[Proverbs 18:13
To answer before listening—
that is folly and shame.]

Listen -

no matter how impregnable
or how tall the border wall
how faint their call
no matter how great the chasm
between you and them
between your point of view
between your world view
and where they have taken their pew

- Listen

don't write them off
as blinkered
as closed minded
as none-so-blind
and don't be so quick
to assert you're the more
20 20 vision kind

- Listen

don't shame them
or be all too ready to belittle them
don't be dismissive of them
with no respect for them
and for what has led them and theirs
to their honestly held position

- Listen

assume their good faith
and in a space that's safe
assume a position
of good natured
mutual consideration
and seek mutual revelation
of God-given wisdom

-Listen

and as you clear
that common ground
you are bound to build
a safer compound
a creator-shared hallowed ground
where the heard are found
while bound for wisdom
together

Welcome iron on iron
and words to the wise
Accept kind rebukes
and reject foolish lies

Sit with your father
Listen to your friends
Review what you're seeing
through a God-given lens

Get in the habit
of accepting hard advice
and soon you too will be
counted as one of the wise

Kiss
Dry
Try
Miss

Kiss
Wet
Met
Lips

Listen and Learn
from
Insight and Wisdom
giving
Instruction in Prudence
producing
Knowledge and Discretion.
With thanks to
Mother's Inspired Utterances.

When is a stray fleeting thought
a senseless young fool's distraction?
And when is my sudden idea
a true sage-like inspiration?

No weight of long experience
No number of tried and tested
No diet of **** it and sees
seem to provide me true wisdom.

But then I slow and I listen
I daily make time to wait
I consider what it is that God has to say
and Wisdom opens her gate.

[Proverbs 4:6
Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you.
Proverbs 7:4
Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” and to insight, “You are my relative.”]

Do we really need
all the friends we can get?
Are we truely better off
not knowing?
Will it all work out
when we get to the end?
And do we need to get tough
to get going?

I prefer to listen,
I'm learning to wait
and hear from she who is wiser.
I've made some mistakes,
but I'm learning from those
who trust the Word as adviser.

As I sit and I read,
as I ponder and pray
my sisters begin to make sense.
My sister is Wisdom, my sister is Insight,
my first and next line of defense.

Do we really need
all the friends we can get?
Are we truely better off
not knowing?
Will it all work out
when we get to the end?
And do we need to get tough
to get going?

Each dent should lessen the value,
but curiously deepens character.

When the Spirit's around
- that's the third of the Three -
He regularly raises
fresh questions for me:

The sought and the seeker
the truth and the teacher
the help and the helper
the gift and the giver?

The breath and the voice
the chooser, the choice
the anointer, the oil
the peace and turmoil?

The joy and the cries
always there to baptise
the bearer of fruit
with fresh gifts to boot?

As wild as the wind
He'll breeze where He will
I've tried to contain Him
but He won't remain still.

I won't ever define Him
or assign Him a lable
just accept He's my God
and that my God is able

to be true to His Word
while resisting defining
He'll still leave me questions
but that's not surprising.

He kicked off creation
was around from the start
and I'm just the latest
to play my small part.

The kinetic energy
contained in this resting pencil
will soon be let out
in accelerated shouts and whispers
and the odd word of wisdom.
Just wait.
You'll see.

Jesus didn't hand you solutions.
Jesus didn't give you your answers.
Jesus asked YOU the questions.
Jesus was and is your answer.

He is the Way the Truth the Life.
He is the River the Bread the Light.
He is the Shepherd the Gate the Vine.
He is Human. He is Divine.

He is the Lamb. He is the Lion.
He is the Word and He's not lyin'.
He is the Servant. He is the Prince.
He is Love and I am convinced

Jesus came to seek and to save.
Bigger than a manger. Stronger than the grave.
Jesus came as God made man...

He - asked - you - a - question -

"What about YOU?

Who do YOU say I am?"

London.
What do you need it to be?
The Capital?
A powerhouse?
An icon?
Your career boost?
A short city break ?

For me
it's home.

It wasn't so much childhood trauma as it was a soap melodrama. But I wasn't the protagonist and I soon realised that I had become redundant to their narrative.

Part way into the 8th series I left to star in my own spin off at a boarding school set in the Chilterns where I had greater success. Oh, yes - there was the occasional well-choreographed cross-over, but nothing substantive; and I successfully developed my own independent brand.

Years have passed and we don't do cross-overs anymore, but they may turn up for the occasional, one-scene guest appearance.

I prefer it this way. It's not Made In Chelsea, but it's my own reality drama.

When is a fleeting stray thought
a senseless fool's distraction?
And when is my sudden idea
a true sage-like inspiration?
No weight of long experience
No number of tried and tested
No diet of **** it and sees
seem to give me true wisdom.

