Red Road Flats Sunday 7th March 2010

Robina Qureshi in this interview explains it all much better than I could.

The Great Commission

Story from the Scottish highlands

My Mother told me this story when I was a boy.
She had a cousin who was about ten the same age as her at the time. He was very ill and was in bed in his parents tent. One day he sat up and asked for a drink of water, he drank the water and then sang the hymn Abide with me, then he lay back down and died.
His singing of this hymn must have been a comfort to his parents and must have spoken of his faith to all who heard about him, as he still speaks today.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

"Injustice is it"... "I will tell you this boy"

Just before Christmas I was in Farmfoods in Govan. A small Salvation Army band were playing outside and collecting money. They kept repeating "Jingle Bells" like it was the only song they knew, the girl at the checkout said "If they play Jingle bells once more I'm going to tear my hair out." It wasn't the only song they knew but it gave me the impression that they thought it was the only song we knew.
I stood beside them but those not playing made no attempt to talk to me or to share anything of the Gospel with me or anyone else.
In the bakers in Govan there was three S A officers, they looked like they were really out of their comfort zone.
In my twenty odd year association with Govan the "Salvationists" from the Citadel in Govan have not troubled me with the Gospel even once.
I know that many Christians campaign against the injustices that are inflicted upon people in every society. And it is right that they do so.
An injustice could be described as being denied an inalienable right.
What about this human right - The human right to hear the Gospel.
Does Christ consider it to be an inalienable human right for people to hear the Gospel.?
Does the church consider people being denied the hearing of the Gospel to be an injustice.?
To be entrusted with the Gospel and to deny people the hearing of it could be the greatest injustice in the World.
Mark 16:15.
He said to them, "Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation."
Matthew 28.
16 Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. 17 When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18 Then Jesus came to them and said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."

The National Obesity Problem

The View

The window
looks out
upon the twilight
of an apprehensive morning
slowly turning grey
in the sunless dawn
such a long night
has finally broken
into an appropriate day

Cutting through
the industrial sky
rain falls orange
on the street below
and sparks up
into an angry ballet

Inexorable concrete
reinforced
with latticed steel
rises monolithic
imposing it's dimensions
upon the horizon

Buildings
clothed in shadows
are sentinal
standing to attention
locking out the night
locking in
the workers of the earth

The prisoners
of oppression
sleep and awake
in poverty
and the soul
is a silver thread
spun upon a reel
and life
is more
than the mind can know
but less
than the heart can feel.

Solomon

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

Talking Heads

Gipsy Smith

I TRUST that what I have written will interest my readers.
I have had a life very different, I think, from that of
most of my fellows, but a life which God has greatly
blessed, and I think I may add, with all reverence, greatly
used. It has been full of trials and difficulties. I have
been often troubled, but never distressed; often perplexed,
but never in despair; often cast down, but never destroyed.
Any afflictions that have visited me have been but for a
moment, and have worked a far more exceeding weight of
glory. I have sought to keep the eyes of my heart open to
the things which are not seen, for the things which are
seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are
eternal.

Postscript to the autobiography of Gipsy Rodney Smith Evangelist.


CHAPTER 23
GLASGOW

I CONDUCTED a great mission campaign in Glasgow from
September, 1893, to the end of January, 1894. The mission
was arranged by a committee of twelve free church
ministers, and the work was carried on in almost as many
churches. The campaign was interrupted for a short time by
the Christmas holidays, and by a short vacation that I
took. During this visit to Glasgow I met the late Professor
Henry Drummond, who was very kind to me. When he and I
first conversed together I had been working for seven weeks
in seven churches, and I told him in reply to a question,
that I had not given the same address twice. This statement
seemed to impress him greatly. He asked me some questions
about my life, and how I prepared my discourses. I was
attracted at once by the sweetness of his spirit and the
graciousness of his manner and disposition. Henry Drummond
at once appealed to the best in you. I have met many great
ministers and preachers in my life, but never one in whose
company I felt more at ease than Henry Drummond's. There
was no subduing awe about him. One would laugh at oneself
for being afraid of him, yet he conveyed to one's mind an
unmistakable impression of greatness.

