Voices from beyond control

...on these streets i once belonged:
make these feet move
one by one...

...in this car I thought I owned:
take the wheel Lord
drive me home...

...in this body: blood and bones,
fused and mingled,
breath on loan...

...in this garden, in this home:
when I've watered
you have grown...

...i sail this mind of overload,
beyond control,
these memories roll...

ghost churches/new haunts

Ghost churches,
where somehow some forgot their place,
and lost and sold the plot
(the Spirit shown the door,
still pain creaking in their stoic joists)
retreat, rebrand and resurrect:
your carpet warehouse,
your local Indian restaurant,
a night out at the theatre,
or the perfect home
among the graves,
a place to lay your weary head.

Unsuspecting,
souls stop to sip this new communion,
with gone
generations mingling in the ether,
their trapped psalms jammed into the brick-work,
their spoken blessings looping onto shoppers,
diners, leisure lovers
in these gifted buildings,
sent to the wind,
to be transformed again,
when Spirit, once more welcome,
settles in.

catch them while you can...

bright ideas
lurk
in darkest thickets,
prone to prowling,
focusing their prey,
their sinews itching but
biding their time,
staring you out...

Pouncing,

headlong into your psyche,
letting you deflect them
or forcing you to face them down,
devour them whole or
consume a fleshy bite,
in this fight or flight,
for the right,
to feed afresh

from the dying carcass of your mind.



Shared with poets united

On waking today at Crieff Hydro I called out in my mind...

...men of my age
careering forward
dig your heels into the mountain
disconnect from avalanche
(for just a minute)
lie back
(the sky awaits your eyes)
and dream
(don't scream).

God sends talk.

alone in our thoughts
and out of our minds
we are found to be beside ourselves.

take a break

sip a cup of cappuccino
and
control your pulse:
settle for a second,
flat the landscape of your scan.
You can chip the dust from the unjust,
retake the territory of your time,
and fight against your mind,
breathe in,
breathe out,
what hope we have
against our doubts
alive, alive-oh,
sip slow
sip slow,
sip now.




  

consumer rumour

more is less
i guess
and i believe this
(more or less).

The Trust Test

Just
trust.

Palms

A shattering jar
emits the essence of extravagance, 
her fragrance-filled palms,
from her brokenness,
anoint 
and 
pour a perfumed provocation,
spirit consumed
in worship; 
forgetting the poor
and jolting Judas.
Kissing in the coming kingdom,
touching her maker,
skin on skin,
placing
hair in hands on feet,
beckoning burial,
anticipation in the scene,
the scent of intimacy 
rising.

By day,
holy feet hang,
inches above dusty ground,
on cloaks laid out,
king condescending on a colt,
as psalms through palms resound,
ecstacy
from a praying, baying mob,
(this place is rigged to fever pitch,
in parting praise)
rhythm in the waves, demands to save,
his heartbeat for the end of days...
 
Four sleeps on,
reaching his cross-road,
hand branches are bloodied,
two palms,
split and pierced,
the world hanging by his fingertips,
when clouds eclipse the crowd 
the sun goes down...

Saturday 06:30

Atari shapes of passing headlights
slip linear shadows across this wall,
as raindrops snare the rooftops firmly.

A pin-prick watch insists on joining silence,
and torchlight floods down on my hand,
to cast this mighty pen in silhouette.    

Outside my duvet savannah,
lazy Saturday, no agenda,
waits skulking in the black to pounce.

The day will come, sure as the sun,
a cappuccino in the kitchen,
signalling that we are home.

wresting "control"

a test to taste,
against my thirst,
a gravel throat,
sand-papered mouth,
and
roughed-up walls  
of faith
shake down.

this precipice
that overhangs
and overhauls
and overbears,
and
captures prayers,
and
tenses shoulders,
head and stares,
for all i know
and all i care,
it's simply
#iamscared.

out of
control,
i never was
and
never thought to ask;
but found i am,
(afraid to find),
control is well
outwith my
grasp.

shamar,
Lord, Spirit,
transfix on
You, 
entrust,
entirely to...Your hands,
disarmed
and dangerous,
under wings,
shivering in Your
song
i sing,
shamar,
in this
relinquishing...