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Showing posts from July, 2012

Church yard

The silent congregation
of decimated graves
surround an ancient building
that remains unweathered
though emptied of purpose,
like a drained chalice;
interesting to look at, yet merely a container without contents. But it is ok, don't weep for the building, there's people outside this church yard.
Written 13th July 2012. 

Street Thinker

Tell me.
What thoughts are these?
Endless circles like
your footprints through this town.
A philosophy of dots has strung you out
and convinced you of your own profundity,
because one or other of them touch on truth
that is irrefutable. Your intonation speaks confident riddles but your sentences are missing words, so no one tries to argue against your incomplete scraps of thought claiming to be certainty too soon.
Yet in your rambles you speak more sense than money lovers and materialists and the Christmas shoppers who only ask real questions when the stress of pointless gain has almost killed them, you speak more sense than the normal in your mumbled chatter from alcohol breath and tired homeless mind.
Though like the normal you have your indulgences, you have your compromise and you cannot live up to your own principles and you know it, and, above all, you need the gospel.
Written in December 2011 after long philosophical conversations with one of the homeless guys at the shelter I work. He used the word &#…

Confession

'...We have done wrong, been treacherous,
despite Your promises that endure beyond human memory
and the memory of our books

we have turned and turned:
repelled by truth and pursuing degradation,
we have shed our identity like unwanted skin
and left our sinews exposed
to be pierced by the sharp edges of our own broken choices.

But You are, and have been, and will always be faithful to your promises...
this exile, this physical dislocation, is a demonstration
of your truth and your love and your staunch commitment

for we put ourselves here,
and nothing happens that you have not ordained
but we chose the curses and we chose exile
and we still have not faced you in the honesty of our filthy garments,
To be transparent, and stripped of all we are better off without...'


On Sunday 8th July I preached on Daniel 9:1-19. I wrote this as I was preparing. The poem focusses on the confession of Daniels prayer verses 5-14.