Isaiah

I'll never forget the angel
  flying down with cleansing fire
fire too hot to touch.

My lips may be clean
  but still there are times
   when the scars smoulder with the memory.

And so on I go
  your searing stamp of approval
   the agony and the ecstasy
 a reminder that YHWH is Salvation…

Preaching to the choir of selves

I talk a lotta talk but I don't
walk a lotta walk,
I try to live to please You but I
just can't shake the awk..ward..

voice that nags and says "You know what?
maybe take your eyes off you;
fix 'em firmly back on Jesus and
remember…He loves you."

"He loves you when the going's good, when
all things come up Milhouse,
and just as much when things are grey,
and all you feel is s—house!"

"He knows you want to please Him
so remember that you do!
Now get out of your self-right funk
and go love others too…"

A curious beast

Here a Rum-tum-tugg-o-war
A NY state of mind,
A yin & yang of fear defined
by pride and self-obsess galore…

Saturday morning

Sunlight streaming through my window/
urging me to go and do/
all I want is/
for the world to/
shove off
for a-
while and
let me
be…

Prodigal brothers in arms

"Are we so different?"
younger brother calls to elder.
"We both know the old dodderer
means well, but you've got to
admit He's a bit misguided.
We've got brains, we've got time -
let's go, see what we can do!"

"Are you kidding?!"
rejoined the elder.
"We have a real base here! It's true
the Old Man is a bit tiresome, but
this farm's a solid investment!
Soon He'll die, and we can run things
the way they should be done! Or at least
not pretend so much…"

So the younger ran out one way
and threw away his lot, while
the other toiled and strained and
worked long years on
his share of the plot.

And all the while the Father grieved
for the day His two lost sons would
come back to His heart, and Home.

Voice, Part 2

"Be still", the Voice said.
What did I have to lose?
So I tried it and…

On the cooling of the weather…

Winter time draws near / Seasonal Affective Dis-/ Orders me about

---

From Twitter, as I sat on a tram...

Voice, Part 1

"Be still," the Voice said.
"Be still? Are you kidding?" I thought.

I've got to get my
my views opined
doctrines aligned
vices maligned
sins disinclined

My style designed
life plan outlined
hobbies defined
a wife to find
that You've assigned somewhere, presumably

and bear in mind
I've got the daily grind
sucks out the zest, the lemon rind
of life that comes and perks the mind

and all of these combined
just serve to take my bind
and wind it up
so this is why like most mankind
I'm disinclined
to lie inclined
and listen to
Your still, small Voice.

Bourj Al-Barajneh: A lament

New year, new poem! Wrote this after coming back from a trip to the Middle East. Spent some time with people I barely knew (but now consider good friends) tooling around sightseeing and attempting to be make the world a better place. We did do some openly Christian stuff, but some of the images that stuck the most closely to me are from time we spent in a Palestinian refugee camp in Bourj Al-Barajneh, Beirut. There's a great NGO called the Inma Foundation we were able to volunteer with; painting, cleaning, and decorating their centre within the camp. Check them out. I could try and spend words and words and words explaining the plight of these refugees – but maybe you need to go educate yourself as well :). Too many words, not enough poetry!

---

I saw a truck driving through Bourj Al-Barajneh Camp
It carried a load of rubble
And a set of keys to a dream
that will never be realised.

I saw a man walking through Bourj Al-Barajneh Camp
His body wasn't staying still
But his soul was firmly stuck
in that box of concrete, wires and despair.

I saw children playing in Bourj Al-Barajneh Camp
They weren't running, excited,
Full of joy and light because
They didn't know they were allowed.

I saw a Son of Man in Bourj Al-Barajneh Camp
He said He had plans for His children,
For a hope and for a future.
I'm glad Somebody does at least.

Mondays with McGonagall: The Battle of El-Teb

This week, we're looking at our poet's take on the second Battle of El-Teb. It doesn't seem to be a particularly important battle on the world stage (particularly for the residents of Dundee, or indeed anywhere), but thanks to his efforts, we can learn about it in a form other than prose...

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The Battle Of El-Teb

Ye sons of Great Britain, I think no shame
To write in praise of brave General Graham!
Whose name will be handed down to posterity without any stigma,
Because, at the battle of El-Teb, he defeated Osman Digna.