The late Dr. Bruce attended my mission services, and took
part in one of them. I was told that never had he done such
a thing before. Dr. Bruce was well known for his frankness
of speech, and, addressing his students, he described the
inquiry-room work as tomfoolery. "But," said he, "you must
all go and hear the gipsy. That man preaches the gospel."
Perhaps the most memorable part of my campaign was that in
the Free College Church, of which Dr. George Reith was the
pastor. Dr. Reith wrote an account of the mission for his
church magazine. He said: ''We have seen nothing like it
since the visit of Messrs. Moody and Sankey in 1874. The
speaking was remarkable. We have seldom, if ever, listened
to a long series of addresses of the kind so admirable in
every respect; effective, pointed, and free from
sensational appeals. . . .Our friend, Gipsy Smith, has left
memories of a singularly pleasant kind, and what is of more
importance, his presentation of the gospel of our Lord will
not soon be forgotten by those who heard it." People of all
kinds attended the services--old, young, and middle-aged--
the fashionable inhabitant of the West-end, the middle-
class citizen, the artisan, the domestic servant, the
school-boy, school-girl, and soldier. A member of Dr.
Reith's congregation wrote in the magazine that "the
gypsy's illustrations are usually well chosen and apposite.
One evening we observed a fashionable young lady sitting
perfectly unmoved through the service, until a touching
little story at the close did its work--unlocked at least a
spring of emotion. . . . Judicious management of the
inquiry-room is admittedly one of the most difficult and
delicate departments of evangelistic work, but we are sure
no one who remained to confer with Gipsy Smith would ever
regret having done so.

It took a long time to break down the caution and reserve
of the Scots character, but once it was broken down it
broke down completely. Three thousand people passed through
the inquiry-room. A large proportion of these were men.
Some of them, indeed, were remarkable triumphs of God's
grace. The history of the conversion of some of these men
was curious. At first they would be merrily interested in
the services. Then they would be impressed, and perhaps
convicted of sin, and so they were led to follow me from
church to church, until, in some cases, they had been
listening to me for quite seven weeks before they fully
resolved to give their lives to God. At one service, and
that the most fruitful, there was no sermon, because the
people began to go into the inquiry-room immediately after
the hymn. I have no doubt that many of them had already
made up their minds, and really came to the meeting with
the intention of taking their stand publicly. We spent that
whole evening in simply saying to the people, "Come, come!"
I think that God taught us a great lesson that night. We
are so apt to think that this must be done, and that that
must be done, and that a certain fixed course of procedure
must be followed, or else we must not look for results. Too
often I fear our rules and regulations and orders of
service simply intrude between men's souls and their God.
We all need to be taught when to stand aside.

The figures do not indicate with anything like completeness
the total results. When the ministers of the city came to
visit the individual inquirers, they often found that in
the same house there were three or four other persons who
had been brought to God during the mission. When a Scotsman
is once set on fire, he blazes away at white heat. And so
it came about that among the best workers during the
closing week of the mission were the converts of the early
weeks. I have never met people in my life who could sing
Sankey's hymns better than the folks of Edinburgh and
Glasgow.

The farewell meeting of the mission was held in the City
Hall, one of the largest public buildings in Glasgow. It
was crammed to suffocation. The North British Daily Mail
gave a good account of the services, heading its article,
"A Glasgow Pentecost." The platform was crowded with
Glasgow ministers, many of whom made very cordial speeches
of thanksgiving and congratulation. The Rev. David Low said
that he had seen nothing approaching the mission since
1873, when Mr. Moody first came to this country. I was
greatly cheered by the statement of my friend, Rev. J. J.
Mackay, now of Hull, that never had he a worker more
delightful to co-operate with than Mr. Gipsy Smith. He was
as simple and natural as a gipsy boy. My heart was full of
gratitude to God for the great things He had done for us in
Glasgow, and to my warm-hearted Scots friends for their
exceeding great kindness. I think it was that night that I
enjoyed a little rub at them for their comical and absurd
attitude--for so it seemed to me--towards instrumental
music. They would not let me have an instrument at the
morning service nor at the afternoon service, but I might
have one for the evening service. The idea was, I believe,
that the morning and afternoon services were attended by
staid, sober, decorous Presbyterians, who regarded
instrumental music as a desecration of the regular services
in the sanctuary. The evening services in Scotland are
always more of an evangelistic character, and are intended
more particularly to reach the outsiders and the non-
churchgoers. I suppose it was thought that instrumental
music would please these people, and would not offend their
less sensitive, less decorous consciences. Since 1894,
however, things have greatly changed, even in Scotland, and
most of the Presbyterian Churches, I am told, have now
organs or harmoniums. I do not believe for a moment that
the result has been a diminution in the solidity and
gravity of the Scots character.

