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Steve Page Feb 2019
Busy with colour, the fast night shouted her down and refused to listen to her protests. Still she screamed across the square, but each syllable of her pain was immediately swept away and all that the tourists noticed was a mute nightingale cruelly pigeonholed by a half forgotton song.
And still she screamed.
Times change.
939 · Sep 2016
Good morning brothers
Steve Page Sep 2016
Striking poses or putting noses out of joint, Jack Dash was never afraid to clash, to abash bosses, exposing injustice, making a splash to turn our eyes to the unjust slash to rights of men on the docks.
A boxer, a poet, a son of the ancient Borough, with heavy weight words and feather weight fists, he galvanise his brothers.
Firebrand or fire fighter he took to the fight with every fibre of his underdog frame, calling stevedores to flame to life their struggle for their rights to challenge closed doors, with a chirpy charm that was sure to disarm the hardest of hearts.
My maternal great grandfather, John Brown, worked the docks on the Thames.  Jack Dash did much to protect the rights of these stevedores.
- Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Dash
936 · Nov 2018
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.
930 · Oct 2017
The love of money
Steve Page Oct 2017
(With a nod to Michael Rosen's poem, Chocolate Cake)

I love money.
I loved it as a boy
and now I love it even more.

Sometimes we used to have it
all spread out on the table
and I would sort it
and stack it.
And dad would say,
"keep the coppers away from the silver"
and laugh at his private joke.

We'd count it all,
bag it
and weigh it.
And then dad would give me a little for myself:
2 shillings, 8 thrupenny bits.

I'd stack them,
and count them again.
I'd put 3 aside for my tin
and count out 5 for school.

I'd take one thrupenny bit to school each day
and at morning break I'd take my thrupenny bit
and wait in the queue at the tuck shop.

But some days,
when standing in the queue
with my thrupenny bit in my hand,
I'd think again and wrap it up in my handkerchief
and I'd push it to the bottom of my grey trouser pocket
for my secret box in my wardrobe.
-
-
Anyway,
once, when dad was sick
he asked me to do the count
- alone.

To spread it on the table,
sort it,
stack it,
keep the coppers away from the silver,
count it
and weigh it.
And then take my share,
2 shillings,  8 thrupenny bits.

I sat in the kitchen
in the silence,
looking down at the spread before me,
full of fear and pride.

I sorted
and I sorted again.

I stacked
and rearrange the stacks.

I saw with a smile
that I had kept the coppers away from the silver.

I counted
and counted again
And for the sheer pleasure of it,
I counted again.

Satisfied,
I took my share
3 shillings, 12 thrupenny bits.

4 bits for my secret box,
3 bits for my tin
and 5 put aside for the week's tuck money.

I love money.
I loved it as a boy
and now sitting in my kitchen
with my red box here in SW1,
full of fear and pride,
I love it even more.
I needed to write a poem about an object or collection for a local event.  I chose money as the ultimate object of our love.
929 · Apr 2023
Hope
Steve Page Apr 2023
Hope can hurt
all the more the longer
it stays misplaced

and as it stays,
it deteriorates,
degrades, decays,

it despairs into a fainter shade
of hopeless surrender

until, against all hope,
it leaves
hurt.
is hope the friend it purports to be?
927 · Aug 2022
God ain't a white man
Steve Page Aug 2022
White's a privilege,
a responsibility, an advantage,

(topped-up by a Y chromosome for some)

which can't be worn lightly.

Let’s not kid ourselves -
despite the painted ceilings
the flaky teachings
- God is not a white man
God doesn't carry chromosomes
or gender-bearing genitalia.

God designed all of that paraphernalia
for us to enjoy, out of a love of diversity
out of a mischievous plan for human sexuality
out of a need to be reflected in more than one gender
because one was not strong enough to fully bear
to accurately render God's image alone.

Be clear, being white is a privilege,
a responsibility, an advantage
placed on our shoulders by successive generations
who denied,
pushed down,
held back
and placed into submission
the rest of God's rich palate of humankind.

God is not a white man -
No, they agreed upon the olive skin
of a chosen, a select people
and wore that dark complexion with pride.

So put aside that ancient lie.
God is not some white guy.

