Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Day 12: Space between the Temple and the Time.

Sorry, I'll get around to putting verses up again.  This is Very loosely based around the good Samaritan story and the cycleway near my house, a great walk in the evening where I have never yet felt alone. very loosely.


In The Space Between The Temple And The Town.

Along the track - tar black
And washed out sunken green fringe -
Where the harbour slapped against the stones
I walked along the twilight ridge.

A biker who passed me -
Whisper of a rubber tire tread -
Was swallowed by swaddling blanket night
Propped by a solitary lamp above my head.

Then the harbour disappeared
In Darkness, then the silent tomes
Tolled; city, sea and hills were gone;
I was alone.

I was not robbed, jumped, mugged, attacked
But I could've used a friend then.
In the whimpering camomile, flickering light
Oh, I could've used a friend.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Day 11: Perspective

Day 11.  Verse and etc coming soon.  Heh, I've caught up with the backlog I had stashed in advance.

   Perspective.

Walk in and see me standing on the roof
"Beware" I say, the pharisee's flaw
But you think "it is because we have no shoes"
The curtain keeps you out.

Come, come join me on the roof
(But you are far too scared you'll hit the floor.)
Oh ye of little faith, why do you doubt?
Is not this my house?

I'll tear the curtain from me to you
To let you through, to let you up
Five thousand can eat, and not understand
Five thousand shod, and still want proof.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Day 10: post moving or Untitled.


Sorry, I can't publish what would've been day 9.  It got into a writing competition.  Woo!
so straight on ahead instead.
I've lost the verses exactly, but its from the parable of the sower.  Some seed on path, some on thorns, some on rocks, that sorta thing.  Hope you enjoy.


Untitled.

Sometimes it feels like I’ve fallen among weeds
A small patch of blue sky above me squeezed
Which by pure human luck I happen to look up
As it shrinks, a small plate, a smaller cup
Then I reach my hand through as if we could touch
But that’s motivation enough.

Sometimes it feels like I’ve fallen onto stones
And no probe goes deep enough to feel like home
And the next attempt will wither, and drain
Enthusiasm evaporating like desert rain
Leaving only complaints that the grounds too rough
But that’s motivation enough.

Sometimes it feels like I’ve fallen onto the world.
Battered by feet and snatched at by birds’ claws.
Like I’m deaf and blind – or will not see.
That I am all that matters to me
But I can’t bear anyone to call my bluff
And that’s motivation enough.

Occasionally I feel briefly I’ve fallen
Onto rich and fertile land
And the heavens are within my reach
As sycamore, mustard, cedar or beech
It never lasts long enough to add too much
But that’s motivation enough.