Category Archives: poetry

Epiphany – a showing forth

What did they find amid the mess of humanity, dispersed, dislocated, de facto dispossessed by a collaborative cabal from within and without the wall; a mess of humanity birthed in the mire of the base realm which we inhabit – … Continue reading

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Glory

And the cries of pain and exultation mingle with the newborn breath escaping into the air, into the world, and the sky echoes alleluia; glory to God; be at peace.   So it ever was, and, even through our fear, … Continue reading

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Friday, December 23rd: Speechless

From this evening’s Stations of the Nativity (St Andrew’s, Elyria, 5-6 pm – join us!), a poem for Zechariah after his visit from the angel: Speechless Tongue-tied and frozen, teeth on a knife-edge, overwhelmed and overcome; if he could have … Continue reading

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Friday, December 9th: Listen …

The pied piper leads a merry dance, compelling gaity and painted smiles; canned laughter pops open like beer, frothing over the dancing throng. Weaving through the sombre parade, out of key and out of place, piercing tunes enough to wake … Continue reading

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When

In the beginning, you created time, moments given to live in. Our time’s not our own. Although you made us with all the time in the world, the little we find we keep tightly wound as though we make time for … Continue reading

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and your neighbour as yourself

One last bunch of words inspired by this coming Sunday’s gospel reading (see previous two posts for more): Neighbour as self I see myself pick up the paper before the street is awake, shuffling back in slippers to the echoing, empty … Continue reading

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All your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind

Following on from yesterday’s post, All: Heart A chamber choir sings unthinking muscular love, somewhat off-centre. Soul Shuffle footed jazz angels dancing cheek to cheek, glorious in the dark. Mind “Mind the gap.” The train pulls in and I board a … Continue reading

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All

All   is a lot. If I love you with all of my heart, my soul, my mind, what is left over?   What happens to that piece that I keep inside –  you know, the jagged-edged sliver of mirror … Continue reading

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Incipient

  There was a grass snake. Only you could have found it, green and coiled, harmless.

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Between

I’m not altogether certain this one is finished; but it’s been hanging about for a month, gaining and losing words, lines and order, so I’m letting it loose. The beach is always a good place to visit when I’m contemplating … Continue reading

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