God is translucent.
Recommend the book 'God is not a white man and other revelations' by Chine McDonald.
924 · Aug 2023
You
Steve Page Aug 2023
You
I love the weight of your hands,
they leak your love
generously

I love the depth of your eyes,
they betray your heart
brilliantly

I love the strength you hide,
you lend it out
liberally

I love your slow presence,
always within reach
intimately

I love your joy and laughter,
both swamp the room
and me.
A rare love poem
922 · Mar 2022
Hanging truth
Steve Page Mar 2022
The truth and power
of our faith
hangs on the cross,
on the height of sacrifice
on the lengths and depths
Christ was willing to go
from holy conception
to physical resurrection
from passover supper
to Emmaus meal
to fish on the beach
to the promise of a feast
at his Father's high table.

The truth on which we stand
hangs on God made man
and on us made new
all due to our LORD Jesus Christ,
God's Son, our Saviour,
our once and for all time
holy, acceptable sacrifice.

The truth and power
of our faith
hangs on His cross.
Easter's coming.
921 · Sep 2018
Tragic end
Steve Page Sep 2018
Heart
Diamond
Clubbed
*****
One of my minimalistic stories
920 · Aug 2022
My dad takes me to hospital
Steve Page Aug 2022
My dad takes me to the hospital on his bike.
It’s icy and he wears his sheepskin gauntlets
and I’m grateful to shelter behind him

secure in his familiar gruff intolerance.
This is not the first time he’s taken TOIL for me
and his frustration radiates through his layers

but this two-of-us space is still delicious,
still precious for its rare warmth.
And he parks, and we dismount like John Wayne,

and the wall of his leather back takes the lead
as I stride into outpatients in his impatient wake,
making demands for his boy from the nervous staff

and taking relief from the update on my progress
and for the scar that gives me some hope of distinctiveness
and a source of stories for years to come.

Stories with my dad.
I had stitches on my forehead from a fall off my bike.  Mt mum didn't drive - so my dad had to take time off in lieu for my check ups, taking me on his motor bike.
919 · Jul 2016
Women!
Steve Page Jul 2016
I wasn't flirting,
I was simply being polite,
Is that so unusual?
Can't a guy hold a door,
Offer a seat,
Give a compliment,
Smile with warmth,
Give a hug,
Kiss a cheek,
Hold a hand,
Walk arm in arm,
Buy dinner,
Have a few drinks,
Go back to her place,
Massage her feet,
Fool around a little,
Stay the night,
Enjoy a lingering brunch,
- without it being made into such big deal?
Women! They blow things out of all proportion.
I overheard the first three lines in a cafe. The rest I extrapolated.
917 · Apr 2023
Roses
Steve Page Apr 2023
Roses can be White
Yellow or shades of Pink
But the Red are more expensive
Or so florists like to think

The seeds look very similar
Whenever you plant your borders
But once they show their truer form
It's too late to change your order
It's Spring.  And my thoughts return to gardens.  If you see anything deep and meaningful here, be sure to let me know.
911 · May 2022
Makes you stronger
Steve Page May 2022
Let's raise our glass to the many and the few
and far between two stools waiting at the bar
with contaminated peanuts
for company and an empty
beer mat ready for the happy
hour rush. And only the lonely truly know
hurt only makes you stronger
and the truth of needing
a glass of something stronger still.
started playing with idioms and ended in a quiet bar
Steve Page Jun 2022
It was the taboo of the touch and although it was her habit, it still held the power to thrill me to comfort my distance.

We chatted as she scanned each item , especially the contraband cake, and it was as if we were conspiring, masking our planned insurrection.

I obeyed the card-only directive and, as the till printed the receipt in a flurry, she reached over, stripped it away and pointedly
held both hands out toward mine.

