sensory explosion
sound as the bottle opens
pure nard pouring slowly out
smell hitting olfactory nerves
so powerful, overwhelming
taste of the perfume in the air
spreading over feet and floor
love's extravagance enacted

reception, reaction
his shock at waste, anger even
300 days of wages lost, all gone
should have been for the poor
welcome, acceptance
you'll always have those poor
this was for me, for my death
because she loves, audaciously

what prompts such profligacy
or turns love to faithlessness
no enemy would sell him out
take those thirty pieces of silver
rather his chosen, familiar friend
who'd heard the call, walked the walk
love, now that we clear understand
betrayal grows in our dark places


Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Lent
9th April 2025
following John 12.3-5 & Psalm 55.13-16

we'd grown up together
part of the crowd, for sure
but always as brothers
together in all that we did
inseparable in adventures
mischief and trouble
or stretched out in the sun
dancing in the rain
proud of our good looks
our strength and breeding
a class act definitely

and now separated out
chosen, but for what
primped and preened
looking our finest
strutting our stuff
couldn't be faulted
ushered in, space made
facing the crowds
silence falls, expectant
a choice is made
divided, first and last

words said, the high priest
in all his robes and finery
a prayer, and hands are laid
sins recited, not mine, theirs
but now my problem
for I'm cast out, driven
into the desert to live, to die
some kind of scapegoat
I look back to my brother
taken further in, higher up
a dagger falls on him, in me

year by year, century by century
we are chosen, unblemished
always an exquisite pair
the finest in all the herds
only the best for the temple
the desert and the altar
bearing the people's sins
though letting us pair of goats
carry the can is a bit twisted
responsibility avoidance I'd say
but this year its different

not goats but a man
and not just any man
this one's somehow special
the high priest said so
"it's better for you to have
one man die for the people
than the whole nation perish"
so they prepared themselves
lined up false witnesses
recruited a betrayer
and readied the altar


Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent
8th April 2025
following  John 11.50

plodding along
step after step after step
watch where I put my feet
avoiding what's slippy
those ankle-turners or worse
footing secure, certain

head in the map
compass course followed
way-markers ticked off
position checked
careful at the tricky points
definitive route trod

journey completed
an end point achieved
but missing the wonder
eyes never lifted to the hills
disconnect from the glory
created and creator
this thin place
avoided entirely
wasted, gone


Monday of the Fifth Week of Lent
7th April 2025
following Psalm 121.1-2

how many times, we ask
how often must I put up with it
that he gets away with stuff, again
she escapes punishment due
he walks all over people
she spreads malicious lies
distortions of the truth
he exploits, abuses his power
how long until justice, how long

but how long before I'm aware
the he and she that's hiding in me
my crimes, my misdemeanours
my short-comings and worse
sheltering behind a smokescreen
those complaints really about me
best quietly ignored, hopefully
the embarrassment avoided
responsibility ducked

I need, you need, we need
someone more reliable
consistent come what may
certain despite the vagaries of life
trustworthy through all its storms
whose steadfast love never ceases
nor mercies ever come to an end
who greets us new every morning
great in his faithfulness

sadly humanity struggles, I do
despite best aspirations
need to look deeper, wider, higher


Fifth Sunday of Lent
6th April 2025
following Lamentations 3.22-23

how many layers
what depths of strata
are sufficient for interment
it's six feet under for a body
but what's needed to bury deep
failures of omission and commission
twists and distortions of mind and spirit
those things of which our souls are afraid
though we find the old labels disturbing
iniquities, transgressions and sins
whether acknowledged or not
uncomfortable or worse
disturbance too great
to take ownership
a risk too far
easier to deny
to hide from them
pretend their not mine
but I can't forever evade
be on the run, trying to escape
who I am good, bad and indifferent
responsibility, the start of becoming
honesty, the beginning of wisdom
opens the door to forgiveness


Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent
5th April 2025
following Psalm 32.5-6

tectonic normality
fractures, crumbles, falls
disconcertingly rearranges itself
the ground beneath my feet undone
all my expectations and certitudes
the very heart of being, my feel for it
solidity ebbs and flows, liquefaction
sure foundations tsunami swept
certainties overwhelmed
ruptured, erased
gone

temptation
to stack up the debris
rebuild as best as may be
from ruins some semblance
of what was, had been before
clinging to that cherished past
dug from memory's museum
while gathering the shards
too hard to contemplate
metamorphic future
outwith engagement
unknown, unsafe, risk too far
not to be trusted, and yet
entirely inevitable

change
adaptation
evolve or die
as always it was
and forever will be
normals old to new
despite protestations
and attempts to ignore
so in the flux, the vortex
where is certainty found
to what can I hold fast
that endures forever
in the maelstrom
the crucible
me


