My Words, My World

First drafts – A few pages in the large wilderness of the world of writing

Archive for the category “Religion”

Sinner

To the hero’s end they ride,

once death by sword tip.

Now, just take your pick.

Blood, so much blood

and shed for what?

Belief, possession and gain.

Where’s your faith my son?

It’s my holy one against yours (if you have one)

I believe my belief is believable

and you’d better believe it.

(So I look him in the eye, and I say)

Show me a miracle of your faith

and I’ll show you someone out to profit

Show me the forgiveness you preach

and I’ll show you someone out to stop it

Show me your ten commandments

and I’ll show you ten twisted sinners

Ask me if I’ve sinned

and I’ll show you the world.

He turned

and walked away.

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White bulletproof shroud

White bulletproof shroud
Head to toe protection,
salvation
while fishermen in storm-tossed seas
knee deep and needing
breaking bread
taking water, taking wine
as you walk unhindered
undisturbed
stone rolled, risen
given
to man
to remember
to forget
to honour
to regret
White bulletproof shroud
lies in tatters
at your feet
as women weep
and men wander
and wonder
Wander, wonder

There is no war to end all wars

One hundred years on and…

A brief truce broken
A steel head awoken
And glared into the night
A firefight,
Candlelight: mourners
Apparently security means a dawn raid
An air raid,
Siren
Not silent
Blaring, uncaring

The choke of smoke
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
On whose hands the blood
That puddles the street
Beneath frightened feet
Running, fighting
Toe to toe
Door to door
Calibre counts much more

A prayer for the lost
And for those who remain;
Once again
The blinding smoke
The dust that chokes
The blood that soaks
The tears that burn
Amid the fires that turn
Earth to hell
A hell on earth

Suffer little children
As men hide among you
While their enemies’ bomb you
Poor innocent souls
As the death toll
Rises
Through wars’ devices
Bodies twisted and torn
Lives shattered and shorn
Of all hope of peace

A three day pull-out
A humanitarian hand-out
Look at me
Through your blood-shot,
Blood filled
Hateful eyes
They say security means war my friend
Do you really think
It will ever end?

The Road

I wandered listless but restless.

I walked in the shadows, defenceless.

I wandered thinking, without knowing.

My soul in pain, my self-doubt growing.

 

I lost my way, though the way was marked.

So I waited at the crossroads, wishing I’d asked

What do I do? How? What shall I give?

To find the way home; distant, elusive.

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