And just there – as I reached around the screen, she cupped my hand in hers and she gifted me her “Look after yourself, luv.”
- while I choked on my goodbye.
Arvon retreat writing exercise
910 · Mar 2022
Stupid
Steve Page Mar 2022
Something is better
than nothing
Nothing is better
than stupid
Stupid is just
stupid
900 · Jan 2022
The fight
Steve Page Jan 2022
Vulnerable ain't weak
Hurting ain't broken
Pausing isn't giving up
Tired isn’t beaten
Listening to a pod cast about being self employed in lock down
895 · Aug 2016
Home from Home
Steve Page Aug 2016
Step over the threshold
And through the front hall
Full of shoes and possibilities.
Come to a kitchen table
Able to shed the cold
And unroll your soul
Against it's worn and warm knots,
Flavoured with cookies and coffee mugs
And echoes of late chats and early plans
and sneak-behind hugs.
Let the love that pools here soak
Into your marrow
Put aside tomorrow
And so launder your heart clean of fear.
Our home is your home,
Come pull up your chair.
With fond memories 1970s.
Enjoying a week away from work in Norfolk, UK. Able to rerun this poem under a blue sky and city free sounds.
893 · Nov 2018
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.
891 · Jul 2022
On Clevedon Pier
Steve Page Jul 2022
The second best place, I find,
to cry openly undetected,
thereby avoiding unwanted
concerns, is a pier.

You won't stick out, as staring out
to sea isn't that uncommon
and tears are a typical reaction
to the sting of salt on the breeze.

Fellow pier folk will leave
you be, alone with the past
and the uncertain sea.
889 · Feb 2023
Song, Theme Song
Steve Page Feb 2023
Like a bond song, rising from the depths
catching the theme, casting its charm,
holding the frame, teasing us
giving us just enough of what we’re waiting for
and keeping us all in the moment,
gun shot by shot, brass blast by blast,
until the action breaks across the screen,
drawing every gasp, taking every heart,
holding every gaze, clutching every throat,
- until the strings break in
and bring release and joy and disbelief
as the hero survives yet again
to bring the world its peace
Watchin the documentary ' The sound of 007 ''
889 · Nov 2021
Sacred
Steve Page Nov 2021
sacred to love
sacred to laugh
sacred to pray

sacred to dance
sacred to sing
sacred to pray

sacred to write
sacred to make
sacred to pray

sacred to play
many things can be sacred
886 · Sep 2023
Man for no seasons
Steve Page Sep 2023
I don't do seasons.

What's the point?
Mother Nature pays no attention
anymore - no adherence
to long established norms.
Unreliable, like the rest.
Incomprehensible at best.

So why bother?
Why consider
this season's wardrobe?
Why plan life around the calendar,
when you need any-weather clothes?

So I don't do seasons.
I don't do disappointment.
I don't do expectations.
I just plan for the unplanned
and weather the summer storms.

I'm a man for no seasons.
Like many places around the world, the UK's weather has been unpredictable of late.
886 · Jul 2021
Palms
Steve Page Jul 2021
The palms sit tall
stand long
speak softly
sing clearly
search deep and wide
sway in all winds
but never complain
never seek shelter.
They are there to be found
and to shade her
and all who gather to hear her wisdom
and to taste the colour of it.
Judges 4: "She used to sit under the palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim, and the people of Israel came up to her for judgment."
I've written a book! Deborah's Daughter (by SJ Page)
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B095W72GBV/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o08_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1
880 · Sep 2016
Travel writer's block.
Steve Page Sep 2016
I've missed the late train of thought to catch the long haul flight of fancy on the first leg of my voyage of discovery.

I'm running wild on a walkabout seeking adventures abroad without a reliable plot vehicle.

I've worn through my home truths and need to leave to be able to return my gaze with fresh lenses and a new perspective on my soles.

But right now you'll find me left on the platform of potential motion.
Sometimes you just can't get going.
880 · Apr 2019
Man-Up
Steve Page Apr 2019
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
Life lessons.
870 · Feb 2023
We will sing
Steve Page Feb 2023
They say that in London
you're never more than 10 foot
from a rat
and a stone's throw
from a poet.
The space in between is taken up
by stalking survey takers.

The crooked streets
that were once paved with gold
are now peppered
with monochrome gum,
half finished poems
and generous cigarette butts.

But out in the painted parks,
within the chorus of churches
or secured in our community halls -  
that's where you can still hear us sing.
City observations
870 · Apr 2018
Where poetry lives
Steve Page Apr 2018
This is the shoe where poetry lives
It walks with a tap and the occasional hop and skip
But on Mondays it drags a little on the way to the train station

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Ready to throw a kick but inevitably risking a stubbed toe
Harbouring the memory of a break and the months of limp

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Experimenting with an odd sock, denoting a qwerky outlook
And if you were to examine it's sole you'd find an uneven wear

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Grass stained from ventures along less travelled paths
And carrying scuffs from many climbed boundary walls

