Thursday, 17 March 2016

Thursday, the road continues

The road continues.
The path beyond the palm strewn entrance,
the angry violence of the temple courts,
to the stone steps of an upper room:
the welcome of an open door,
anxious friends,
and a celebration of the past
which becomes the future.
The bright sun of Sunday
burnt up in an instant
prepared, ordained,
schemed and planned
in eternity.
Yet the storm cloud of rejection
hides behind the horizon,
darkening with the coming of night,
gathering momentum,
undertone to the celebration.

The gentle washing
of the dusty day from feet
as we enter a womb of refuge
and the door closes.

A cup of wine refreshes
and begins its anaesthesia.
The camaraderie
of friends and brothers
journeys conversations;
banter begins its camouflage
and smiles seep into the fear.

Another cup of wine
and the breaking of bread
the safe familiarity
of Passover;
the security of history,
the illusion of a future.

And the storm cloud of rejection
darkens the coming of night,
gathering momentum,
on another page.

Wednesday, 27 January 2016

Holocaust day 2016

History began before I was born;
before air struck the gong of life
into my insignificant life.
Millennia, centuries, decades, years
wrote pages of experience
in chapters we choose to ignore
or pass as fantasy
belonging in parallel universes
and otherworlds.

We mark the anniversaries
with blindness
as the remembrances of others
fade with their dying.

But our world, formed in love,
is tainted and defiled
by pen and sword
and the executions
of bigots.
And on this day.
THIS day,
we celebrate life,
and the opportunity
fail again.

To those who make decisions;
to those who pedal death,
street-sellers of hate and mistrust,
I bequeath history your nightmare
from which you cannot awaken.

Thursday, 21 January 2016

In absentia

I wrap my eyes with your image.
I close them and my eyelids filter you,
for you are not here.
My eyes fill
with emptiness
until the water flows.
I wrap my hands with your blouse;
its textures lie
for you are not within.
My hands fill
with emptiness,
a snake skin discard.
So I wrap myself around your neck
close as my favourite necklace
and kiss you goodnight
with absent lips.
Missing you.