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Nov 2018 · 1.7k
Prayer #6
Steve Page Nov 2018
We watched and listened
as He prayed.
And we wondered
what it might be like
to speak with Jehovah
as He did.

So we gathered up our courage
and we asked.

And then, smiling,
He told us.
He gave us our prayer.
And, as if for the first time,
it felt real.
It felt like we had permission.
We had an invitation
to call Jehovah 'our Father'
as He did.

I couldn't help but smile
when I thought what the priests would make of this.

Child to Father.
Direct access. Forgiveness
without a priest.
And the simplicity of asking,
of feasting
on the generous Spirit
as He did.

Oh, how I smiled.

And later,
when the others were asleep
I practiced this new boldness
and smiled in a whisper:

"Our Father in heaven,
most holy be your Name.
Your kingdom come.
Your will be done
here on earth
just as in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins
just as we forgive those
who sin against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
instead, deliver us from the evil one.
For yours is the kingdom,
the power and the glory
for ever, Amen."

I smiled.
And I slept
as He did.
Closer to grace.
Luke 11
Matthew 6
Nov 2018 · 1.2k
Prayer #5
Steve Page Nov 2018
Things you won't hear from God:

- I'm sorry we are experiencing a higher number of calls than usual. 
You may wish to call back later.

- All of our operators are dealing with other petitioners.  We will be with you as soon as someone becomes available.

- Your call is important to us, please wait or alternatively go to our website at www dot onbendedknee (all one word) dot GOD dot heaven, where you will find lots of useful information. 

- Listen carefully to the following options. 
Press 1 if you are the desperate parent of a child under one.  
Press 2 for all other requests.

- I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understood that.  Did you say, "HEEELLLPP!!!"? 

- Our office is now closed. Our operating hours are from 9 am to 5 pm. Thank you for calling. 

Things you will hear from God:

"Welcome.  I've been expecting you. What's on your heart?"
Heart to heart. Every time.
Nov 2018 · 951
Prayer #4
Steve Page Nov 2018
Have you ever had the feeling
while praying
that you've inadvertently
been talking
while God is speaking?

Don't worry -
He wrote it down for you.
Remember to listen.
Nov 2018 · 814
Prayer #3
Steve Page Nov 2018
How many times a day do you pray?

As many as needed.
Some days only once.
But it might take all day.
It's not about time to pray. It's about relationship.
Nov 2018 · 321
Prayer #2
Steve Page Nov 2018
Strong knees and open eyes

Straight back and open ears

Strong voice and open hands

Straight through to the throne of grace
Hebrews 4:
14 Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess.
15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.
16 Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
Nov 2018 · 152
Prayer #1
Steve Page Nov 2018
You walk
You sit
You kneel

You ask
You wait
You weep

I listen
I speak
I weep

I hear
I stand
I act
Prayer is an interactive activity.
Nov 2018 · 2.5k
Human Kintsugi
Steve Page Nov 2018
my finger traced the cracks and brokenness,
found the gaps and incompleteness,
while you carefully took each jagged piece
and added a golden vein of grace
to mark the restoration,
creating a celebration
within a divine appreciation
of this, a broken reflection
of my origin,
starting and ending with you
Kintsugi is a beautiful thing.  Especially when completed on a broken heart.
Nov 2018 · 407
This is me
Steve Page Nov 2018
this is me,

hurting, but healing with care,
and living with purpose.
falling, but dancing with grace
and keeping my footing.
trudging, but keeping pace
with someone who's been this way before.

head high, not bowed low.
speaking up, not keeping it down.
living loud, not hiding out.
welcomed home,
not cold shouldered, but bolder
in the image of the original.

now this is me!
Imperfect but with purpose.
Nov 2018 · 919
Only
Steve Page Nov 2018
You're only as rich as you feel
You're only as well as you live
You're only as loved as you linger
You'll only have what you give

You're only as full as your plate
You're only as good as your last
You're only as fast as your finish
You'll only have what you have asked
Can't lay claim to the first line as I overheard it.
Nov 2018 · 1.5k
Flanders further afield
Steve Page Nov 2018
[After Flanders Fields, by Major John McCrae, 1915]

