doors locked
access secured
windows shuttered
airwaves blocked
cameras banned
tech discarded
mics absent
media exclusion
briefings forbidden
journos pontificate

black smoke

red hats
old men, mostly
of power, certainly
prayer hopefully
decision makers
assume seclusion
incommunicado
from prying eyes
listening ears
secrecy vowed

black smoke

business
politics no doubt
discussion, debate
job and person spec
a space carved out
time and freedom
scope for vision
to ponder, pray
spirit vistas
seek God

black smoke

insight
inspiration
reaching far
into the silence
echoes of eternity
beyond knowing
resonates, shaping
wells of the soul
spirits coalesce
chosen

white


8th May 2025

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

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

'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'?

spear ****** avoids mistake
always thorough, the romans
dead no doubt about it, then
hurried burial, borrowed tomb
silence of the grave

blithely oblivious life goes on
festival in the temple celebrated
somehow missing its point
business in the markets as usual
too important to fail

sun persists in shining
planets in their orbits dance
galaxies whirl across the void
cut loose from their moorings
in the silence adrift

the universe holds breath
Word through whom all things
came into being, even life itself
Word made flesh who dwelt among us
heartbeat of the cosmos absent

that silence
when we have killed God


Saturday of Holy Week
19th April 2025
following John 1.1-14 and John 19.38-42

'a man of sorrows
acquainted with grief'
song of the suffering servant
'wounded for our rebellions
crushed by our guilt'
'led like a lamb to the slaughter'
some say he was afflicted by God
despised, struck down, punished
others suggest blame lies elsewhere
in the evil choices of humanity
its wars, conflicts, exploitations
those darkest, deepest of places
where the devil walks
in the diabolical decisions
of hearts and minds enacted
or the craven failure to act
in history and the present day
yet even in such places
'by his wounds we are healed'
for even as we killed him
of those who did the deed
and of those who stood aside
he found the grace to pray
'Father forgive them
they know not what they do'
and we need it



Good Friday
18th April 2025
following Isaiah 52.13 - 53.12
and Luke 23.34

the chosen one
delight of the soul
bearer of the spirit
presenting fair judgement
gentle amidst the world's woes
speaks quietly in the city streets
the bruised reed he will not break
neither ***** the faltering wick
grows not faint nor weary
not to be crushed until
that judgement
is established
but then


Monday of Holy Week
14th April 2025
following Isaiah 42:1-4

disciple's ear
follower's heart
believer's tongue
words of comfort
for the weary
light in dark places
for stumblers
saving justice
to be upheld
what's not to like

and yet shamed
struck and beaten
insults, spitting
they've gone for me
gone hard, big time
but how to react
like for like, eye for eye
I'd be no better than they
but to rise above it
is it in me
can I find it to
stick to his ways
cleave to his path
hold fast to him
resolute

can I
I must


Wednesday of Holy Week
16th April 2025
following Isaiah 50.4-11

I thought I had it sorted
what I was meant to be doing
prophet to the people of God
call them back to his ways
to walk on his paths

often they didn't listen
but I was determined, set
message like sharp arrows
voice a whetted sword
to cut to the chase

wearisome mind
they didn't want to hear
rarely took me seriously
made the right noises
but never changed

now that isn't enough
a change of job description
not just for the people of Israel
today, same message for all
me, prophet to the world

who'd have thought
who will listen


Tuesday of Holy Week
15th April 2025
following Isaiah 47.1-7

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

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

scenes glimpsed almost frozen
while life goes on around
passing at speed, never resting
those stop-motion moments

supper
garden
betrayal
arrest
trial
Pilate
sentence
scou­rging
cross
nails
theives
mother
forgiveness
death
spear
burial
s­tone
guards
morning
tomb
empty
body
gone
angels
"he is not dead
he is risen"
meeting
alive

how to comprehend
the incomprehensible
to haul on board
reality beyond understanding
except that it was, it is, it will be
we saw, we touched, we spoke
we witnessed, we know