This is the shoe where poetry lives
And it sits by the back door ready for the next adventure
Silently jealous of the shoe that was claimed by the dog tonight
Where does your poetry live? And have you visited lately?
864 · Sep 2017
Wounded Woman
Steve Page Sep 2017
Her scars lay obscured,
shrouded by years of survival,
protected by safe distance,
masked by cosmetic smiles -
until you met her eyes
and there you shared
a fragment of her pain.
Wounded,
but after all,
the same wonderful woman.
Inspired by a painting by Paola Fratticci, Wounded Woman.
862 · Jan 2017
Pygmy Dreams
Steve Page Jan 2017
Lord, save us from our pygmy dreams
That bear fruit long before
We leave safe harbour.
Send us out to only come back home
Once we have defeated land-locked fear,
Hurdled every heaving horizon
And found the stars.

We'll return to show you
Our deep wild bruises
And war torn scars.
We'll submit our worn down egos
And weathered souls.
And only then gladly enter
Eternal harbour.
An echo of Drake's Poem/ Prayer 'disturb us'
850 · Mar 2019
Doorstep
Steve Page Mar 2019
Sorry
we missed
you
Please see other side
for details

Where is your parcel now?
We left it in your safe place
We left it with your neighbour
We still have your parcel
We'll try again tomorrow
Poetry Found on my doorstep.  Prompted by https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3021694/when-i-see-you/
848 · Oct 2021
Joash
Steve Page Oct 2021
What’s the rush, Joash?
Why’d you arrive so early?
Not that we’re complaining,
you know we love you dearly.

Why the rush, Joash?
Why’re you so eager
to join the clan Hamilton,
for us to get to see yer?

Why the rush Joash?
There’s truly plenty of time
for you and Reuben, Mum & Dad
to find your rhythm and rhyme.

Why the rush, Joash?
Just rest and feel the beat
of four lives loving in unison,
a quartet truly complete.
Welcome Joash Hamilton
848 · Apr 2022
Body maths
Steve Page Apr 2022
How much do you value
weight loss on a scale
of 1 to 20?

22
Apparently we should aim to have a waist measurement half our height.  That makes me 7' 6".
846 · Jun 2022
Salad bowl
Steve Page Jun 2022
No, not a melting ***
you know, the kind you get in industrial kitchens:
heavy, stained, covered and sealed,
left to boil and bubble, leaving questions
about herbs and spices and what we’ve concealed.

No, not a melting ***
but a large, glass salad bowl, the kind you place
in the centre of a garden trestle table
glistening in the sunlight,
with two oversized dark wood serving spoons
and a glossy drizzle of vinaigrette dressing.

The glass revealing every shade
of green and black and red, yellow and white
teasing us with every crunch of each anticipated bite,
each variety and shape, inviting us to participate, to fill our plates
and in this feast of an adventure, to celebrate
what we are - together.
[Re-write after Arvon retreat June 2022] I dislike the image of a melting *** - it paints a picture of lost identity.  I prefer the picture of a salad - combing flavours into something colourful and worth celebrating.
845 · Jul 2016
Moral Minority
Steve Page Jul 2016
'Under God' is no longer comfortable.
How can it be, with the company?
Spiritual Laws cannot precis
morality with integrity.
Sunday Prayers can't contain
all the complexities
of humanity's
Spirituality.

The tolls imposed
on primary roads to righteousness
cause an exodus
to less exclusive paths
where a moral minority
seek a more patient deity.
844 · Jul 2021
Octopus
Steve Page Jul 2021
Inking an octopus
takes time and space
and detail-dexterity
with a sense of 4D
you see, their arms
flow
and your eye can't track
their deeply chronic current-cy.
Following a conversation on the radio.  And sketching an octopus featured.
841 · Dec 2018
Fighter
Steve Page Dec 2018
I sat, gripped
as my tears fought to tear free
from her vice-like stare
and her mother-strong hold,
each knuckle white with intent
and scabbed with rage.

I tried to prise her grip away
scared by the strength of her frail frame
but she bore down all the same
and her nails inscribed one indelible plea
for me
to stay.
Mum's still fighting.
837 · Feb 2019
Burrow
Steve Page Feb 2019
I'm pottering and napping
with no space for snap chatting
I'm reading and snoozing
with no online browsing
I'm just taking downtime
some space for just me time
I'll see you tomorrow
when I emerge from my burrow
A friend inspired this with that first line.
836 · Jan 2017
Disturb Us...
Steve Page Jan 2017
Attributed to Sir Francis Drake.