Friday of the Fourth Week of Lent
4th April 2025
following Psalm 102.12-13

another day, another bomb, another shelling
another round of death, injury, despair
families fleeing from one place of danger
to ..... well there is no place of safety
free from a bomb-aimer's cross-hairs
not watched through drone-pilot's screen
excluded from tank-driver's fire zones
trying to find such shelter as can be
surrounded by the stench of the dead
among the rubble, broken homes
shattered schools, hospitals, mosques
parents, children, old, young surviving
deemed a non-people with no rights
lives, homes, land, future extirpated
sacrificed on the altar of war
holocausts to ethnic cleansing
those long-harboured ambitions
for racial and religious purity
promised land, the river to the sea
homeland for us not them

and yet, says the prophet
'the people have forsaken me
have profaned this place
making offerings to other gods
filling this place
with the blood of the innocent'

so to whom should we listen, him
or to the politicians and demagogues
generals and war-mongers
are there no peace-makers
not the peace-wishers, peace-hopers
woe-is-us hand-wringers
nor those determined on a final solution
the land-siezers and settlers
the Costa-del-Gaza developers
for whom there is only one peace, ours
total surrender, complete exile

and yet, as another prophet said
'he will judge between many peoples
and arbitrate between mighty nations
they will beat their swords into ploughshares
and their spears into pruning-hooks
nation will not lift sword against nation
or ever again be trained to make war
but each will sit under their vine and fig tree with no one to trouble him'

except they bulldozed the vines
figs and olives


Thursday of the Fourth Week of Lent
3rd April 2025
following Jeremiah 19.4 & Micah 4.3-4

there are those who know their flock
each numbered, ear tag attached, unique
recognisable, a marking, a gait, a quirk
bred, tallied, recorded, owned, marketed
a way of life, a business, an income
a shepherd and his sheep

another seeks such sheep as he may find
those who respond to the call
answer his summons
from wherever they call home
not owned but following of choice
who take the pathway, accept the discipline
a way of life, pattern of becoming
the Shepherd and his flock

some call him a rustler, a thief
a dealer in stolen stock
abhorred by respectable shepherds
needs locking up, running out of town
or maybe worse
but come what may
caught by his vision, inspired
those sheep take to his leading
stick the course regardless of others
and the Shepherd, what of him?
'I know my own and my own know me'
and when push comes to shove
'I lay down my life for my sheep'
there's shepherds and the Shepherd


Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Lent
2nd April 2025
following John 10.14-16

childhood days
drifting by in a miasma
of new experiences, stuff learnt
a world explored with bold or timid wonder
secure in family, hopefully, friends made
then school, later college, maybe uni
and an ever expanding world of work
holidays, personal relationships
and still the days drift by
with that almost invincible certainty
that even the troubling bits, break-ups
a job lost, illness can all be overcome
twenties turn to thirties, some are shocked
others take it in their stride
rent, maybe mortgage, even children
responsibility at home and work
the pressures crowding in
thirties replaced by forties
forties by fifties

life flying by
slipping through fingers
more grey hairs to hide or ignore
where have all the days, the years gone
what was once easy now less so
intimations of mortality
some untimely deaths
among family and friends
and those discomforting questions
nagging at the subconscious
what has been the purpose?
what does it all mean?
what has been of real value?
in this life? the eternal perspective?
and underneath, most disconcerting
how long have I got?
fifties hopefully to sixties
seventies and ...... ?
'so teach us to number our days
that we may apply our hearts to wisdom' 


Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Lent
2nd April 2025
following Psalm 90.12

icy east wind
whipping over fells
curling around barns
squeezing under doors
past ill-fitting windows
slicing through the layers
freezing breath and fingertips
digging stock from snowdrifts
lambing morning, noon and night
daily feed-round, on quadbike or foot
maintaining fences, building walls
protecting from rustlers and dogs
set loose on sheep for 'sport'
bio-security, official papers
vets, auctions and dealers
a shepherd's working day
woman, dog and flock
'the sheep follow her
for they know her voice'
what makes a good shepherd?


Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent
1st April 2025
following John 10.4

heated till the dross is burnt away
the refiner's fire of love and holiness
furnace of hearts, minds and spirits
from which emerges soul gold
moulded, crafted, burnished
designer's plan revealed

but who am I
and what's my life
how to assess my being
my motives and actions tested
against the yardstick, the plumbline
of what's good and godly, just and true
all that's of self-giving love and compassion
which lies deep rooted in the heart of being
the nature, character, purposes of God

just a little something to ponder
to explore, with which to wrestle
as 'I commune with my heart in the night;
my spirit searching for understanding"


Monday of the Fourth Week of Lent
31st March 2025
following Psalm 77.6

the list is endless
through the pages of history
women known and unknown
though mainly unknown
as men mostly wrote the histories
women who between them did it all
led countries, commanded armies
designed, built, discovered, explored
researched, taught, sang, danced
painted, sculpted and otherwise created
prophets, priests, monastics
doctors, the wise women
wives, mothers, life-bearers
and so, so much more

so on Mothering Sunday
or Mother's Day as some would have it
we remember them, celebrate even
flowers, chocolates, breakfast in bed
all a bit saccharine, a touch twee for
the resilience, the grit, the determination
it takes to be a woman, a mother
in all the complications and
complexity surrounding such words
managing the stuff of daily life
not just in nice comfortable places
with relaxed cosy lifestyles
but in the war zones, disaster areas
floods, droughts, earthquakes
facing economic exploitation
*** trafficking, as migrants
caring, consoling, healing
doing what needs to be done
to make homes, raise children
somehow keep family going
knowing in the end to keep them
you have to let them go
bone of your bone
flesh of your flesh
'a sword will pierce
your own soul too'

such women, such mothering
is deserving of celebration
so, to misquote Ben Sira
'let us now praise famous women,
and our mothers in their generations'


Mothering Sunday
Fourth Sunday of Lent
30th March 2025
following Luke 2.33 & Ecclesiasticus 44.1

text without context
almost meaningless
used or misused
to justify choices
actions, inaction or
passive disengagement
from circumstances
of what has been
what might be
what is

'into your hands
I commend my spirit'
words from the cross
almost Jesus' last
his ending sounding
like failure, horror amidst
heart-break, disbelief
and yet

and yet
the words quoted
carry greater meaning
of vision incarnate, enacted
'for you have redeemed me
O Lord God of truth'
no ending here but resilience
persistence, fulfilment
and in God's good time
doors breaking open
of future hope as
the Psalmist
writes


Saturday of the Third Week of Lent
29th March 2025
following Psalm 31

'My God, my God
why have you forsaken me
and are so far from my salvation
from the words of my distress?'

words torn
from the darkest places
of mind, soul, spirit
no sense of hope
future possibilities
evaporated, snuffed out
in deepest despair

and yet

the words were written
pondered, reflected
became part of worship
the text of scripture

not the end

in the darkness
a glimmer of light found
glimpse of a scintilla of hope
perhaps discovering
in the darkness, God
as much as in light

a future
different
but future
nonetheless


Friday of the Third Week of Lent
28th March 2025
following Psalm 22.1

"what is truth" the politician asked
surrounded by those wanting their truth heard
and only theirs, none other
no inconvenient truths telling different stories

seeking  a grand theory of everything
scientists delve such truths of the universe
as can be measured
but what of those myriad things which can't

religious folk know their truths
certainties tested over centuries, sacrosanct
rejecting other perspectives
yet if God is God no human knows the whole

and I know my truths
my experiences, perceptions rationalised
those ideas which I hold fast
so don't give me your truths, confuse the facts

"know the truth" one man said
"and the truth will set you free" but how
and which truth, whose
knowing, that's the problem, what's the test

I'll just stick with what I know
that's the easy way, keeps everything simple
alone with my certainties
me in my corner, you in yours, beyond reach


Thursday of the Third Week of Lent
27th March 2025
following Luke 8.32 and John 18.38

searchlight cutting the skies
lighthouse signifying safety or danger
dim bulb faintly illuminates the darkness
waving phone-lights signalling connection
purposeful light with laser sharp focus
light creeping around locked doors
lantern searching out the path
torch of the night time guide
starlight crossing the eons
in waves and photons
signature of creation
foundation of life
then there is light
that's the source
the light of lights
in whom is our
being


Wednesday of the Third Week of Lent
26th March 3025
following John 8.12

Mary said
‘Here am I the handmaid of the Lord
let it be with me according to your word.’