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields,
the beaches of France,
Palestine groves,
Malaya's tropics,
Korean mountains,
Egypt's deserts,
Cyprus' beaches,
Borneo's forests,
Aden's marshes,
Falkland's heaths,
Balkan's tundra,
Afganistan bush,
Iraqi highlands,
[Keep list open....]
The lines before 'the beaches of France' are all McCrae's.
And so it goes on. https://www.britishlegion.org.uk/remembrance/what-we-remember/recent-conflicts/
Nov 2018 · 1.6k
Christmas heedless
Steve Page Nov 2018
Fa-la, la-la, *******-la!
Deck your halls, don't skimp on the holly.
It's the season to be jolly -
Shelve you woes, wrap up your ills,
use your credit, put off the bills.
Follow us for merry pleasure,
you know we're all in this together.
It's just started, it's one long trial,
but we'll get through it, just fix that smile.
Not an easy season for many, but still the expectation to be jolly.
Nov 2018 · 392
Family Christmas
Steve Page Nov 2018
We share the pleasure of a shared joke based on shared experience in shared lives, with no target to speak of, but with a simple open mockery of the value we place on our own shared past, whether unique to us or shared wider with our middle aging generation or perhaps universal to all humankind - a past we hold close but hold lightly lest it slip away from too much introspection and over-close scrutiny, but still a past that bears the shared weight of hearty family laughter, full of love and belonging.
Quaking, I finish with the gravy jug, catch the hesitant drip with my forefinger and pass it on, enjoying the richness of this moment.
I have 3 sisters, each with kids and grandkids.  I love the laughter when we're together.
Nov 2018 · 728
This is a war poem
Steve Page Nov 2018
Blessed are they who are conscripted, when they are dragged into wars not of their choosing
- for they will be remembered.

Blessed are they who are convinced by politicians' rhetoric, when they are shamed into service by posters and speeches
- for they will be remembered.

Blessed are you when leaders lie to you and lead you to your slaughter, sing and be brave,
- for you will be remembered.

Blessed are you when men shell you and seek to **** you, sing and be brave, my brothers
- for you will be remembered.

You are the salt of the earth, thrown out and trampled underfoot.
You are the light of the world, placed in darkness and buried.
But truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappears, not the least drop of your blood will by any means disappear from this soil.

Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these and encourages others to forget, will be called least in this kingdom.

But you,
you
will be
remembered.
I have mixed feelings about war. Just wars are few and far between. Men's egos and power plays are more common.  But the soldier fights for those on their left and their right, not for ideologies. Soldiers deserve our respect.
Nov 2018 · 3.4k
Uncle Christmas 2018
Steve Page Nov 2018
Uncle Christmas was mucking out happily mucking in and wondering what might have been had his twin not been sneakier and the first to emerge to claim the 'Father' moniker. 

Uncle found to his surprise he was quite content to be the deputy and not have the pressure at the top of the Christmas hierarchy. Rather he was happier working with the reindeer, being grubbier, a little smellier, leaving his brother to bear the fur lined mantle that was heavier.

However,
at each and every Christmas dinner when the family all got together to enjoy the post-advent breather, Uncle would still insist with his Christmas pudding grin that compared to his older twin he was far harder working,
a little better looking 
and definitely 
relatively 
slim.
Based on a passing poster promoting a web site Uncle Christmas
Nov 2018 · 4.6k
This is not a war poem
Steve Page Nov 2018
This isn't about front lines and deep mud,
it's not about sacrifice and bands of brotherhood.

It's not calling for silence or for national pride,
it's not about cenotaphs and those left behind.

No, this a thank you to one Ernest Page,
Gunner Sergeant, Royal Field Artillery, 182nd Brigade.

Thank you for ducking, thank you for dodging,
thank you for lasting, thank you for living.

Thanks for returning back home to Brockley.
Thanks for asking Gran and building a family.

