And all is lockdown

Lockdown – the new word

In newly found context

as we all go to ground

 

Never this before

Never known as is

Never catered for

No cure as yet

 

Twiddling thumbs don’t know what to do

Now indoor searchings – seeking to find

New pursuits or old revived

New noticeability of things always there

Appreciation increase everywhere

 

But time wears away resolve taken

As principles are embraced or forsaken

What wins the day – does patience reign?

Or has depression set-in – new ground to gain?

 

Stirrings as by others inspired

Walkers and keep-fitters

Show us the way

Crafters and artists give us their day

 

And on the front line

The brave and constant stay

To provide management and show us the way

Families stay at home

Locked-in or walks in the park

Dodging each other – this stepping aside lark

Others – into closets they run and hide

Television on – most of the time

 

Latest reports gossip and rhyme

News and contradictions and opinions sought

Fermenting anger as jobs are lost

Exasperation but what can we do?

All shut-down – shops, cinemas and zoos

 

Slowly but surely

Except for rule breakers

We emerge from submerge

And seek to embrace the day

The day Covid went away

Strange Times

STRANGE TIMES

It is an understatement to say that we are living in strange times.

Most will agree with such a description. But many will differ in what they consider strange.

Christians will view all that is happening from a spiritual standpoint, and/or an eschatological one.

Others perhaps will consider it strange for a number of reasons such as: job losses, economic catastrophe, domestic abuse, separation from loved ones, absent schooling for children, holidays frozen, limited travel, restricted eating out, unopened venues and so on…

Some might wonder at the many uproars and upheavals across the planet culminating in bombings, killings, riots, violence, never mind Covid-19.

Others find it unbelievably strange when integrity seems to be a thing of the past, exemplified by fake news where the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth is hard to find. In some cases impossible.(?)

Strange times indeed.

Same-sex marriage, increased abortion, acceptance of sex between members of the same sex, increase in sex-change operations – could all be added to many peoples list – Christian and non-Christian.

There’s an old song that has the lines: ‘What’s it all about – Alfie?’

Indeed – so we might ask, whether we ask Alfie or not.

From a non-spiritual point of view – what is going on?

Do the non-religious want us to conclude that it is just the species evolving?

For those who don’t accept that there is such a thing as SIN – we ask “How else would you describe it”. ‘It’ being the bitterness, hatred, the retrograde morality, – the list is proverbially endless.

Perhaps some would look on all this ‘strangeness’ and with a shrug of the shoulders, assure us that mankind is basically good, and that this pandemic has produced more of a ‘community spirit’.

None of us however has any idea of the depths of depravity that is taking place on the planet. Some on the front line, are more aware than the rest of us – e.g.: the modern slavery pandemic, less referred to than for example, the racism against black people.

Regardless of what aspect of the ‘strangeness’ we highlight, in a nutshell – evil is increasing, and we don’t know the half of it.

But many carry on without considering Christ’s answers.

And if there is such a thing as sin (self-evident in my view) – then there needs to be a solution. And just wanting one isn’t enough – that doesn’t begin to cut it.

But the strange thing is that many of the formerly held views of normality that rejected things which are now being accepted, are being cast aside and labelled as intolerant views.

Our theme is the ‘strange things’ happening on the earth – the strangeness of which is further underlined or added to, by the held view that some see it as mankind advancing in mental prowess.

In other words, the existence of the view that man is advancing, makes things even stranger.

Bob Dylan’s lyric goes like this –

People are crazy and times are strange

I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range

Many of us are locked in tight at the moment, and out of range of the strangeness coming upon the earth.

A lot of the strangeness boils down to the idea that it  is impossible for mankind to REGRESS. The foolish idea that everything different is automatically progress.

And that anything new must automatically be right because it is new, not because it is right.

Something is needed that works against sin.

And now I cannot escape the spiritual solution:

In the words of the apostle Peter in Acts chapter 2:

40 And with many other words he testified and exhorted them, saying, “Be saved from this perverse generation.” 41 Then those who gladly received his word were baptised; and that day about three thousand souls were added to them.

It is more difficult to find things in a blinding storm. 

Yet the need to be rescued increases as the storm increases.

A haven is sought. Where peace can be found.

The strange madness is both subtle and obvious. The solution for each individual is both obvious and hidden.

Prayer is the door – into the ark that we can’t see for the storm. In that sense it is hidden.

Jesus said “I am the door…”

In the midst of this strange storm encompassing the earth – look for the door that leads to eternal life. Life in this world and life in the next.

The door is obvious. But many can’t see it for the storm. Christ is the door:

John 10:9

I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture.

What He said, has been with us for a long time, as recorded, and must be returned to, if we are to find sanity in the midst of this madness.

For those who have not yet prayed the prayer that leads to Christ, and for those who have, the following is a reminder or an offer:

II Timothy 1/

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

A sound mind individually – leads to a sound mind corporately or communally.