there are handmaids
and then there are handmaids
what you make of them
their choices and consequences
depends upon the tale
how you choose to read it, or tell it
child-rearing or parenting
a decision freely made
adventure however challenging
willingly undertaken
or 'choice' that is no choice
subjection by culture, law or force
coerced, imposed, exploited
a baby factory
to be used, used up, discarded

some things don't change
roller-coaster  hormones and emotions
****** changes, welcome or not
the hours and pains of labour
post-partum complexity
the what and how of this child
sleep-deprivation, exhaustion
hopes, fears, love, hate, anxiety
and all the pains of letting go
whether compelled, forced
or because that's what must be
growing into who they should become

said to Mary, said to all mothers
'a sword will pierce your own soul too'


The Annunciation
25thMarch 2025

'For you are the God who takes no pleasure in wickedness; 
no evil can dwell with you'.
Psalm 5.4



this is better than that
more truthful, more honest
has more integrity, is more just
more loving, more merciful
has more compassion
gives more hope
trusts more

all day, every day
we make judgements
rarely ever polarities, absolutes
at the ends of the spectrum
I decide between nuances
my chosen subtleties
of distinction

how then to navigate
the spheres of earth and heaven
my fallibility facing the holiness of God
exposed to his unambiguous call for
purity, goodness, self-giving love
to which I can only ever aspire
in my broken inadequacy

yet time and again
stories of hope surface
those expecting condemnation
finding forgiveness and mercy
an encouragement to start over
not where I am that matters
but the course I set


Monday of the Third Week of Lent
24th March 2024

tefillin, mezuzahs
tied to arm and forehead
fixed to doorposts
carrying the Law
commands for holy living
expectations of godliness
symbolically borne

bread and wine
patten with chalice
aumbry and monstrance
the presence of Christ
in which we are enjoined
to transform and renew
signs seeking holiness

beyond such symbols
outwith the bounds
of fastened scriptures
bread broken, wine outpoured
surpassing desire for control
religiosity in all its power
to find thin places of being
generational becoming
God in encounter


Third Sunday of Lent
23rd March 2025
following Deuteronomy 6.4-9
Luke 22.14-20

they saw the cliff edge
getting nearer and nearer
he wouldn't, couldn't
it's all just bluster
it's got to be
then

the edge gives way
solid crumbles
void opens
the expected
the reliable
the certain
all that was sure
those fixed points
on which we relied
everything trustworthy
emptying to nothing
falling into, well who knows
signed away, lost, abandoned
by presidential decree
plunging


22nd March 2025

shut behind gates and walls
barbed wire, guards and guns
necessities of life
food, water, electricity
blocked, forbidden
homes, health care, education
with deliberation laid waste
destruction raining down
on men, women and children
especially the children
killed to order
death by command
the next phase of that
final solution long envisaged
diligently worked towards
by those twisted visionaries
prepared to sacrifice
people deemed a non-people
whose rights and lives
are forfeit to
political decision
legal artifice
public othering
and military force
Warsaw 1940 to '43
Gaza, West Bank, East Jerusalem
to be expunged, extirpated
dead or gone

history repeats itself
it has to
no-one listens
while the world looks on
and some plan condominiums


22nd March 2025

envisioned:
a city of hope
where justice rules
compassion reigns
kindness flourishes
mercy walks the streets
the thinnest of places
of encounter
to live, to know
the source of being
even as we are known
locus of becoming

experience:
fighting for holy
places and spaces
temple, synagogue
church and mosque
for control of access
correct understanding
suppression of alternates
perceptions and theologies
the slaughter,  the horror
the blood soaked land
always the land

Jerusalem


Second Sunday of Lent
16th March 2025

of heads

survival of the fittest
the selfish gene
Darwinian evolution
where might is right
the exercise of power
for me and for mine

and tails

kenotic love
for neighbours, strangers
persecutors even enemies
transcending evolution
power that benefits all
a mutual flourishing

and spaces interweaving

I will be your god
if you will be my people
ever a choice
maybe


Second Sunday of Lent
16th March 2025

chosen
commissioned
but why, for what
forty days, forty nights
wilderness fast and prayer
solitude, thought, reflection
resisting temptations of power
physical, political, religious
choose another path
to act justly
love mercy
walky humbly
with God
whole
entire
through life
even death
and beyond
choosing