Thank you for dad and for little Aunt Betty,
for Pam and for Pete and for cousins aplenty.

Thanks for Rose Cottage, for trips round the lake,
thanks for loud laughter and sleepy eyed late

mugs of hot chocolate and medeira cake slabs.
Thanks for my sisters, thanks again for my dad.

Thank you for surviving, and all that implies.
I owe you it all, I owe you this life.
I have my grandad's WW1 French English 'conversation book'. I have his stirrups too. He died when i was in my teens. I remember his cigars and his smile.
Oct 2018 · 1.3k
And when you pray
Steve Page Oct 2018
And when you pray
Ask from your heart
and when you pray
Seek from your soul
and when you pray
sniff around without ceasing
through your tears
to find the doors
that He has prepared
to brand new frontiers
for you, His pioneers.
Then knock
and don't be shocked
that he wants to talk.

When you pray
stay to hear what he has to say.
Don't be so ready to rush away.
Stay, and you might be surprised
that the interaction becomes two-way.
A lesson from Redeemer London.  Matthew 7.
Oct 2018 · 579
Foresight
Steve Page Oct 2018
The shorts I wear to bed
have a back pocket.
When I chose to buy them
in a twin pack with a tee shirt,
the pocket was not
a deciding feature.
However, I acknowledged
that it was there by design.

For months I gave it no further thought.
For months it was as redundant
as a breast pocket in pyjamas.

Then one morning,
as I was juggling
with a cereal bowl
and clothes from the dryer,
I slipped my phone,
still playing a pod cast,
into my back pocket.

And for a moment,
as the conversation followed me upstairs
back to the bedroom,
I smiled at the foresight of M&S.
I should have realised:
they know their stuff.
Simple things make life easier.
Oct 2018 · 383
Church History
Steve Page Oct 2018
His complex plurality of unity has been worshipped with a scarcity of uniformity, with a variety of melodies across humanity's long history and He has responded with reliable proactivity, speaking with consistency through a variety of agencies and always with generosity, ushering His family into his eternal city where at last we will no longer see Him as if through a glass darkly, but instead see Him in His full and unending glory.
God ain't simple but He is.
[This is curious. I've been notified that this is trending, but no likes.  I'm not sure what means to me.]
Oct 2018 · 128
Dad said
Steve Page Oct 2018
"Who gets to call the shots matters,
but so do YOU.
So turn up,
take YOUR shot
and - be - your - most - excellent."
Oct 2018 · 859
Final Word
Steve Page Oct 2018
And this is my final Word on the matter.
You seem to have either
forgotton
or misunderstood
or ignored
my earlier communication.
So this time I will make it uneqivocal.
This time I will bring it down
to your level.
This time I'll say it in person.
Stop talking.
Pay attention:
This is my Son.
Listen to Him.
Reading Hebrews.
Oct 2018 · 581
Standing smoking
Steve Page Oct 2018
Standing smoking under the front light looking out into the night on the step of another flat share which for a while I can dare to call home wondering when I will own a place of my own where I can kick up a stink or pile up the sink, where I can strike a light, where I can curse as loud as I like, where I don't have to take myself outside and stand staring at nothing with nothing but my key and the glow of my roll-your-own for company.
On my way home i see men standing outside their no smoking allowed rented digs having a silent ciggy.
Oct 2018 · 501
Tea without ceremony
Steve Page Oct 2018
The slow tea flowed with a knowing tease, letting the flavour seep bone deep as I watched with a growing marrow-level ease, feeling the aroma sink gently down lower than ever before, leaving a lasting trace of exotic leaf, as her voice broke through the spell with her ancient enquiry: "milk and two sugars was it, dear?"
Tea beats coffee every time
Oct 2018 · 180
Mrs Christmas' Surprise
Steve Page Oct 2018
The sensuous snow layered soft flakes over her long limbs as she reached and raised the deep red cloak from where it had slidden, chiding Nicholas for his haste, while inwardly relishing this moment of personal pleasure in the back of the now spacious sleigh.
"Happy Christmas, dear," she whispered.
It's early for festive ditties I know but loved how this came together.
Steve Page Oct 2018
The socialist and the socialite
sat themselves down for supper.
Arthur wore a blood red rose
while Sophie went for feathers.

