Self pity
like self love
can be simple
or elaborate
and seem to meet a need
ignite a spark of feeling
confer a moment of comfort.
Ultimately though
self pity
like self love
is an empty promise
that tempts you back with lies;
it’s really
just
pointless wank.
Author Archives: Scribbler
Let’s get a coffee sometime
They first met
in a multi-national chain.
Appropriately enough
it wasn’t too taxing
for a first date.
Anonymous
homogenous
a setting without soul to host
a tentative appraisal
two halves reaching
carefully
for a whole
As things progressed
they stepped away
from the highways to the byways;
sought intimacy and warmth
in side roads that nurtured
subtler, bijoux, discrete saloons.
A warmth and depth and character
the home you never had;
steam rising in the half-light
a fire in the snug
supportive and enveloping
like a slow and welcome hug.
When things got serious
they stopped going out.
DeLonghi and Lavazza
competed to fuel
lazy Sunday mornings
and late Saturday nights.
From an occasion to occasional
by a simple trick of light.
The last time they met
was back where it began.
A swapping of keys
for a small bag of remnants
and otherwise forgotten things.
No looks, no glances.
Anonymous
homogenous
coffee just a prop
spilt
pooling
cooling
a mark
to be wiped away
in time.
.
2013-03-25
A thought sparked by this rather marvellous doodle from Beth Fenton
Welcome
So here it is. A little corner of the Internet that will occasionally be updated with some dubious poetry. I’m still not sure if this is a vanity project, an exercise in self-humiliation, or just something to do for a bit of fun.
Life
Life
is something
something
that happens to
other people
They are caught up in swirling bustling vibrant vital torrents
of
intense friendships
crucial activities
the coolest things
a carefree dream
of
good times
expectant mornings
dynamic afternoons
and sunny evenings
warm with the afterglow
of great experience shared
Their future a blank page
a broad canvas
clear and bursting with promise
Wrapped in the heart of Life
other people are not
detached
disconnected
up and off-centre
like a cheap out of body experience
an objective
(objectionable)
viewpoint
2011-06-10
Paved with good intentions
The thing about the future is
It’s always out of reach
Safe haven for the promises
We don’t intend to keep
Made with the best intentions
From principles good and true
But despite our aspirations
We know we’ll never do
The thing about the future is
The future doesn’t last
With every passing moment
The future becomes past
2011-05-29
Untitled (Resurrection / Empty Cross)
Resurrection
After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.
There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightening, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”
So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings,” he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshipped him.
Gospel of Matthew 28: 1- 9
Untitled (Soldiers Gamble for Jesus’ Clothes)
Dice
Another day, another denarius. I could really have done without pulling another duty up on the hill, though, to be honest. There aren’t many of the things we have to do that are fun exactly, but keeping order at the executions has to come pretty close to the bottom of the list.
Not that I’ve much time for the people we process – chances are, if you’re assigned a cross, you’ve put yourself in a position to deserve it one way or another. No, it’s not that. It’s just the whole nature of the day. Early start, flogging up from the city, sometimes literally, with a bunch of criminals who funnily enough aren’t too keen on co-operating; half of them probably trying to find ways to get themselves killed before we get there. Then the fight to get them on and up, followed by a tedious day out in the heat. Their victims jeering and hurling abuse. Maybe the odd friend or family member grieving or standing vigil. The occasional mad, misguided rescue attempt. The shouts, groans, protests and curses from above and all around. Tension, hate, grief, the stink of fear and death.
And of course, we’re in charge. We’re authority. So no room for weakness, no signs of doubt – club together, the bravado of the gang, mocking, jeering, and distracting ourselves however we can just to get to the end of the shift. Why else do we gamble for their possessions? I mean, the pay’s not great, but most of these people are only clad in rags by the time they come to us, and none of us are that hard up.
Still, can’t have bleeding hearts in the army. The job needs doing, and it’s us that get to do it. Keep your head down, don’t stand out for the wrong reasons, get on with it and get through the day as best you can.
What other choice is there?
Strange Way (Martyn Joseph)
Crucifixion
Strange way to start a revolution
Strange way to get a better tan
Strange way to hold a power breakfast
Strange way to show your business plan
Strange way to test if wood would splinter
Strange way to do performance art
Strange way to say “I’ll see you later”
Strange way to leave behind your heart
Strange dissident of meekness
And nurse of tangled souls
And so unlike the holy
To end up full of holes
It’s a strange way
Strange way to hang around for hours
Strange way to imitate a kite
Strange way to get a view of Auschwitz
Strange way to represent the light
Strange way to watch for stormy weather
Strange way to disprove gravity
Strange way to go around fund-raising
Strange way to sing “I’m liberty”
Strange dissident of meekness
And nurse of tangled souls
And so unlike the holy
To end up full of holes
Strange way
Strange way to test for haemophilia
Strange way to spend a happy hour
Strange way to down a bitter cocktail
Strange way to merchandise your power
Strange way to reassure your mother
Strange way to finish your world tour
Strange way to pose for countless paintings
Strange way to gather in the poor
Strange dissident of meekness
And nurse of tangled souls
And so unlike the holy
To end up full of holes
Strange way
The world is too much with us
Could we not now just elope?
Strange way to hold us closer
Strange way to give us hope
Strange way…
Lyrics copyright © Martyn Joseph, Stewart Henderson, Carol Henderson