First Sunday of Lent
9th March 2025

‘Peace, peace
when there is no peace'
you may bully, bribe, obfuscate
enforce your will on those weaker
side with the violator, the invader
cut yourself a slice of the action
play pat-a-cake with war criminals
who dishonour humanity
desecrate the law
pretend indeed
it does not exist
rewrite history
to that effect
but without justice
there is no peace
not for Ukraine
Israeli nor Palestinian
not for anyone
neither your own


6th March 2025

take time to pause
to stop, think
reflect, ponder
away from the mad rush
kaleidoscopic busyness
that is daily living
time to fast
for some even from food
find a new rhythm
sound a fresh deep
paint emergent vision
touch the face of eternity
flavour of budding encounter
and to hold the moment
forty days and forty nights
sink it slowly into being
penetrate the barriers
established, defended
to avoid perturbations
disquiets such as these
infiltrate the spirit
illuminate the soul
I and Thou
Thou and I
refreshed

Ash Wednesday
5th March 2025

reflected, refracted
sun in a dew drop
captured by the melt
like diamonds
hanging from twigs, branches
falling through the void
fire in flight

2nd March 2025

so many ideas about god
different races, different peoples
each with their own ideas
cultural, national, universal
mono or polytheistic
worship of the planet
of characteristics thereof
or human rationality
ourselves in the place of god

so many resolving
into what justifies my thought
my wishes and actions
what I do and fail to do
me, my people, my race, my nation
so many supporting
us rather than them
the elect against the outsider
our people not the foreigner
and when push comes to shove
those conflicts and wars
that such divisions always bring
the gods back me not you
they're on the side of my battalions
my ends justifying the means
my might always being right
or so my take on the gods tell me

so what is the power and purpose of god?
what difference does he/she/they make?
why this god not that god or any god at all?

perhaps we need god
recognising our faults and failings
the limits to understanding and wisdom
a universe so far beyond comprehension
our finite and limited thinking
facing questions beyond discovery
perhaps we need the awkward questions
god keeps disconcertingly asking
how we justify what we do
our use and abuse of power
the way we do relationships
from home, to work, to nations, to religion?

there was a backwoods preacher
who held up a mirror before us
our being and doings
our actions and inactions
'love the Lord your God
with all your heart, mind, soul and strength'
it's easy to say we do
that we accept external scrutiny
but the evidence says otherwise
then he stretched our thinking
'love your neighbour as yourself'
reminding us our neighbours
include those we think of as enemies
or consider us the same
so he said 'love your enemy
and pray for those who persecute you'
and persecute you they will
for the powerful hate nothing more
mark out as their enemy
than those revealing their power
abused in contrast to such love
so 'love as I have loved you'
sacrificially, self-giving, unbounded
by time, space or circumstance
not theoretically but actively
'to love mercy, act justly
and walk humbly with your God'
and when we get it wrong
or they get it wong
for we all always get it wrong
'forgive our sins as we forgive
those who sin against us'

of course he didn't last
for those with power didn't like
the mirror he faced us with
so we had him killed, crucified
far easier to smash the mirror
than to change, transform
get rid of the nuisance
so we can get on with business
carry on as normal
with a warning left hanging there
for others with jumped up ideas
job done, so we said, so we thought .....

14th February 2025
Stephen Cooper

'Alice laughed. "There's no use trying," she said. "One can't believe impossible things."

"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."'
(from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)


never mind the White Queen
said the grinning president
those billionaires whispering in his ear
as he signed more executive orders
while falling down the rabbit-hole
the world has never seen
how many impossible things
I can order before breakfast
it'll be beautiful, fantastic
no one's imagined what I can do

..... so don't worry about the convictions
being a self-confessed ****** predator
those lies, alternative facts and truths
they make me who the people love
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I don't need any government
to tell me what I can't do
sack them all, they're bad, all bad
I don't need evidence I just know
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and don't worry about Congress
the rioters got it right
but now they're mine, I own them
why wouldn't they want me?

..... and the Supreme Court
my placemen and women
they say nothing I can do is illegal
the divine right of kings
why wouldn't they want me?

..... and forget the Constitution
only two terms of office
I can remake it in my image
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I've got God sorted
told him he's on my team
on the side of the big battalions
that might is indeed right
the end does justify the means
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I can take over Greenland
Panama and Canada
make them American states
citizens to salute the flag
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I can do a great real estate deal
transform the Middle East
Mar-a-Gaza will be a great resort
what's wrong with ethnic cleansing
it's only a couple of million people
send in the bulldozers let's get started
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I've torn up all those Treaties
countries need to get on board
do things my way, the American way
or they'll get what's coming to them
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and those wars, terrible
they'd better stop when I say
or all hell will break loose
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I'll shut down trade
unless they do it on my terms
let America dominate the world
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I'll kick out the foreigners
round them up, send them home
(except those my companies need)
build the walls higher, deeper, wider
why wouldn't they want me?