Only the mind of The Son of God found in all the words He has given, can begin to address the strangeness of minds gone astray.

Christ is the answer to the need of mankind. Study His mind by studying His words, and actions to find out how things should be/could be.

The Commuted Life

The commuted life

We will just carry on this way

Twisting and turning down roads of dismay

Aghast to some degree

Flummoxed and all at sea

Bouncing our conclusions off hearing ears

All pierced-through with inconsistency and tears

All amiss – we still insist

That we are right – but don’t know what to do

 

Run and hide in ‘ordinary life’

Daily rituals – things we must address

Keep focused on survival to avoid the mess

 

A Philosopher comes to address our mind

A Doctor our physical frame

An alternative practitioner does the same

A policeman says: ‘Get in line’

A psychiatrist  says: ‘You will be fine’

A football manager gives his reason

A soccer star injured and out for the season

 

‘Life’ – they call it

As we all commute

Not enough hours in the day – to waste

Hobbies – (a horrible word) – to indulge

We hear of friends the newspapers have disgraced

Increase in suicide – brains emaciated – 

Normality lost or misplaced

 

There’s that man on the street corner again

Preaching a message with a fervent face

‘Christ is the answer’ he was heard to say

But his message is lost as it’s done in the old-fashioned way

The communist shouts:

“Communism can put a new suit on this man!”

pointing to the vagrant on the street – with his hand

The preacher responds:

“Christ can put a new man in the suit!”

 

That’s today’s interruption over –

as you make your way

Past the small crowd on display

The street corner preach follows you to the train

Until you open your lap-top once again

Best to see the Stockmarket score

Best to forget and ignore

anything to do with challenge and change

I will return home and re-arrange

The furniture – it’s due a move

I see my goal as a decorator – to DIY improve

Then lie back and lounge after my weekend work

Dosing and day-dreaming I awake with a jerk

Night sleep ruined – you toss and turn

Catch the train again the next day

Slumber and train-sleep but never pray

Bullies fallen

BULLIES FALLEN

You’ve seen it –

up through the years

In different scenarios – in different spheres

Starting at school – in the playground

At the milk break

 

Afterwards as school bags are tossed around

Teenage cheek – putting others down

No thought for feelings received

In Bullish-idioms claiming to be ‘the man’

Tarnishing reputations on demand

 

You’ve saw it for yourself as you have observed

“Who asked you anyway…?” they say

Dishing out commands

 

In the present company – jostling for position

The bully – bull-nosed and bulldozed…

Stamps his personality upon the crowd

All know and step away – none step-up to stand-up

 

But here is a young lad called David ready to at least try

He throws his stone and it lodges near the eye

The bully falls and the immediate ground doth-tremble

David beheads – the giant demonic-assailant

And cries: ‘To God be the glory – not I!’

ON BOARD

ON BOARD

Hello! – Hello!

Anybody out there?

Can anybody hear me?

So goes the cry to the…?

 

Those who heard – did not heed

Those who didn’t hear could not know

‘What’s this about?’ asked the curious

Others laughed

 

Like rising steam on a mirage day

In sight – outa sight

Tremors of sound

As the words go forth

 

They will be received

And rejected

“Get on board little children

Get on board”

 

Some will leave

in the twinkling of an eye

So said Ken…

SO SAID KEN…

That person – you know the one…

The one you passed-by en route to another place

You caught their name

Especially their first –

Such inventive parents to have named them so

 

Is this only in America – ?

Is it the only place where the titles are replete

With such wonderfully-concocted variations?

Not just a Bill or a Sam or a Jill or a Tom

 

Press any subject and go search online

Find the credits descending your screen

And see the names in-between

Great names with a spring in their step

 

To name a child – they may thank you later

But they may not

And revert to some foreshortening by choice

 

So said Kenneth?

Never –

So said Ken…

What will become of us…?

What will become of us…?

They’re on the move

From the romantic hitchhike to the bus terminus

They’re on the move – dodging the traffic

to cross the busy thoroughfare

They’re on the move with rush-hour sidesteps

and train doors closing

 

Strangers in the day and the semi-night

Eye meets eye from time to time

And turning away it wonders why…

 

Some long to engage their speaking faculty

Others speak when not spoken to

It takes a lot

But some – come to that place

Where they will make their complaint

embarrassingly

 

Some see it their duty to give that word of direction

Some fight to do so with interruption and

A fuller explanation

to the lost or stranded holiday-maker

Making their holiday difficult for themselves

 

But now crowds on-hold staying at home

Only a memory – remembered

now a frantic search:

‘What will become of us?’

Jobs gone – future put on-hold

‘What will become of us’ –

as they ease down into the sofa again

Flick through the phone

Flick through the channels

Rising and falling in human mood-swings

Trying to stop time

But it won’t stand still

The inner-life withdraws

To the catacombs of self

Purpose found in identity’s home

No more activity in outward display

No more making money

Identity slipping away