A lot of wisdom packed into this book.
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Archives For faith
I recall a short story I had written in school back in Scotland looking out of our window at the whirling snowstorm blanketing our streets, roofs and gardens. We were young. My teacher said we could reach for the stars. I questioned that statement.
It fell fast and hard as we threw snowballs at each other in the back green. We stopped and together the three of us made a snowman. Over five feet tall with chestnuts for its eyes and baby carrots for its lips. I was so uncomfortable, perspiring as a chilly wind blew through my thick wooly jumper specifically made to keep you protected from the elements.
When completed, I stepped back to admire my work. The snowman’s expression was not one of joy but fear. I rearranged the lips physically with my fingers turning them into a smile. But as the snow fell faster the expression changed once again and looking into the chestnut eyes of this inanimate object I knew there was nothing else I could do.
There was nothing he could do either. He had no brain, therefore no courage, no heart therefore no pulse, and regardless of my desire to alter this thing I could not change, I watched helplessly as its physical appearance morphed moment by moment into something I had not created. A thin crust of ice had formed around the body. There was nothing left but a large lumpy pile of snow as icy blasts shot through our garden.
And they told me I could be anything I wanted to be. That’s what the teacher said. Anything. Reach for the stars. And I guessed it was all a lie. I knew at the end there was one ultimate truth. Whatever we were here, we would all disappear, regardless of our understanding of love and hate.
I walked towards the snowman and systematically pulled it apart. I swiped, punched and kicked as the wind blew harder and the fierce biting wind attacked every fibre of my flesh. I crushed this thing until it was gone. The water was still water, the ice was still ice but the man was no more. Because, quite simply, he had never been in the first place.
I looked up at the dark grey clouds and felt thousands upon thousands of snowflakes swirling around me, melting on my lips and blinding my eyes. I was awake and I knew I was not dreaming. I knew I was alive and I knew in my heart I would be spending some extra time in space on this little planet.
I try to think
Of happiness,
As a concept
Encapsulated in its own image.
And laughingly believe
I’ll be happy,
Just by bringing to mind
The thought,
That thinking happy thoughts
Would then follow
Without effort
And all would be well.
But happy thoughts only
Materialize ,
Not by concentrated effort,
But by avoiding,
All these wicked
People From hell.
Image from Beliefnet.com
Through orange heights,
Through turtle doves,
And through the alleyways,
I see the love
That hope enshrouds
Descend and take away
The thoughts I had of one I love
A city far but near
And in its grasp
A homesick dove
For whom I shed a tear.
The air is still,
I feel no wind
Inside I feel no sorrow
Upon my hope
My faith is pinned
The dove shall fly tomorrow.
Amazing that some are surprised
Kids with no faith
Scalp
Kids with no strength
(Cowering in a corner)
Helpless
Against a world that says
You can’t complain
Because you’re white
When the good in people
Wins the battle
Evil
Will wait
And wait
Until it can strike
So let it meander
In Hell’s
Never ending realm
Until it consumes itself
In its own self rendered rage
I step outside, breath in fresh air
The walls were closing in around me
I drag a chair to the lawn and sit right down
To drink my Earl Grey tea.
Slip out my diary from my trouser pocket
Swipe a fly, pick up the pen
I start by scribbling out the date
And whimper, not again.
It’s my birthday, it’s another one
The world’s still in a mess
Love is lost and hate is strong
And some could not care less.
They are the folk who sleep and wake
Up each brand new day
They go to work and come back home
And still have time to play.
And should you say to them, you think
The world is such a mess
They laugh and pour another beer
They just don’t want the stress.
An x – box and a mobile phone
Are held up like a God
And through those mindless little tools
They create their little worlds.
They praise themselves, they admire themselves
They’re hot, they’re sweet, they’re cool
Millennials can’t be criticized
Because that is somehow cruel.
If you did, or dared. they’d run away
To find themselves some space
Distance is the magic word
Far from the human race.
So what to do in this narcissistic world
Where we have no need for prayer
It means now we can love ourselves
We are idols, tread with care.
We are mortal, there’s no soul that lives
When our world at last stops turning
No rising on angelic wings
Or hell’s eternal burning.
Alas, for me I have a soul
Now on an earthly trip
The journey is eternal
This life is but a blip
Year by year another candle
Added to the cake
And my safe space welcomes those I love
And friendships yet to make.
Seated on a wooden chair
Elbows on the table
Hands elevated cradling a mug
Of Columbian dark coffee
With a little more sugar
To lighten the mood
As the flickering images
From my bland H.D. T.V.
Tripped around the walls
And the voice from the newsreader
Painted with blush and mascara
Now running down her cheeks
Flipped her script over
And looked straight at the camera
Pretending she was looking at me
And said a nuclear device had been detonated
In Times Square
The third such incident in America that day
And I watched her scream spitting blood
As the picture cut off
And I laughed so loudly
Because I knew this would happen
I knew this would happen
I knew this was going to happen
I had always known this
Was going to happen
But nobody listened
Because nobody wanted
A world where
The truth conflicted with the shallow
Thoughts and expectations of a generation
Built on the hopes of material desire
Because deities were not marketable commodities
You had your wish granted
And God is gone
From your life
So breath in deeply
And scream
That way
You will not suffer
When your insides
Once home to a soul burns
The hollow screams
Will fade