Monday of Easter Week
21st April 2025
following Mark 16.1-8

there's always an off-ramp
when the challenges of life
the demands of integrity
of truth, of justice and peace
compassion and  mercy
seem too great, all too much
there's always a way out

but get-out clauses
come with a price tag
a cost I cannot escape
who I am, my self-respect
when I look myself in the eye
saying nothing of the impact
on others of my choices

I can tell myself lies
polish the masque I hide behind
repeat those distortions to others
keep burnishing the public image
but no way can I ever evade
the mirror-test, the judgement
what lies beneath my facade

there is another choice
no way out, the way through
to hold course, weather the storm
look challenge in the eye, even my failures
ever in the valley of the shadow of death
for there will always be deaths
the little ones, the big one

we may make harbour
somewhat battered, broken
even rescued from the rocks
of our own making, other's devising
but never alone, for sharing the voyage
the storm-rider who's light we follow
and voice calls us home

Saturday of the Fifth Week of Lent
12th April 2025
following Psalm 23

bound by iron
long beyond dead
amphitheatre visited
by graffiti artists and
night-time drunks
Tasso's oak remains
that hillside sentinel
overlooking his beloved
Roma, city of his dreams
where beneath lost leaves
he pondered poems, epics
an imagination once living
which long since penned
verses of love and war
that sometimes escape
the page to live again
while on that *****
beneath dead wood
trapped by iron's bond
quercus sapling grows
a new oak for Tasso


25th April 2025
Roma

...... 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 ......

fickle, fickle, fickle
changeable as the weather
so easy to excite, manipulate, sway
longing for a bandwagon to climb aboard
the newest, hottest intoxicating infatuation
tearing branches from the trees to wave
carpeting the road with their cloaks
press in, try to catch a glimpse
to be able to say "I was there"
no selfies then, but I was there
as he passed by, riding a donkey
didn't seem anyone special and yet
it was as if his gravity captured us
drawn into his orbit we had to be there
then the shouts began, voices raised
"hosanna to the son of David
blessed is he who is coming
in the name of the Lord
hosanna in the highest heavens"
crowd pushing, shoving, dust rising
something of a rolling maul
sweeping down the hill
towards the city gates
numbers ever growing
shouts build, chants louder
people caught up with, part of
well whatever it is that's going on

and then

our crowd met others
those pushing, shoving
trading by the gates
getting into the city
catching up on news
our shouts lost in the hubbub
the crowd drifts away, soon gone
other business needing to be done
suddenly just a bloke, a donkey
so what was the fuss about
the excitement fading
till the next time
and what'll that be

fickle


Palm Sunday, the start of Holy Week
13th April 2025
following Matthew 21:9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"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

‘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

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

we had our expectations
clear ideas of who we wanted
visionary of power, glory who'd
raise the people, lead an army
restore the temple's power
kick the romans into touch
re-establish the kingdom
certain in our anticipation

but he didn't tick our boxes
came from the wrong town
hung around the wrong people
did the wrong kind of miracles
at the wrong time, wrong place
criticised the religious leaders
challenged abuses of power
hypocrites he called us

crowds followed him, sure
loved the drama, excitement's edge
water turned to wine, all the healings
hardly surprising they sought him out
but always his teaching disturbed
attracted some, drove others away
said what we didn't want to hear
asked the wrong questions

and then there was god
calling him father, presumption
those claims he made, blasphemy
messiah? definitely the wrong kind
unacceptable, not to be tolerated
failing our tests of orthodoxy
one verdict, death penalty
the grave no glory

there's a time to be brave
but moments wisdom says
take care, keep your head down
no future's found down that road
still he wouldn't take the warnings
kept on coming, refused to back off
this was not what we wanted
yet he's left us no option

even now he talks of glory



Tuesday of Holy Week
15th April 2025
following John 12.20-36

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