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
with the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wilder seas
Where storms will show Your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.

We ask you to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push back the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

This we ask in the name of our Captain,
Who is Jesus Christ.
829 · Dec 2021
Play
Steve Page Dec 2021
Plastic pistols, cowboy hats
action men, palitoy combat

Hotspur, Tiger and Hurricane
leather footballs, broken panes

Matchbox, Corgi, Airfix, Meccano
Stickle Bricks, and (only) red and white Lego

Triang scooters, Raleigh Choppers
Dunlop plimsolls, orange space-hoppers

Down the park’s obstacle course
Witches Hat, iron rocking horse  

Bumps and scrapes, grazes and cuts
rub it all better, just-get-back-up

Home before dark, in time for tea
Billy and Ian, my sisters and me
London in the 60's
819 · Oct 2022
the fires remain
Steve Page Oct 2022
For so many years I felt the pull of the fires in my head
until the years drew them down to my chest
and then to my gut where they pushed me out to new fields
where blood fed the corn and we stood our ground
for the sake of family and for the joy of brotherhood's embrace.

In more recent times the fires have bled down,
fed into my hips and my knees, causing me to slow,
to sit and spend time passing on my story
to younger hearts who may dodge the spills and stumbles
and steer themselves to whiter fields and perhaps sow happier times.

Perhaps they will,
but I'll tell them -
the fires remain.
816 · May 2017
Seed
Steve Page May 2017
He may have been your father,
But he sure wasn't your daddy.
He may have once donated seed
But he didn't see it through.

He wasn't there long enough
To be worthy of your affection.
He didn't teach you anything
Cept how to be untrue.

Whatever you feel t'ward him
Don't let it redefine you.

The lovely man I see here now
Isn't credit to just one *****.
Thanks to a quote from Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2.
816 · Feb 2017
Enabled
Steve Page Feb 2017
Live out
Live loud
Live strong
And those like you
Will laugh in relief
That they are not alone
That they like you
Can be who they were born to be
And can do what they came in this world to do
Thank you for standing up: Lord Kevin Shinkwin.
816 · Dec 2021
A problem has been detected
Steve Page Dec 2021
Trouble reloading
Can't connect
Sending failed
Checking for updates

Tap-to-retry
Swipe to refresh
Try again later
Click YES to reset

Work will be lost
Session expired
Restart device
Attention required

Do Not Remind Me Again
(You know the feeling.)
814 · Jun 2023
What bullies are for
Steve Page Jun 2023
No need to thank me.
I mean, what are bullies for?

If not to force you
to face the unpalatable.
To confront you
with the cruelest kindness.

To unrelent with unfair truth
leaving you no choice,
but to fight for your life
and strengthen your defence.

What are best bullies for?
But to boost the beast
for when he's needed.

No need to thank me.
You'd do the same for me.
You need tough friends sometimes.
812 · Feb 2019
Secret self
Steve Page Feb 2019
My By Day - or my By Night -
which secret me - do you like?
Whichever you dream of,
- it's fine by me,
- my By My Self is where I'll be.
How much of you do you keep to yourself?
811 · May 2019
Mask
Steve Page May 2019
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.
Lines 5 &6 are from a movie.
808 · Nov 2018
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.
804 · Mar 2019
Heart
Steve Page Mar 2019
The bigger my heart,
the greater my capacity for hurt.

The more open my mind
the deeper I need to think.
803 · Oct 2018
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 for just a moment.
Pay the most careful attention -
This is my Son.
Listen to Him.
Reading Hebrews.
800 · Apr 2020
He is habour
Steve Page Apr 2020
'I hear the Father say,

"Your patience indeed is shallow
- but my restive child, rest and pray,
find in me your refuge,
I am all you need today."

The Lord is harbour. He is anchor.
And once this season passes,
once the channels open
He will be our compass

and we will sail.'
I used an old hymn as a catalyst:
Jesus Paid it All
– Elvina Hall, Maryland, USA (1865).

'I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small
Child of weakness, watch and pray
Find in Me thine all in all.”

Jesus paid it all, All to Him I owe
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.'
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