With an army about five thousand strong,
To El-Teb, in the year 1884, he marched along,
And bivouacked there for the night;
While around their fires they only thought of the coming fight.

They kept up their fires all the long night,
Which made the encampment appear weird-like to the sight;
While the men were completely soaked with the rain,
But the brave heroes disdained to complain.

The brave heroes were glad when daylight did appear,
And when the reveille was sounded, they gave a hearty cheer
And their fires were piled up higher again,
Then they tried to dry their clothes that were soaked with the rain.

Then breakfast was taken about eight o'clock,
And when over, each man stood in the ranks as firm as a rock,
And every man seemed to be on his guard --
All silent and ready to move forward.

The first movement was a short one from where they lay --
Then they began to advance towards El-Teb without dismay,
And showed that all was in order for the fray,
While every man's heart seemed to feel light and gay.

The enemy's position could be seen in the distance far away
But the brave heroes marched on without delay --
Whilst the enemy's banners floated in the air,
And dark swarms of men were scattered near by there.

Their force was a large one -- its front extended over a mile,
And all along the line their guns were all in file;
But as the British advanced, they disappeared,
While our brave kilty lads loudly cheered.

Thus slowly and cautiously brave General Graham proceeded
And to save his men from slaughter, great caution was needed,
Because Osman Digna's force was about ten thousand strong;
But he said, Come on, my brave lads, we'll conquer them ere long!

It was about ten o'clock when they came near the enemy's lines,
And on the morning air could be heard the cheerful chimes
Corning from the pipes of the gallant Black Watch,
Which every ear in the British force was eager to catch.

Then they passed by the enemy about mid-day,
While every Arab seemed to have his gun ready for the fray
When a bullet strikes down General Baker by the way,
But he is soon in the saddle again without delay,

And ready for any service that he could perform;
Whilst the bullets fell around them in a perfect storm
That they had to lie down, but not through fear,
Because the enemy was about 800 yards on their left rear.

Then General Graham addressed his men,
And said, If they won't attack us, we must attack them,
So start to your feet, my lads, and never fear,
And strike up your bagpipes, and give a loud cheer.

So they leapt to their feet, and gave a loud cheer,
While the Arabs swept down upon them without the least fear,
And put aside their rifles, and grasped their spears;
Whilst the British bullets in front of them the earth uptears.

Then the British charged them with their cold steel,
Which made the Arabs backward for to reel;
But they dashed forward again on their ranks without dismay,
But before the terrible fire of their musketry they were swept away.

Oh, God of Heaven! it was a terrible sight
To see, and hear the Arabs shouting with all their might
A fearful oath when they got an inch of cold steel,
Which forced them backwards again and made them reel.

By two o'clock they were fairly beat,
And Osman Digna, the false prophet, was forced to retreat
After three hours of an incessant fight;
But Heaven, 'tis said, defends the right.

And I think he ought to be ashamed of himself;
For I consider he has acted the part of a silly elf,
By thinking to conquer the armies of the Lord
With his foolish and benighted rebel horde.

Mondays with McGonagall: Ode to Edward VII

This week's McGonagall (late, I know – I'm sorry) is an ode that William wrote for the coronation of Edward VII of England. My guess is he'd been itching to write a coronation poem for years, having spent most of his career during the long reign of Queen Victoria.

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Oh! God, I thank Thee for restoring King Edward the Seventh's health again,
And let all his subjects throughout the Empire say Amen;
May God guard him by night and day,
At home and abroad, when he's far away.

May angels guard his bed at night when he lies down,
And may his subjects revere him, and on him do not frown;
May he be honoured by them at home and abroad,
And may he always be protected by the Eternal God.

My blessing on his noble form, and on his lofty head,
May all good angels guard him while living and when dead;
And when the final hour shall come to summons him away,
May his soul be wafted to the realms of bliss I do pray.

Long may he reign, happy and serene,
Also his Queen most beautiful to be seen;
And may God guard his family by night and day,
That they may tread in the paths of virtue and not go astray.

May God prosper King Edward the Seventh wherever he goes,
May he always reign victorious over his foes;
Long may he be spared to wear the British Crown,
And may God be as a hedge around him at night when he lies down;
May God inspire him with wisdom, and long may he reign
As Emperor of India and King Edward the VII. --Amen.