Your tears will speak for you
while your loss dries up all words.

The spreading tearstains
on my shoulder
are eloquent enough.

Promise me
not to promise me any more
don't say don't dream don't plan
any more
just show just do
what your heart
what your gut
what you want
and if you want me
you'll find me here for you
I promise

With a smile she built her man of the freshest snow with eyes of the coldest coal, - she laughed as she set his top hat at a song-and-dance angle and fashioned a fred astaire cane from a discarded broom handle, - she whispered her mischief, hoping for some reaction, but he kept his silence, with a marked chilled inaction - and as she began her dance, she couldn't help but be crushed by his stubborn hush and the steady fall of diluted coal dust.

Now Joe's too big for his bed
But never let it be said
That this would prevent
Some time well mis-spent
Watching TV while outspread

We're all sound artists now.
Walking through our chosen concert halls, with or without walls, listening through public spaces, in personal places, curating our own shapes of combinations, constructions, concoctions of sounds and visions, an unwitting contribution to the contemporary audio visual world of sonic art installations.
We're all artists now.
And we're in charge.

One step at a time
One punch at a time
One round at a time
One fight at a time

And when life throws
all it has at you,
all at one time, then
every step
every punch
every round
every fight
that leaves you standing
is a win

and every time
you hit the ground
only to rise again
that is a victory
that is worthy
of the champion that you are.

Who do you wish to be?
Who do you wish to die as?
How will we remember you?
As joyous or as pious?

There's only one kinda respect
that matters
That's self-respect,
respect from you.
It don't matter how it looks
to others -
what matters is how it looks
to you.

So take a moment,
make your choice
and no matter what they say
make sure your choice
is true to self
and that you don't betray
your inner self, that heart of self
that's waiting in the basement
the self you hid, but can't deny
that it's up for reappraisement.

Your basement self is restless
it's hungry for the fight
so feed your self
some self respect
and step into the light.

bananana and cinnamonon
betray a lack of discipline
while gingerer on melonon
shows tasteful imagination

It's in the sequence
within the space
on the slow turn
at the touch of the page

it's more than the optic
less than didactic
much more tactile,
less than merely mercantile

it's more immersive,
deeply collaborative
a match that's unconventional
beyond art, words and materials

avoiding any deference,
embracing our difference
flicking 2 fingers
without fear of irreverence

it's greater than the sum
of its many surprising parts
more than what was found in
the inspirational, original art

and whether it's deliberate
or accidently incidental
these are books as art,
beyond the coffee table

God has no chromosomes
so don't get caught up with gender
He Genesised you down to your genes
and delights in your full splendour

You wear the mask
that gets you through the day.
You close the door and tear
and tear the mask away.

You wear the mask
that gets you through the war.
You close the door and swear
there is no better way.

I need a strong yin
to rein me in
to be by my side
kicking my shin
when I need to restrain
my under their skin
to pull me out of my dive
and control my fast spin

it's then that my watson,
my bucky, my tonto
comes into their own
and suppresses my ego
So don't go when I strut
when I trigger disgust
just stand by my yang
and balance me up

I've been
right in the thick of it
wanting to stick with it
just for the hell of it
up front and close to it.

But now
I've had my fill of it
done my fair share of it
time to slow down a bit
and exit before Brexit.

The parent said to the child,
"Just you listen to me -
"Do as you're told, you'll be fine;
you need to wait and see."

The child smiled at the parent,
relieved to have someone in charge.
Their worry had been overwhelming
with much that couldn't be grasped.

The adults looked on, both curious
at the exchange that they'd observed.
They continued on their journey,
sharing all that they had learned.

My street was full of aunties
and full of uncles too.
They weren't the same as family,
but grown-ups who we knew.

Parents of my mates,
friends of mum and dad,
people I could trust to share
what it was they had.

Winter parties, summer trips
a massive paddling pool,
loads of music, lots of love
and laughter while we grew.

Common homes and gardens,
a street in open-plan,
more than simply neighbours,
one big, street-long clan.

Tough as a girl
Loud as a boy
Big on dreams
and bigger on joy

Quick with laughter
Slower with spite
Happy to hug
and happy to fight

Short on patience
Longer on play
First up in line
and last to give way

Shorter than me
but not by much
Likely to smile
and not hold a grudge

Sisters as siblings
are harder to bear
Sisters as friends
tend to be rare

Countless paths
Alternative routes
Only one guide
can see you through.

I'm not talking frenzy
I'm not feeling fury
Although it's not fiery
I'm still feeling angry

Its root's in frustration
a hidden foundation
of deep indignation
from silent vexation

I need a new outlet
to offset this upset
Something to attack
to reset my mindset

So while poetry is helping
to sort out my feelings
I'll punch out my raging
as part of my healing

You have greater worth than you suppose.
So, please listen to what I propose.