Cadillac

Cadillac

Someone's got a Cadillac
and they are so rich
they wouldn't even care
if they slid it in a ditch

Someone's got a ford
it needs an m.o.t.
and in the words of the song
they should-Let it be

Someone's got a rolex
but the time dosen't matter
they wear it to show
that their times are better

Someone's got a seiko
they look at it and curse
it tell's them to hurry
or they'll miss their bus

Someone's got a choice
of where to live and what to do
"We just had to buy the place
when we saw the view"

Someone's got a flat
they loathe with pure disgust
the view from the window
is another drugs bust

someone's got the penthouse suite
someone's got a cardboard box
they have plenty paper
but not the kind that talks

The sum of a human life
is not in what we possess
the riches of the wealthy
do not make the poor worth less

The nationless refugee
dying from hunger beside the road
has the value of you or me
in the reckoning of God

We have all come from God
and to God we shall return
and in the flame of judgement
paper is the first to burn.

Angel Song.

Angel Song

I hear the harmony
of their wings
resonating in the air
like the breeze on my face
I can feel they are there
They are rising in harmonics
turning like a flock of birds
in the choir of their wings
I can hear these words

'The poor man's wealth
is in his heart
collected treasures set aside
a lifetime of feeling and thought
of joys to share and grief to hide

The poor man's wealth
is in his soul
fashioned by a life of care
when there is nowhere to turn
calling out to God from his despair

The poor man's wealth
is in his hope
for heaven's pasture
and a camp to pitch
in the gift of God
who spares the poor
the poverty of dying rich

The poor man's wealth
is in his faith
upon this staff his burdens lean
and walking taps along the way
finding evidence of things not seen

The poor man's wealth
is in his need
though wealth and power
their virtues flaunt
the place where the God is found
is in the sigh of abject want'

Then gradually I became aware
of breathing again
there was less pressure in the air
and the sky just looked like rain
I called out and I listened
but I knew they were gone
so I sat beneath an oak tree
and wrote down their song.

For John Paul

For John Paul

The old Father said to me
'Don't you want to share
in the suffering of the world'
I thought for a moment and then replied
'I didn't know I was'
he replied sharply
'Well you are and be thankful'

He then stood up went over to a cupboard
and began to rummage through it

I began to think how selfish I was
for expecting a carefree life
in the midst of a world of suffering

He reappeared with an old Bible
thumbed through it and tore out a page
then walked out of the room
and down the hall toward the front door
I hurried after him
he opend the door and I stepped outside
he handed me the page
'Read this when you get home'- He said
'this is where you'll find Christ'
Then he stuck his head around the door
and said - 'I'll pray for you tonight'
'Thank you' I blurted out
to the closing door

Feeling disappointed I made my way home

The next morning
finding the page in my pocket
I sat on my bed and began to read it
This is what it said

I was hungry
and you gave me food
I was thirsty
and you gave me a drink
I was a stranger
and you made me welcome
I was in rags
and you gave me clothes
I was ill
and you came and took care of me
I was in prison
and you came to see me there
I was despised
and you showed me respect

And in that moment it became clear to me
that the suffering of Christ
and the suffering of humanity
are indivisible and ongoing

In the afternoon
I went back to see the old Father
He answered the door
'I've got it' - I said
'I know what you mean'
He opened the door wider
and gestured with his hand
for me to come in
walking into the hall - I said
'You must have prayed for me right enough'
'I did ' he replied
'I prayed for you all night'

Meccano Set Instructions

The Meccano Set

My Father gave me a Meccano Set
but whatever I tried to do
there was never enough bits
to see the project through

I nearly made a bridge
I almost made a crane
I became a little miffed
and decided to complain

'Father' I said - 'This Meccano Set'
'Half of it's not there
whenever I try to use it
I'm tearing out my hair'

He looked at me and he smiled
with a knowing kinda glow
the way Father's do before explaining
something you don't know