...... and I'll ...... hell I'm the President
I can do anything I want
six impossible things before breakfast?
I'll  make America great again
re-make it as Trumpland, Mar-A-merica
I've barely got started
let's do the deal
it'll be beautiful, fantastic
why wouldn't they want me?

12th February 2025

they stood at the graveside
icy February winds
sleet near horizontal
wrapped tight against the cold
feet sinking slowly in the mud
sad for the dearly departed
truly heart-broken
but mostly thinking of the pub
a roaring fire, a glass of .....
and getting warm again, please

a particularly viscious blast
the vicar's glasses fly
bouncing off the coffin
splashing in the mud
six feet under
he carries on trying hard
to remember the words
he stumbles to a halt
looks up, around
trying to focus on blurry faces
raises his hand in blessing
'for what we're about to receive ......'

10th February 2025

from top deck of the bus
train's window seat
fleeting glimpses
kaleidoscopic images
a yard, a garden
old and cherished
a beloved motorbike
bonfire smoke, barbecue aroma
discretely hung washing
somewhere to soak up the sun
privately to luxuriate
life's obsolescence stacked high
junk by time abandoned
secret worlds observed
tantalising perspectives
enjoyed with guilty pleasure

we hold these truths to be self-evident
that only some men are created equal
and that they are endowed
by this Trump administration
with certain alienable rights
that only a few will enjoy life
liberty and the pursuit of happiness
among whom are MAGA supporters
tech billionaires, international dictators
and those who believe might is right

democrats, supporters of the rule of law
those working for equality in diversity
Mexicans, Canadians and Panamanians
Greenlanders and Palestinians
and ..... and ..... and ..... need not apply

if Trump has abolished diversity
by presidential decree
has he abolished himself
his alternative truths and facts
or just other's diversity?

I love those irregular verbs
of the English language:

I'm a unique individual
You're a little bit weird
He's a total wacko

an ode to humanity, possibly …..


back in the day
a message was preached
there's no such thing as society
just individuals, only individuals
in pursuit of self-interest
which rooted, grew, flourished
and community crumbled
a little

back in the day
a message was preached
there's no finites, no absolutes
just bubbles of self-defined reality
alternative facts, truths and meaning
with certainty in my diversity
common language failed
a little

back in the day
a message was preached
there's no definable morality
no fixed behavioural norms
you choose yours and I'll do mine
in widening ethical divergence
culture and family withered
a little

back in the day
a message was preached
that in the hierarchy of being
my individual freedom, my rights
trump social responsibility
with licence superseding law
common good decayed
a little

back in the day
a message was whispered
along the corridors of power
copied in the markets, out on the streets
the eleventh commandment rules
'Thou shalt not get caught'
kicked away, foundations fell
significantly

but others say
‘a person is a person only
in relationship with other people’
atomization is not good enough
self-interest will never suffice
‘who is my neighbour’ they ask
so community coheres
a little

others search out
diverse patterns of meaning
evidence of the truths of being
explored by artist’s brush, writer’s pen
lost chord of the universe sought
by scientists and musicians alike
the language of infinity grows
a little

yet others ponder
humanity, this social animal
that despite survival of the fittest
‘it takes a whole village to raise a child’
so I doing me and you doing you
will never be good enough
for we must do us
a little

others wrestle
with those rights of being
of believing and becoming
that we owe ourselves and others
of what we can expect of them
and they can require of us, to
'love mercy, act justly, walk humbly
a little

still others know
that might is not right
ends do not justify means
God’s not on the side of big battalions
that secrets will always out
and lies will never hold
so integrity takes root
a little

in this present day
what hope is asked, dreamed
amidst humanity deconstructing and rebuilding
society disassembling and reconstituting
community disintegrating and reforming
family dismantling and reshaping
for what do we strive
a little


The Eleventh: 4th February 2025
..... Reviewed: 8th February 2025

lies, **** lies and statistics
they used to say ...... but

now it's lies, **** lies, president and his cronies
social media barons and propaganda
alternative truths normalised

trust lies on its death-bed
poisoned
sacrificed for power

alternatively ........

