Category: First Words

Learn a Little Wisdom

Learn a Little Wisdom

I was young and blind to my vices

            I was young and enthusiastic

                        and keen like the North wind

.

Who would help me resign myself

            to my human failings

                        my daily, common human failings

.

So that I ceased to rage against myself

            and against my own inadequacies

                        and would start to learn a little wisdom?

.

I was young, and young in judgment

            and my passions swirled within me

                        misleading me with every step I took

.

And I thought I had understanding

            never knew what I had to learn

.

There has been so much more to consider

            as I pore away at my books

.

And now it is enough

            to make my soul burn.

.

This poem is from First Words, a published collection that explores questions about life, about time and relationships, youth and age, scepticism and belief, questions and faith.  They are the poems of a searching spirituality, moving from uncertainty towards maturity, and contain some of the earliest poems that I wrote that I wished to preserve.

I contribute £2 (GBP) to Street Pastors, Shrewsbury, from each sale.

If you would like to purchase, please follow this link

Also available…

Returning to the Father

These poems follow a journey from rebellion to realisation to reconciliation and returning to the Father.

Rembrandt’s famous painting of the parable of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen’s book The Return of the Prodigal Son, and the parable itself have been important sources for this work, and readers are directed to those works for further inspiration.

This volume of poems is now available to purchase for £5 (GBP) before postage. I contribute £2 (GBP) to Street Pastors, Shrewsbury, from each sale.

If you would like to purchase, please follow this link

Songs of Gladness, Songs of Pain

Songs of Gladness, Songs of Pain is a modern rendering of twenty-nine different Psalms, ancient texts that speak of human struggle to understand and relate to God.

Like the Psalms, these poems seek to understand evil and violence in the world, searching for peace and meaning, searching for joy and gladness in the midst of pain.

I contribute £2 (GBP) to Street Pastors, Shrewsbury, from each sale.

If you would like to purchase, please follow this link

They have already lived and died

They have already lived and died

               who made our past

.

Or else they’re lost

               in mist through which we cannot peer

.

I search for them

               I read their ways

,

Reclining here

               turning the pages of a book

.

I look for the life

               and the thoughts that shook

                              their souls to their foundations

.

Their voices reach me

               convert my ways

.

And suddenly I’m changed

               by all they thought and did

.

All stored up, now

               stored and ready

                              waiting to be released.

.

This comes from “First Words”, a published collection that explores questions about life, about time and relationships, youth and age, scepticism and belief, questions and faith.  They are the poems of a searching spirituality, moving from uncertainty towards maturity, and contain some of the earliest poems that I wrote that I wished to preserve.

“First Words” is available to purchase for £5 (GBP). I contribute £2 (GBP) to Street Pastors, Shrewsbury, from each sale. If you would like to purchase a copy, please follow this link

Leaving Scepticism

 

They said that all things seemed

they said I dreamed

.

Which angered me

when all about me I could see

.

The places and the people

sublime and beautiful

.

Which must be real

or what else did I feel?

.

The world with all its light and energy

spoke meaning to my sense

.

Everything that looked at me,

everywhere I went

.

And so I left their false philosophy

which could not answer

could not satisfy me

.

Frustrated by distrust and suspicion

I could not live with endless scepticism

.

But went elsewhere to find

the human peaceful mind

.

The wiser and the quieter

and the happier condition.

.

 

Eyes, Old Eyes

This was one of the first poems I ever wrote that I still think is worth preserving. It was written whilst I was still a teenager, as will be apparent, and is the first poem in my collection “First Words”.

Eyes, old eyes

those gazing, fading places

whose curving surface is disturbed

.

Reflections, places

fading faces

pass in waves…

[continues after image]

eyesoldeyes2

I do not want skin

wrinkled thin

shrivelled on me

while I am still empty

.

Fill me with memories!

.

The old will pass and fall so full

closed up with theirs

disappear in death

and die their time

.

But they too looked up

at old eyes gazing

threads back into history

.

Do I leap my life from day to day

and trail that thread

like life spinning ribbon red

from me?

.

Or snagged and shackled

trailing chains of ancestry?

.

Even now I hear you

the toddling, tottering thunder

who will burst from me

who will one day recede.

toddling tottering