He then said - "son
if I gave you Worlds to play with
it wouldn't be enough
you would still come before me
complaining in a huff"

"The more parts the more scope
to make a greater wrong
the tyranny of a distant World
sending a greater bomb"

"Do not despise your Meccano Set
the missing pieces will keep you safe
where understanding ends
span the chasm by faith"

Crash and Burn

Crash and Burn

When I think of
all the things I should have done
all the things I could have done
all the things I've never done

I feel like my soul is on the run

I've always been too cautious too sensible too wise

A kamikaze pilot comes to mind
methodically going through
the correct take off procedure
then skilfully flying his plane
on his way to crash and burn

We should begin at the crash and burn
but that is where we end
and if in this moment
we know what we should have done
it comes with the price that the chance is gone
and this is where we find and can hardly miss
.......Folly.......
as it dances a Jig
around the smouldering wreckage
of all our sensibleness

And in this moment I will know
I should have lived more on the edge
I should have taken more chances along the way
does it matter if we singe our wings
when we're going to crash and burn anyway

This is what I believe
I believe that one day soon
I will stand before God
and be asked to give an account of my life
and what will I say
will I say
"Caution made me recklessly
throw every chance away"
That would be a twist in the tale
a day of going back to school
to learn all I should have been
was more of a fool.

The Room

The Room

I walked through the door
into an oval room
forty feet long
forty feet wide
completely square
except for one octagonal side

In the far corner was a chair
beautifully designed
skillfully made
an obvious chippendale
on the wall hung a sign
"This chair is not for sale"

Upon the chair sat a boy
laughing as he read "Plato's Republic"
he lifted his eyes
with an embarrassed look
I smiled assent
knowing it was a funny book

Two strangers walk into the room
we greeted each other
like long lost friends
and as the day wore on
much in the past became outmoded
we talked we sang
and we planned for the future
as the missiles exploded.

I wrote this poem about thirty years ago.

The Anvil

The Anvil

Rannoch Moor
Monday 15th December
8 O'clock

There's a wind coming across the Moor
would cut you in two
it's mixed wi' sleet
and is rattlin' off the side of the Trailer
like a snare drum
The Trailer is lifting
first one way and then the other
as though it's swaying in time to the beat
We have plenty water
but the gas has just run out
in sympathy with the coal
I do have some money
but it's the kind that jingles in your pocket
which is appropriate
as it's about ten days 'till Christmas
But I'm not useless altogether
I have a lorry loaded with scrap
but would it start - not for it's Grandfaither
I begin to size up the farm
about half a mile away across two fields
But this farmer
has been stoppin' an' barkin' at us to shift
for the past month
and on a morning like this
he'll be in front of his kitchen range
with his tractor parked up in the shed
I'm just about to step over the fence
when the Polis pull in
They tell me an anvil's gone missing
from outside a smiddy
and they want me to empty the lorry
to see if I took it
The problem is I do have an anvil
but I got it at a croft
about twenty miles up a back road
So they're goin' to have to take my word for it
or take me back to the croft
or take the anvil to the smiddy
to see if it's the one that went missing
Suddenly the young constable
punches me in the face
They like their Tinkers ignorant in Perthshire
grateful for any semblance
of unmerited civility
but I wasn't in a mood
to pander to the delusion

4 O'clock

The cell door slides open
and the Sergeant informs me
it's all been sorted out and I can go
congratulating himself
for letting me out before the village shop closes
I get some messages
and the shopkeeper gives me a lift back to the camp
By this time it's dark but the wind has calmed down
so I take the back cape off the lorry
break it up and make a fire
I don't know if it was the sight of the cape burning
or the sparks going in the frying pan
or someone saying -
'If you hadnae painted that cape
it would never have caught fire'
But all at once we started to laugh
and we couldn't stop
we laughed until our sides were sore
It turned milder that night there was a thaw
and in the morning the lorry started.

The Stand

The Room

I walked through the door
into an oval room
forty feet long
forty feet wide
completely square
except for one octagonal side

In the far corner was a chair
beautifully designed
skilfully made
an obvious Chippendale
on the wall hung a sign
"This chair is not for sale"

Upon the chair sat a boy
laughing as he read "Plato's Republic"
he lifted his eyes
with an embarrassed look
I smiled assent
knowing it was a funny book

Two strangers walk into the room
we greeted each other
like long lost friends
and as the day wore on
much in the past became outmoded
we talked we sang
and we planned for the future
as the missiles exploded.