The socialist and the socialite
had only a little in common
and neither said much at all
about the paths they'd trodden.

The socialist and the socialite
ate with polite conversation.
He had the slow cooked brisket,
while she had the salad with chicken.

The socialist and the socialite
left quietly with an old studied calm,
but once their door was firmly closed
fast fell into each other's arms.
Opposites can attract.
Oct 2018 · 762
Conversation
Steve Page Oct 2018
I have to go round the back
to arrive, to drive, cupboard,
* find
what I want to talk, to shout, push,
* express
because I, it's a big map,
I can't get, can't reach,
* forget
my teeth, the things out of my mouth,
the pages in my head, the long taste,
* words
that I want to hammer, hold, grip, throw,
* use.
It's like a different train, boat,
* country.
It's uphill.
I'm at bedtime.
The brain finds ways to say what it means.
Oct 2018 · 304
Shorter
Steve Page Oct 2018
The shorter the time
The more personal the view
Between the heads of those in front of you

The shorter the time
The stronger the lingering taste
The more intense the take away experience

The shorter the time
The easier to scoot and duck under
The inconveniently well placed barrier

The shorter the time
The more focused the afternoon stretch
On the sofa of your oh so limited rest

The shorter the time
The quicker, the swifter, the tighter
You'll find the undaunted feature writer

The shorter the time
To that unreasonable deadline imposition
The sweeter the release of the completed submission

The shorter the time
The better
Writing to order is an art.
Oct 2018 · 1.6k
Nice Samaritan
Steve Page Oct 2018
The nice Samaritan meant well
but tended to wait
to hesitate
just long enough
to be too late to make
a real difference
and instead stood
and watched struck dumb
as the world went to hell
in a handcart
There are different classes of Samaritan. Not all are good or timely.
Oct 2018 · 12.1k
Cityscape
Steve Page Oct 2018
The riled route master and the hacked off hackney carriage weren't bothered by the boris bike, they simply barreled along the bus lane oblivious to the wobble, blind to the blindsided and bent on beating the amber to red, til they were halted by the growth factor of a chelsea tractor straddling lanes and field testing the choice of right or left and failing the screen test set by the sat nav, thereby giving opportunity to the swarm of office staffers snatching their chance and chancing their luck, dancing past with their fat chance of swiping in before nine and avoiding the chagrin of the boss who's been the bane of their short sojourn through the city of lost dreams, chance encounters, thin fortune and rushed hours. This is London.
Route Master = a London bus
Hackney Carriage = a black cab
Boris Bike = rentabike
Chelsea tractor = an oversized suv preferred by families who can afford Kensington & Chelsea
Oct 2018 · 8.5k
Anthem of the Thames
Steve Page Oct 2018
Did you see a tarnished surface
that made you look again
Was it reflected in the lyrics
in the anthem of the Thames

Was the traffic still diverted
Had the Borough lost good men
Were mothers dry from crying
at the anthem of the Thames

Did you see the children drowning
Was the tide too high from rain
Were the barges towed in silence
past the anthem of the Thames

Were the songs drowned out by shouting
Did the words turn boys insane
Did the drum beats beat past midnight
to the anthem of the Thames

Was it echoed through the arches
Did the shadows hide the stains
Did the wounded walk til morning
through the anthem of the Thames

Will you still be here at day break
Do you claim this grey domain
Will you pray for restoration
of the anthem of the Thames
This is my lament for London and its lives lost.
Oct 2018 · 257
1st line plus
Steve Page Oct 2018
All he was was cold
And all he held was gone
Every flake fell flat
And every step dragged on

All he said stayed silent
And all he felt was numb
Every tear was frozen
And every seal undone

