Thursday, 4 March 2010


The Wisdom of Solomon
Part One

The wisdom of Solomon
was not to rule
but to know he was
a wretched fool

To have your soul
laid bare
before your eyes
it could be said
such a man
could be wise

But in such cases
the subject - usually dies

And if they live
you wouldn't want to hear the cries

So for the sake
of keeping your cool
it's best to believe
you're not a fool

But be careful in the choice
of what you despise
what kind of wisdom
must point out a fool
to make it seem wise

Part Two

Walking the wastelands of meaningless vanity
stripped of illusions grasping for sanity

Crumpled in a doorway
watching people pass
some stopping to admire
the pillows quilts and beds
behind the plate glass

The darkness of night
brings a dark thought
- you'd be better of dead -
until the light of remembering
(The son of man
had nowhere
to lay down his head)

Resting in the comfort of this thought
until the break of day
awaking and believing
there is one who knows the way

When the Towers
of human illusion fall
the wastelands appear
in poignant clarity
and in the midst
one man left standing
The Christ - The Reality

Looking back
toward the Citadels
the heart recoils in pity
the fallen Towers of human mastery
it was all a cardboard City

And the people
we stepped over
dismissed - with a meagre ration
are waiting in the wastelands
and greet us with compassion.

written Spring 2001

Hallowed Ground

'Tell me about it'
was all he said
walking out from shadows
an acutely enacted scene

Faces ingrained with dust
clothes caked with dirt
spattered with dried blood
retrieved from the earth

Blankets for the cold
bread for the hungry
water for the thirsty
hope for the despairing

Take off your shoes
this is hallowed ground
a fortress of steel
surrounds this Island Nation.

Written January 2001

New Dealer

He surveys the table
of worldly men
they have played all night
in a smoke filled Den

He joins the game
with a new set of rules
where the rich become poor
and the wise become fools

He deals an image
to each man alone
they lift their cards
it cuts to the bone

And no one can say
'Hold on'

And no one can say
'that's wrong'

And no one can say
'I've something else planned'

They silently sit
and play out the hand.

Written Spring 2001

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