The Stand

Dark times are coming
but do not despair
God has numbered every hair
a time will come when you will say
'I am glad I was there'

This is the Day
to live your Testimony
to express the cry within your soul
'Liberty' 'Autonomy'
Arrayed against imposed control

Live a lifetime of Freedom
in this one gallant leap
Free in the air or Free in the deep
Face the Tyranny
Break the unholy allience
The brutality of evil men
The complicity of silence

Grasp the straws of Life
while you can
take the chance be your own man
Make The Stand
if only for a day
Live how you want to live
Say what you want to say.


Sanctification

A dark day is coming
darker than a moonless night
and bitter in the wail of tears
flowing from the wellspring
of a Mother's lost delight

Standing in the place
of desolations awesome dread
where the only flecks of light
are moments of relief
for those already dead

A thousand rabid rottweilers
Unleashed
with nothing left to devour
except each other
not one man left standing
not one man who hated his brother

The sea is boiling
super heated steam
gushes from the wound
of an exposed reactor core
writhing like a creature
casting mighty ships
like driftwood along the shore

The Skies are empty
in a World wide no fly zone
conscience can no longer
abdicate to duty
missions already flown

A day of ending
with nothing left to begin
A day of knowing
why the Father turned away
when the Son bore our sin

And the good man will know
And the righteous man will know
And the sanctified man will know
The sinfulness of his sin.

Rapture

He comes to us a stranger

He comes to us a stranger
He comes to us an outsider
He comes to us at the end of his tether
He comes to us dishevelled and unkempt
He comes to us unlovely and unloveable

He comes to us hungry and thirsty
He comes to us seeking clothing and shelter
He comes to us an inconvenience
He comes to us a bother a trouble

He comes to us a danger

He calls to us from his sick bed
He calls to us from his prison
He calls to us to go into the no go

He comes to us every day
He comes to us a lifetime before
He comes to us in glory

Lyon and Tay

Where the rivers Lyon and Tay meet
1
The Salmon in the sea
to the river they must go
why or how to get there
the salmon do not know

And man in this river
though ignorant he may be
will yet find his way
to that eternal sea

It doesn't matter if we don't know
or don't care to understand
assembled before God
we all will yet stand
2
God is our Father
our Saviour
and our friend
our beginning without beginning
our ending without end

Step into
a billion galaxies
open a door
east,west,north,south
find a billion more

In all of this
he will find us
and deliver us from sin
for he is a part of us
and we are a part him
3
God is our glory
our natural our spiritual breath
without him we are no more
than lice upon the Earth

And the Earth itself
a speck of dust
without power to resist
caught on the edge of a storm
without purpose to exist

And all of our endeavours
and all our grief and care
are played out in the void
of nothing and nowhere
4
God is such a reality
that the atheistic mind
can only theorise
a god of a different kind

Intelligent to reason
we did not make ourselves
we look for a maker
along the library shelves

We find the time god
of Evolution
to whom educators defer
and explain the origin of life
as though they were there

If you add X million years
to Pre-amoebic slime
it will become consciousness
given enough time

Add more time to form the mind
more time the heart the soul
with endless strands of D.N.A.
all in complete control

But the theory contains a flaw
a factor has been missed
linear time is not the only
timescape to exist
5
Watching Earth rise from the moon
we see the cradle
of the human race
glimmering like a sapphire
set in the jewelled crown of space

The Earth in orbit around the Sun
returns to solstice
on Salisbury plain
is this the beginning of another year
or the year begun again

The ancient builders
of the standing stones
wrote in sarsen on the ground
that for them
time and space
was perceived as round

The montage of the seasons
meld into each other
autumn into winter
spring into summer

Time moving in a cycle
where the first will meet the last
and all are yet alive to God
who have lived in our past

Eternal in the knowledge
of the eternal mind
where is the beginning
or ending of mankind

The Alpha and the Omega
unfold this mystery
The living God is God of the living past
and every future is - History
6
So be careful
how you live your life
before Judgement
meets you in a fury
with all you've done and left undone
assembled as your Jury

But mercy triumphs over Judgement
so when you stand alone
a voice in your defence will be
the mercy you have shown

Mercy,Tolerance and Kindness
the elements of grace
search within your heart
and find for them a place
7
Should a man own the World
and the World control
the price would be too high
if it cost his soul

Should every plan be accomplished
and every goal fulfilled
then crumbling around us
everything we build

Cities return to rubble
overgrown with vegetation
children will be taught
that used to be a Nation

Factories are silent
with nothing left to do
only wonder why so many worked
to make wealth for so few.