All he'd dreamed had faded
And all he'd saved was spent
Every hope stayed distant
On this his last descent
Built on a stolen first line from the radio.
Oct 2018 · 242
1st line
Steve Page Oct 2018
All he was was cold...
So here's a friendly challenge for by buddies out there.  I stole a line from the radio - a too good to miss line that's crying out for a stanza or 2.  I'll add my words when I get them.  For now, over to you.
Oct 2018 · 604
Mirror
Steve Page Oct 2018
I grin my stupid grin, noting the green flecks and the hard to get at strands of meat, relishing the deep booth, the just loud enough too loud music, the familiar smile dishing out the platters, the laughter of being the first to the shake and squeeze of the red not quite ketchup between my hands, the almost fit of the dripping burger in my mouth, leaving a lick of a stain on my lower lip and a longer lasting comfort blanket layered in my stomach from that meal and a half, once in a while treat of my family, sandwiched together and perfectly reflected in the wall mirror.
Childhood South East London memories.  Who knows how accurate they are.
Sep 2018 · 545
1 in 12
Steve Page Sep 2018
theoneintwelve
longstobecloser
achestobenearer
tothosewho matter
but instead
s   i   t   s    
a    n    a  r   m   s    
l   e   n    g    t    h
l   o    n    g    e    r
f    r    o   m     a   n     y
h    o    p    e     o     f
e    m    b    r    a    c    e.
1 in 12 of men over 50 are lonely.
Sep 2018 · 2.0k
Fathercraft
Steve Page Sep 2018
Fathercraft
has been passed down
from father to father
losing and gaining
at each slow bequeathing -
less heavy-handed there
more soft-hearted here
as each generation rejects
the disciplines of the past.
So much so that I wonder
what's left of the original art
and what we've lost.

This is my food for thought
as I feed my daughter -
crumbled digestive
with mashed banana -
perhaps a favourite of mine
and my father's,
while she grins and chortles
blowing biscuit dust
and spittle bubbles
with absolute child-delight.

Food for thought
as I drink in her smile,
wipe my cheek
and laugh along,
prolonging the rare perfection
of this father moment.
My dad was far from perfect but I picked up a thing or two from him.
Sep 2018 · 154
The answer is Yes.
Steve Page Sep 2018
Will the hurdles be high?
Are the footpaths steep?
Will the days be long?
and cause me to weep?

Will you be there too?
Will you have time for me?
Will you let me down
and return by degrees?

Will I fill my shoes?
Can I act my age?
Will I brave the crowds?
Can I seize the day?

The answer is Yes
it has always been so
so get off your ****
it's now time to go.
'Get off your ****' is London's version of 'Carpe Diem'.
Sep 2018 · 597
Metaphor
Steve Page Sep 2018
Poets love metaphor and simile.
We love the extra dimension they bring to a conversation.

Hard brexit or soft brexit.
War of words.
Snail's pace.
Quiet as a mouse.
Embracing change.

But be warned, next time you use a metaphor ask yourself: Is the tail waging the dog? (See what I did there?)

Metaphors are powerful. For example:

When you join an argument - do you join a side?
Do you build your argument to withstand the opposition's attacks?
Do you fight to win the arguement, to defeat the opponent's arguement?

Or do you establish common ground? Will you join a journey to reach an agreement together?

Will you end up enemies with a peace treaty that is dependent on peace keepers?
Or will you be fellow travellers, journey companions with a shared objective?
Will you ultimately come to a shared view at the summit that you have reached together?

Metaphors are powerful. For example:

Is your day made up of stolen time?
Do you lose time?
Do you race against time?
Do you try to gain time?
Is time something you seek to possess more of - a finite resource that's to be preserved, stretched and saved as much as possible?

Or is time a stream, a river traveled that brings us to new experience?
Is it a force of nature to be respected and enjoyed?
Are you comfortable simply going with the river's flow? Can you enjoy the ride?
Can you accept the limits of what you control (a small rudder) and what you don't (the long established river and it's ultimate destination)?