walk down the passageway
journey into darkling gloom
accompanied by names
slowly read, persistent
insistent with each step
another and another
and always one more
a hundred, a thousand
tens of thousands
and still the names roll on
into the dark for days, weeks
turn a corner into the black
enter the glass labyrinth
surrounded by pin-***** lights
by the hundred, by the thousand
by the myriads of thousands
five small flames
reflected and reflecting
and reflected ever more
in remembrance
of the children

a million and a half
shot, starved, gassed, burnt
the diabolical villainy
the evil of the camps
of the planners and designers
of the builders and profiteers
of the guards and politicians
and of those who looked away
and still the names roll on
insistent and persistent
into the dark for days, weeks
a hundred, a thousand
tens of thousands
hundreds of thousands
the children
dead

walk down pathways
into the **** zones
of kibbutz and concert field
to burial grounds and memorials
or between the piles of rubble
once houses and flats
shops and mosques
hospitals and schools
now carrying the stench
of death, the un-buried
beneath shattered concrete
by the hundred, the thousand
though not yet the million
no-one reading their names
no memorial disturbingly peaceful
but still it's the children
their deaths, each death
an evil chosen, consummated
by the planners and strategists
by the zealots and profiteers
by the military and politicians
and by those who look away
the children
always the children
forever the children
dead

holocausts
each and every one
of humanity
of hope

they've taken their land
or at least most of it
their homes and farms
businesses and communities
they control their water
their borders, their rights
deemed them a non-people
they aren't Palestinian, they say
and Palestine is not their home
never has been, not legitimately
so say their usurpers
hiding behind their legal fictions
with judicial expropriation
and apartheid-like laws
waging their hundred year war
of slow, steady ethnic cleansing
following the Joshua model
the curse of destruction
by armed settler land grabs
bomb and armoured bulldozer
supported, encouraged and funded
by allies across the world

ignored are the peacemakers
foundering are reconcilers' hopes
parched, those who hunger
and thirst for saving justice
shredded by propaganda
bombed into submission
swamped by a sea of indifference
the wrong side of history
politically dispensable, disposable
it's open season ........

slowly they make their way
to rubble piles they once called home
passing graves marked and unmarked
tens of thousands, numbers mounting
plus those uncounted 'neath the stones

slowly they make their way
those held hostage, long imprisoned
freedom restored and families renewed
past shrines to the dead and missing
hundreds by name and photo known

conflict on hold, maybe
hundred year war and more, on pause
mediation notwithstanding
battle for twice claimed land's too fierce
for hatred's cauldron, what hope peace?

chance that diff'rent vision
might disrupt war's propaganda?
work for peaceful coexistence
disarm ethnic cleansing's purpose
in this unholy Holy Land?

indisputably elected
with his proven track record
according to the courts
of criminality and lies
and clear from his own words
a confessed ****** predator
while evidenced by his deeds
power pursued and abused
yet elected nonetheless
an unchallengable right to act
however illegal for others
by judges made sacrosanct

"we hold these truths to be self-evident
that all men are created equal ....... '
though some more equal than others

'God bless America', a fading hope
America dominated by power, undoubtedly
but at whose expense, the question?

while writing in this form demands control
to squeeze ideas within its metric frame
as rhyme and rhythm work to make the whole
concocting words with fiercely burning flame
to touch the heart and so the soul reclaim
from this dour world with all its cant and show
and raise such peace and joy with hope proclaim
so gaining traction transformations flow
that shape afresh to lift above our earthly woe

celebrations in the street
the possibility of one small step
in the vague direction
well not of peace
but of ending the hot war
of the active shooting
the bombs, the missiles
the utter destruction
and holding of hostages
a ceasefire

....... maybe

maybe if what's been agreed holds
maybe if the killing stops
if the hostages are released
if the soldiers pull out
if the obliteration ends
if there is security from attack
if there is land justice
if rebuilding can begin
if there is hope for a different future
if ........

but so much has been destroyed
so many lives lost
so much land stolen
in over one hundred years of conflict
seventy-five years of war
ebbing and flowing through the decades
so many still dreaming of ethnic cleansing
politicking and fighting to make it happen