Thanks for the memories

When I was 22 I felt that God was calling me to the Faith Mission Bible college in Edinburgh.
I asked a Baptist minister whom I had known for a few years to refer me. At the time I was a member of the Vale of Leven Baptist church. The minister I asked was in Oban.
He said he didn't think he could refer me and he would explain why the next time he saw me.
So the next time I was in Oban I went to see him.
What he told me was this - He wanted me to take a job for a year first instead of being self employed, when I asked him why he said - "Well when you are with the Faith Mission and someone asks you what you did before, you will be able to tell them about your job and you won't have to tell them you're a Traveller."

This be my verse

Father

When our home
was Killearn lodge
in Auchterarder
I was five and Raymond was three
We would sit on the wall
and wave at the cars going by
Big black Vauxhalls covered in chrome
Wolsleys and Vanguards
an Austin A45 a Loadstar
Smiling people waved back
encouraging us
to wait for the next car
moving slowly down the back road
On my sixth birthday
my Father gave me
a little toy car
and I played
among the flowers he planted.

Mother

On that night
I realized something
I had never felt anything
I had never learnt anything
I had never known anything
A thousand little hurts
tumbled out of my heart
and the loss of her
sank in like a ship
being launched on the clyde
that's how I felt
on the night she died
And in the morning
adrift on the swell
of unfamiliar emotion
unwilling to release her
to that eternal ocean.

Kenneth Koch

One Train May Hide Another by Kenneth Koch
(sign at a railroad crossing in Kenya)

In a poem, one line may hide another line,
As at a crossing, one train may hide another train.
That is, if you are waiting to cross
The tracks, wait to do it for one moment at
Least after the first train is gone. And so when you read
Wait until you have read the next line—
Then it is safe to go on reading.
In a family one sister may conceal another,
So, when you are courting, it's best to have them all in view
Otherwise in coming to find one you may love another.
One father or one brother may hide the man,
If you are a woman, whom you have been waiting to love.
So always standing in front of something the other
As words stand in front of objects, feelings, and ideas.
One wish may hide another. And one person's reputation may hide
The reputation of another. One dog may conceal another
On a lawn, so if you escape the first one you're not necessarily safe;
One lilac may hide another and then a lot of lilacs and on the Appia
Antica one tomb
May hide a number of other tombs. In love, one reproach may hide another,
One small complaint may hide a great one.
One injustice may hide another—one colonial may hide another,
One blaring red uniform another, and another, a whole column. One bath
may hide another bath
As when, after bathing, one walks out into the rain.
One idea may hide another: Life is simple
Hide Life is incredibly complex, as in the prose of Gertrude Stein
One sentence hides another and is another as well. And in the laboratory
One invention may hide another invention,
One evening may hide another, one shadow, a nest of shadows.
One dark red, or one blue, or one purple—this is a painting
By someone after Matisse. One waits at the tracks until they pass,
These hidden doubles or, sometimes, likenesses. One identical twin
May hide the other. And there may be even more in there! The obstetrician
Gazes at the Valley of the Var. We used to live there, my wife and I, but
One life hid another life. And now she is gone and I am here.
A vivacious mother hides a gawky daughter. The daughter hides
Her own vivacious daughter in turn. They are in
A railway station and the daughter is holding a bag
Bigger than her mother's bag and successfully hides it.
In offering to pick up the daughter's bag one finds oneself confronted by
the mother's
And has to carry that one, too. So one hitchhiker
May deliberately hide another and one cup of coffee
Another, too, until one is over-excited. One love may hide another love
or the same love
As when "I love you" suddenly rings false and one discovers
The better love lingering behind, as when "I'm full of doubts"
Hides "I'm certain about something and it is that"
And one dream may hide another as is well known, always, too. In the
Garden of Eden
Adam and Eve may hide the real Adam and Eve.
Jerusalem may hide another Jerusalem.
When you come to something, stop to let it pass
So you can see what else is there. At home, no matter where,
Internal tracks pose dangers, too: one memory
Certainly hides another, that being what memory is all about,
The eternal reverse succession of contemplated entities. Reading
A Sentimental Journey look around
When you have finished, for Tristram Shandy, to see
If it is standing there, it should be, stronger
And more profound and theretofore hidden as Santa Maria Maggiore
May be hidden by similar churches inside Rome. One sidewalk
May hide another, as when you're asleep there, and
One song hide another song; a pounding upstairs
Hide the beating of drums. One friend may hide another, you sit at the
foot of a tree
With one and when you get up to leave there is another
Whom you'd have preferred to talk to all along. One teacher,
One doctor, one ecstasy, one illness, one woman, one man
May hide another. Pause to let the first one pass.
You think, Now it is safe to cross and you are hit by the next one. It
can be important
To have waited at least a moment to see what was already there