Don't default to self-less,
but be more deliberate in your selflessness

leaving space for a little selfish too.
Dont settle for less. Don't just make do.

Learn what makes you happy and then embrace it.
Recognise what makes you angry
and carefully express it

without being cranky
confront frankly and talk.
Don't just shut down and walk.

And accept the help your friends offer.
They wouldn't have offered if they couldn't be bothered.

Your friends have an investment in your friendship,
so don't let those friendships slip. They too benefit.

When you make contact, know you do not impose.
Because, it's true, you are of far greater worth
than you have presupposed.

I've got a licence to be poetic
and I'm not afraid to use it
Can I stop you for a moment
cos I think you need to hear this

I can work with a little discord
I can dance with juxtaposition
I'm even sometimes partial to
a suggestion by omission

I've got a licence to be poetic
and I'm not afraid to use it
I've got a mouthful of metaphor
and little time to chew it

I get giggly with similes
and silly with alliteration
I'm warning you now
I'm devoted to proper diction

I've got a licence to be poetic
and I'm not afraid to use it
So give me some extra space
cos I think I'm going to lose it

I'm in love with eloquence
and I fawn for fluency
I can't get near enough
of off-beat rhythmic lunacy

I've got a licence to be poetic
and I'm not afraid to use it
But I use it for the good
and avoid the call for nasty

I'm tired of hearing hate
bred from agressive bitterness
I'm looking to collaborate
with writers with forgiveness

I've got a licence to be poetic
and I'm not afraid to use it

So let's sit down to talk
cos I think you need to hear this

not rooted,
not foundational,
but transitional,
I mean - tabernacle.
Following cloud and flame,
and restless for Jordan.

not stilted
not intellectual
but relational,
more than routine ritual.
Led by spirit, filled by flame
and restless for Jordan.

Stones and Seeds -
Whatever you hold,
lay them down
and unfold your empty hands

I had watched his glow go down
and I saw the hole swallow him whole.
I now watched his light rise
and I saw his eyes rest on mine,
newly ascended.

A life can be told from different angles
A different moral every time
A fresh perspective from greater distance
Puts the truth to familiar lies

The certainty that gives
the clarity to see
a path lies beneath
the current uncertainty

These are not ***** words,

Accord
Concord
Detente
Engage

These are European words.

More than a pick-up
Deaf to a chat-up
Happy to pass-up
Chances to hook-up

Bruised from my ****-ups
Smart from my break-ups
Wise from my make-ups
Still time to grow-up

Ready to pipe-up
Bolder to speak-up
Willing to stand-up
At long last to man-up

I feel like I should say
something of substance
something of meaning
something of the moment,

but I remain empty.

Curating multiple identities
Creating original content
Time on social media
is ( * ) time well spent

* never / rarely / always / dinner

The bigger my heart,
the greater my capacity for hurt.

The more open my mind
the deeper I need to think.

The greater my reach
the more grounding I need.

------------------

The older I get
the more I listen.

The more I listen
the keener my hearing.

The more I hear
the more my heart weeps.

The bigger my heart,
the greater my capacity for hurt.

The more open my mind
the deeper I need to think.

The bridge character
is essential to the narrative,
it's just not HER narrative.

And later,
as if because the readers
have asked for more,
as if something about her
caught their imagination,
prompting fresh fan questions,
she features again
and the panels frame
more detail,
more of her back story,
her motivation
and perhaps we learn
her true name.

In a few years time
it may be that
a reader develops into a writer,
or perhaps an editor,
and a story is commissioned
telling HER history
with colour,
with space
and we see, at last,
her scars
and at last we see
the essential essence
of how she came to be.
And we identify
with HER.

But one night
when we look back
when we read again
that first appearance,
we realise that there remains
some unexplained detail,
a few missing pieces of her jigsaw

and as we put the final touches
to our too tight cosplay,
we wait, with hope
for her OWN title
that just might reveal
her full narrative.

Open both eyes
put on your slippers
and carry on

Take a bowl
lift down the cereal
and carry on

Angle the mirror
pull a face
and carry on

Choose a tie
polish your shoes
and carry on

Walk to the corner
buy a paper
and carry on

Return home
sit alone
and quietly, carry on

This is what I have observed.
This I have seen to be true -
You are not responsible
for their unhappiness,
nor for their disappointment.
These are their's.
These are from older seeds.

This is the greatest lesson.

The next is like it.
You cannot control
whether they are happy
whether they are content
with the answer.

So what can you do,
but what you know to be right,
what is said to be fair?
Do not test this
by their response.

This too is wisdom.
This too is a sadness.

Too little of this is false
Too much of this is true
I'd love to dismiss all of this mess
as just some more fake news