Chose your metaphor with care, it may come back to bite you. There, I did it again.
More a blog than a poem. Forgive me.
Sep 2018 · 230
Changed
Steve Page Sep 2018
I've faced change
and I've found it strange how

change stretches
change races

change strikes me dumb
change leaves me numb

change weighs heavy
change breeds worry

change twists and turns
change burns -

change leaves you standing
leaving you thinking

challenging mediocrity
offering opportunity

flouting comfy rules
removing familiar tools

stripping plans bare
making you scared

- but bringing you hope
clearing the smoke

increasing the pace
clearing some space

sweeping life clean
on to the next screen

- change is a constant
he shrugs off all constraint

he's fearlessly bold
with an irresistible hold

he bucks every trend
not afraid to offend
and he will fast become
your firmest friend.

Welcome change.
Change for good or ill moves you on.
Sep 2018 · 180
Teen
Steve Page Sep 2018
Lately
he will simply sit enclosed
focused on another world
somewhere he feels more at home
with a script he and his can own

Later
he will emerge,
shifting focus,
slowly taking notice
adjusting to a slower gravity
reverting to a lesser fluency
but no less forthright
not giving his words away
without a fight
and so we fight.
Speaking as a father of a boy with his boyness turned up to 11 with a little exaggeration.  We never really fought.
Sep 2018 · 163
Where
Steve Page Sep 2018
Where do we go when we're asleep?
Where do you go when I'm asleep?
Where do I go when you're asleep?
Are we asleep now?
Where ARE we?
Kids' questions are deep.
Sep 2018 · 348
Wake up
Steve Page Sep 2018
I drive to the early coffee shop
and order my decaf tea
I don't drink caffeine you see
as my body is a temple
and needs its insides
kept pristine

my cup bears my name with pride
and I slide to the side bar
just a drop of milk
not too much
and skimmed
of course
then stir my conscience
and avoid the cake
I take my takeaway
to my MPV
which has plenty of room
just for me

I start up the engine
to enjoy the air conditioning
sit and start up my thinking
til I'm a venti ready to drive away
more awake and ready
to start a fresh new day

there's barely a hint
of my early bleary eyed squint
and I sing
blissfully oblivious
of my oversized
first world
footprint
We have to change our priorities.
Sep 2018 · 476
Misted
Steve Page Sep 2018
the colour of the place
is what I remember
the scent of the laughter
the echo of the sweet wine
on the green
on your breath
in that long moment in time
and whilst I expect I have that photo
somewhere
you rise like a mist
unbidden
unexpected
as vivid
as strong
as clear
as that summer
Memories that sneak up on you can be overwhelming
Sep 2018 · 3.9k
Leave to remain
Steve Page Sep 2018
leave to remain
stay to move on
tear down to build
some space to call home

make new reminders
keep a fresh store
full of faint memories
with room for much more

drink to old allies
drink to forget
laugh with new friends
shake off your regret

this is tomorrow
a brand new today
this is fresh start
you're welcome to stay
There's room. Just shift over.
Sep 2018 · 175
Friday night horrors
Steve Page Sep 2018
Every fire fascinates
Each battle beggars belief
News of drought and death
Sees viewing figures increase

Solemn faces on the screen
Scenes that 'may cause distress'
Each prompt us to be thankful
That our lives are so blessed

Now move along the sofa
I've got a heavy tray
I'm ready for a horror
Just - press - play
21st Century London
Sep 2018 · 958
Tragic end
Steve Page Sep 2018
Heart
Diamond
Clubbed
*****
One of my minimalistic stories
Sep 2018 · 1.8k
Let there be colour
Steve Page Sep 2018
Let there be colour
Let there be shape
Let the air be filled
with sound and scent

Let colours and shapes
Let sounds and scents
be blended together
with roaring intent

Go soak in the sights
and relish the shapes
go embrace the new
come and escape
Inspired by a young designer. https://www.ellamaestatham.com
Sep 2018 · 267
Loud
Steve Page Sep 2018
It's so loud - like a thunder
like the storm of the girl she was
quick as lightning and gone

It's so loud
louder than ever
I don't remember her heart
being so loud
so proud of my little girl

I didn't find enough time
to listen to her
to listen to her heart
to listen to her heart beats

I didn't find moments to hold her
I could have told her
- look after your heart
it's so easily snatched away

I didn't hold her
---- hear her
--------- dance with her
nearly enough to know her heart
I wasn't nearly father enough

Listen
listen to her heart
with so much more life to give
with more life to live

Listen to me
Prompted by a you tube video of a bereaved father listening to the heart his daughter donated to a young man in need to a transplant. He stood there with a doctor's stethoscope against the guys chest and sobbed.
Sep 2018 · 673
The swan and the cake
Steve Page Sep 2018
(Voice of the Swan by Eric Idle from Monty Python.)