A little local/global problem

Follow up

What is truth?

For many people
If the personal delusion of who they think they are
were removed from them
then their personality would collapse
in a blithering heap of disorientation.

The truth of who we are is in how we are seen by God.
The truth is not in our own judgement or opinion or criterion or fantasy
the truth of who we are is what God sees when He looks at us.

By nature we compare ourselves with other people,
and by nature we need to find someone or something to be less than we are.
But at the end of the day it's all a human folly that can and has become an evil.
We are already witnesses to what can happen when the flaws in human nature become a political dogma legislated into law.
The beginning of knowing the truth is to see ourselves as a sinner in the sight of God.
This is the first photo in the album of seeing ourselves as God sees us.

Thou God seest me. Genesis 16:13.

Mr Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen - Closing Time
Uploaded by beautifulcynic. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

Dring dring

And the phone rang it was her again,
Could I come to the office
"No" I replied
"Can't you deal with it, without me being there
don't you have procedures for these things"
"No" she replied
"There's a form to be signed, two in fact
and it's not my responsibility".
"Well" I replied
"When I handed you the cheque last week
you didn't mind the responsibility then"
"Anyway I can't come today
My uncle has been bitten by a mad dog
they're now both foaming at the mouth
and I'll have to take him to hospital.
My brother thinks it's Sunday
and he wants a big breakfast
but I've nothing in to make him a big breakfast
so I'll have to take him with me
and stop at a cafe' on the way back.
The dog has defecated on the driver's seat of my car
when you rang I was looking for a shovel.
My friend has locked himself in the toilet
screaming he's going to kill himself
because his partner of ten years has dumped him.
The Vet managed to shoot himself with the tranquiliser dart
he's on some kind of trip and is up on the roof
shouting to the world he's in love with his wife's brother.
More police have just arrived these one's to take a statement
from my neighbour's girlfriend, she stayed here last night
after more drunken stitches, for him that is.
Wait a minute...they've shot the dog.
The fire brigade are here now trying to reach the Vet
an ambulance has arrived for my uncle
the police must have called for it
they've also arrested my neighbour's girlfriend.
My brother has just kicked in the toilet door
screaming louder than my friend that he can't get his breakfast
with him locked in the toilet.
So I'll have to take my brother for his breakfast
would tomorrow morning about ten O'clock do".

I've just written this to amuse myself

Milk for the road

Milk for the road

Subtle sickly sweet hypocrisies
turn them sour overnight
xenophobic by morning
Police and men from the council
demand that we move on
from their picturesque village
and neighbourly people
We are breaking the law
of aesthetic ambiance
causing the people
to become transmogrified
by our vicinity
to their cocoon
of acceptable association

This is one of the first poems I wrote.
It's about my family being moved on by police and council men
which was a regular occurrence.

Street Life

I find myself thinking about their legacy, if there is one at all.
Or are they and all other people who rail against the establishment only like flies
buzzing around the horns of the charging bull of political and corporate power.

Something else

The dignity of man

Sometimes it must be better to risk being killed than to die of shame.