....... maybe a ceasefire
but peace? don't hold your breath

galaxies whirling passed infinitude
visions of history, stars birthing or long dead

a mere four and a half billion years
orbiting some star nondescript

tectonic interplay shapes by increment
mountain and valley, atmosphere and ocean

while locked in rocks of geological time
fearsome jaws, bone-crushing teeth

yet predating dinosaurs most ancient
a cockroach scuttles across the floor

as hurricane's waltz, El Niño's pavane
wrap energy in wind and weather

the whole panoply of life, blue whale to virus
develops, adapts, evolves till new

so journeys **** sapiens two million years
stone tools to annihilation's potential

what is humankind that you are mindful of them
human beings that for them you care?

when humanity has carved its epitaph
what next for the cockroach planet?

hammering home the nail
hand-picked or bequeathed
which picture to hang?
to set aside, let go?

and of those books
well thumbed and worn
which takes its place
in straitened space?

at the changing of the guard
what fails to make the cut?
cherished yet not enough
treasured but relinquished

predator watching, waiting
yet statuary stillness
belies instant readiness
the moment to strike
action, a blue-orange flash
with beauty, death's killer splash
'ere serenity resting

"blessed are the peacemakers"
said a wandering teacher
not merely the peace-hopers
peace-wishers or peace-dreamers
"love your enemies and pray
for those who persecute you"
was more of his teaching too

a much diff'rent train of thought
from that of the Colt salesman
"precision, accuracy
balanced and reliable
it's 'the gun that won the west'"
Peacemaker, alternate kind
your choice, your consequences

horizon cuts the sinking sun
colour slow drains from winter sky
by ones and twos, tens and twenties
low over fields, curving round trees
swirling gather, twisting, climbing
as thousands, more, tens of thousands
in intricate aerial ballet
starlings sculpt transient beauty
a function of proximity
speed and distance in soaring flight
form shifts with shapes fantastical
ever changing, unrepeated
until in the twilight gloaming
the murmeration drifts to roost
chattering till in darkness lost

...... pencil stubs left nestling in a box
a record of the stories written
poems crafted
plays conversed
drawings sketched
equations wrestled
reports drafted
ideas mapped out
procrastination doodled
blockages surmounted
graft sweated
the flow
of thought, imagination and paper
taking shape, to fly ......

keeping the tally
those lives cut short, expunged
broken beyond any mending
the minds, bodies, spirits
buried beneath collapsed concrete
never to be found
on all the sides
of all the conflicts
of all the wars
of all the exploitations
of all the degradations
of all the depredations
humanity's self-evisceration
extincting species
decimating nature

who's counting

the tally
those lives made possible, birthed
createded and nurtured
restored beyond brokenness
the minds, bodies, spirits
breaking through the weight of concrete
finding the light, the air, the rain
co-operatively seeking
respite from the wars
reconciling the conflicts
releasing from exploitation
rising above the degradation
repairing the depredations
a renewing of humanity
one among the species
balanced in nature

who's counting
doing the eternal calculus
determining what's to be inscribed
as humanity's epitaph
of my contribution to it

inspiration's deluge floods the canvas
rivulets, eddies, broad flowing streams
swirling in and around form and detail
lazily drifting here, urgently hastening there
colours intricate, complex and intriguing
capture light of place, moment or people
through paint and brush stroke flowing
a creative passion worked and re-worked
searching, striving for imagination's whole
done: persistently the river meanders on
illuminates responsive minds and spirits all

'I am whom I will be'
the account God gave of himself
or so it was reported

we tried to follow the example

'I farm therefore I am'
though often the crops failed

'I build therefore I am'
but not long and edifices crumbled

'I conquor therefore I am'
yet kingdoms tumbled, empires fell

'I trade therefore I am'
until the next crash and bankruptcy

'I do religion therefore I am'
still God refuses to fit the boxes I make

'I think therefore I am'
but my best thoughts are inadequate

'I study science therefore I am'
though creation remains beyond my fathoming

'I make music therefore I am'
searching still for that eternal lost chord

'I do politics therefore I am'
yet the people won't accept what's good for them

'I create art therefore I am'
reaching always for something beyond

'I do war therefore I am'
but wars to end all wars never have

'I have acted boldly therefore I am'
never entirely certain what I was aiming for

'I shop therefore I  am'
to take my mind of what I can't achieve

'I surf the internet therefore I am'
though it's only as good as what's uploaded

'I travel therefore I am'
meeting folk who no more know themselves than I

'I take selfies therefore I am'
while I may not accomplish anything
I've a great picture of me doing it

'I am whom I will be'
to become, dare I risk encounter the 'I am'?