Don't you ignore me,
I could break your arm you know.
I could cut you down with a well placed puncture wound.
I've got important friends, oh yes,
I'M protected by royal statute.
Oh, I see, NOW I have your attention.
NOW you're taking notice.
Well, just you listen,
you might get away with your cheek with those common Mallards,
but don't think it will wash with me.
Now, give me some of that there cake
and perhaps I'll leave you be.
From an exercise at a poetry meet up in London's Southbank. We were shown a picture of a swan straining it's neck up towards the bank. I imagined some cake out of shot.
Sep 2018 · 18.1k
Common
Steve Page Sep 2018
Community -
it's not so much a social force
it's not out to coerce
it's an embrace
and in the end
that's what it's all about
it's a focus on people
it's a focal point on community
a common unity of those entwined
common folk connected and over-lapped
those over-wrapped by common loves
securely bound by common ties
occupying common ground
filling common space
with a wrap-around embrace
that lasts a tight hold longer
that ignores odd body odour
an embrace that lasts
a whole lot together
-  It's what we have
in common
Not sure about the structure of this one.  I compose on a phone screen a lot (rather than on paper or desktop), which leans me toward shorter lines and this has shorter lines than most of my wittering. Anyhow, I may try it again once I get to a desktop.  
#2 Now edited with slightly longer lines and a little reworking, but not much.
Sep 2018 · 3.3k
Wait
Steve Page Sep 2018
Waiting
will always be for me the most effective
(albeit the most frustrating)
of all the means of time travel.
You won't find me in those new fangled machines.
(You don't know when you'll end up.)
Just leave me be.
I'll wait now and see you later.
A twist on my grandmother's distrust of escalators. She preferred the stairs. "You won't get me on there, no thank you. I'll walk."
Sep 2018 · 4.9k
First hunt of the season
Steve Page Sep 2018
The forest of legs swayed in the moving shadows beneath the chatter over head, each threatening to block our path and crush our attempt to get to the first fallen crisps of the party season, which as yet laid undisturbed.

We weaved and advanced as fast as their legs allowed, eager to scavenge the waiting bounty before they were trampled underfoot by the oblivious adults who were intent on a seasonal ritual of their own that went on high over our heads.

We emerged unscathed at the edge of the forest and raced across the open parquet to the cover of the drapped, white topped trestle tables catching our breaths and crunching our snatched crisps planning our next move toward the plateau above.

Our scout had reported rich pickings, but when we looked around, seeking signs of our brave advance party, we could find no trace beyond a half eaten volovant and what might have been regurgitated mushroom. We shook our heads in despair at their folly. Every kid knows to stick to crisps and to processed meats, avoiding anything that might contain vegetables. We saw an open French window just beyond the trestles and heard plaintive heaves that had a distinct 6 year old strain.

We checked each other's resolve and saw on each other's faces that we believed our mission was more important than any one stomach. With a maturity that would have surprised our parents, we pushed the plight of our friend to the back of our minds and focused on the task at hand.

We each reached up with practiced stealth, taking only a second to check the food on offer and with a speed bred into us by the curse of older siblings, we each grabbed our prize.

Acknowledging the hazards of the return journey we devoured the meat at hand and with hyena grins savoured our just rewards. While our fallen friend heaved once more, we saluted one another: the season had started better than any of us could have hoped.
With thanks to Poetry Journal for the inspiration. And, yes, I acknowledge it's not poetic.  But it was fun to write.
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