Houston we have a problem

This is Andromeda the closest spiral galaxy to our own.
If we could travel at the speed of light for 2,500,000 years we could visit.
But this might be a wee bit in the future as the speed of light is 669,600,000 miles per hour and the space shuttle travels at 17,500 miles per hour.
For now it may be best to look after our own world and each other while we wait.

The Church

Watching Earthrise from the Moon we see the cradle of the human race
Glimmering like a sapphire set in the jewelled crown of space.

Harold Pinter

There is no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal,
nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false.
I believe that these assertions still make sense and still apply to the - (exploration of reality through art).
So as a writer I stand by them but as a citizen I cannot.
As a citizen I must ask: What is true? What is false? - Harold Pinter.

For me as a citizen of the Kingdom of God I must also ask: What is true? What is false?
And when I look to Christian leaders should I expect more than to be gunged with a grey sludge of uncertainty.
From those whom God has chosen and entrusted with the proclamation and the teaching of His word I need to hear
"This is true" "This is false" "This is right" "This is wrong"

Talk talk

When I was growing up
I knew nothing about sectarianism, it was a subject that never came up.
Or anything about ethnic prejudice or colour or creed or football.
Politics wasn't talked about much either apart from which party were in power and who the leaders were.

Both my Father and my Mother were gregarious and accomplished conversationalists.
People would come for miles to visit them and they could talk and hold peoples attention for hours on end.
My Father would not allow swearing or any kind of crude talk in our home. We were not allowed to swear. And I've seen him stopping people half way through a story if he thought it was getting too crude for us to hear.
People would also come to my parents for advice and sometimes for help and they would always do what they could for them.

Some things you don't notice until you begin to grow up and see how other people live.
My parents always taught us to respect people and never make fun of anyone. What they were saying was - Who you are is not in someone else's gift and also who you are should not depend upon having to make someone smaller or less than you.
Even though as Travellers my parents and family were at times denied the respect they showed to others this sense of the will to show people respect was immutably ingrained in our psyche.

Tk Bedford

My Father used to keep lorries like this one.
He worked at collecting scrap metal all his life.
In the spring of 1971 we were staying about three miles outside Fort William, we had two trailers on a piece of ground just off the main road.
One morning My Father went away early before I was up, he was going to Perth.
Later in the day me and my Mother went into Fort William to get shopping and we went to visit my Mother's brother Jimmy Stewart who had a house at the time in Claggan.
By this time it was the afternoon and there was a knock at my uncle's door it was a young policeman telling us that my Father had an accident with his lorry.
He had a head on crash with a Hemphill tanker on a narrow bend between Tyndrum and Crianlarich.
The chassis on his lorry was lower than the chassis on the other lorry so his cab took the full impact the men in the other lorry were okay but my Father was critically injured.
He was kept alive until he reached the hospital by a retired lady Doctor who went with him in the ambulance to Stirling. She was driving behind him when he had the accident and had her bag with her out of habit.
Five months later he came out of the Hospital on crutches.

Jensen Interceptor

I was standing in the square in Crieff and this drove by
Being driven slowly and nervously by an attractive young woman
to me it was like seeing a space ship it was 1969 and I was 16.

Ford Transit Mk 1

My brother bought a new Mk 1 Transit in 1968 it cost £750

Not a good year

1981 was not a good year.
My Father who was 67 and my Mother who was 61 were both seriously ill.
They both died in November my Mother on the 6th and my Father on the 24th.
At the time we were living in a trailer (caravan) in Falkirk
and we spent the rest of the winter being moved from place to place
around Falkirk and Stirling. A farmer shifted us on the 2nd of January 1982
telling us how good it was of him letting us stay on new years day.

An ambiguous leopard

An ambiguous leopard
leapt in the air
choosing a moment of glory
before a life of despair
The man brought it down
down in a heap
at his feet
on the street
He told the reporter
"The leopard was ambiguous
I had to bring it down"
The keeper said
"It was like a kitten"
The headlines read
"Hero slays wild leopard
in Kensington"

I wrote this poem in July 1981
I remember the date because I had it in my pocket
written on a scrap of paper when I watched the wedding
of Charles and Diana on tv

The law-abiding have nothing to fear

"Porajmos" page in Wikipedia. An interview of Dr Robert Ritter.
You've no idea how contemporary this scene is to me.
Every Traveller family in Scotland has had men in suits accompanied by police
fumbling through papers and asking questions.