Friday, 17 November 2017


This is not our life                     
or our time                                                          

this is an illusion of reality
composed of moments
when you still haunt me

You open a door
into a corridor within my mind
leading to another door
and into another life
a life lived in another time
mirrored in the memory
of what is to come

Time itself is an illusion
time is not outside us
time is within us
returning all things made
to the origin of substance

The body returns to dust
and the soul returns to God
we leave upon the Earth
the immortal human seed
and leap into timelessness

Where the past and the future
are remembered together
and the present invades all time

Where the light
floods the dungeons of hell
and the roar reverberates
bouncing off worlds

It is there that all are found Alive

Another door opens
and you are there
the love that never was 
and always is
the passion that never lived
and cannot die
captured in the amber of youth

Tainted, by being virtuous
Prodigal, by being dutiful
Lost, by being found at home.

Wednesday, 13 September 2017



You do not form our thinking
or give light to the blind
but articulate the consciousness
of the common human mind

The metamorphic substance
of the feeling in the air
the offspring of a generation
born of splendour and despair

The Man is a greater art
than any lauded statuary
and the essence of his soul
his wealth in abject poverty

The Woman is more beautiful
than a painting or a bronze
A Child's laughter more delightful
than a great composer's songs

A painting's easily admired
a composer gains a fan
more difficult to recognise
The God within a Man.

Wealth of Art.

Manipulate and exploit
the need and labour of the poor
and thus grow rich
And use that wealth
to buy what was a poor man's work
but is now called Art
and from it try to find that which you lack
the generous feeling of a poor man's heart.

By wealth pursue
in paint or bronze or clay
the Aura Trail of what the poor 
think and feel and pray
until at the end
the labour of the poor man's soul
is in the rich man's pocket
to keep for his amusement
or sell to make a profit.

Knowing Art.

She has a heavy fringe
two layers of lipstick
miss-matched clothes
and Grannie boots

She must know a lot about Art

But I've got a feeling
she'd present a dog's breakfast as art
if Cosmo said it was

She would consider a pile of bricks to be art
but the men who built her house
Too ignorant to know about art

I know where she bought her Grannie boots
they also sell Jack boots

She is in her element
She is with her clique
she knows her genre

You've got to hand it to her
she does function well
within the boundaries 
of her own personal delusion.

But then again, don't we all.

Sounds of Art.

It is generally accepted
that people who listen to classical music
do not brawl on the street

These people are much too sophisticated for that
These people wouldn't get their clothes dirty
These people would say "Tut Tut"

Some of these people only sign papers
That cause the deaths of untold thousands.

Looking for Art.

"Are you, looking for Art?
Well, it's not that
It's not on this or any other floor
it's at the back door
There is a pile of rags
within them is wrapped
a man attempting to sleep
and there is more art etched on his face
than there is in this whole Gallery
But are you, looking for Art?"

Thursday, 31 August 2017

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.

Tuesday, 14 March 2017


Careless Words.

They talk about them
like they are not there
they talk about them 
like they do not hear
they talk about them
with a wink and a nod
as though everyone agrees
and everyone knows what they mean
when they say "traveller"

They make grandiose statements
career ending statements
hounded out of public office statements
if they made them about any other group
any other group in the world
apart from "travellers"

They would gladly load the cattle trucks
all that's lacking is a law
all that's lacking is the paper work
the corporate abdication of personal responsibility
and the police would obey the law
and the army would obey the law
they could muster an Einsatzgruppen in a day

And if you stand perfectly still 
in this slip of the lip
you can feel humanity slip
you can feel the earth slip
toward oblivion.


Give up your Jews
Give up your Jews
Give up your Jews

And your Gypsies too

Give up your Colleagues
Give up your Neighbours
Give up your Friends

Give up them All
Give up Control
Give up your Soul

We have a Law...To make you Obey
We have a Law...To take you Away
We have a Law...To kill you Today

Law is Might...Wrong is Right
Dark is Light...Blind is Sight

No turning back at the Mississippi Turnpike

Now for Evensong.

Wednesday, 25 January 2017

The Room and other Poems.

The Room and other Poems.

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 alliance
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.


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
and the only flecks of light
are moments of relief
for those already dead

A thousand rabid rottweilers
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.

Saturday, 21 January 2017

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 alliance
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.

Tuesday, 6 September 2016


When we look at 
a refugee or an asylum seeker
if we do not see a fellow human being
in need of and meriting our help and support
then we need to look at ourselves 
because the fault is within us.

We need to have compassion
for refugees and asylum seekers
We will all become refugees from this world
and asylum seekers at the gates of heaven
How will it go for us
if when we were confronted
by people in the same condition
we just didn't respond to our duty of care. 

Saturday, 5 December 2015

The Menin Gate.

I'll meet you at the Menin Gate
You bring Free Will and I'll bring Fate.

You bring the Annals of human endeavour
And I'll bring Nancy, Wayne and Trevor.

I'll meet you on the mountain
in your moment of choice
to roar with the thunder
or hear the still small voice.

I'll meet you in the forest
cold and dark and deep
and rouse you from slumber
before you fall asleep.

I'll meet you in the wilderness
where you have gone astray
and be with you beside the tree
where you begin to pray.

I'll meet you at the Crossroads
you cannot be early or be late
I have already met you there
and know the time and date.

I'll meet you on the Bridge
I will not cross without you
and you will know on that day
I did not ever doubt you.

Friday, 4 December 2015

A Beautiful Heart.

The Lord does not look at the things people look at.
People look at the outward appearance,
but the Lord looks at the heart.’ 1 Samuel 16:7.

A Beautiful Heart,

Gracious, Loving, Forgiving,
Compassionate, Kind,
Thoughtful, Generous.

Saturday, 19 September 2015


Sectioned: The mental health act is applied to people
who are posing a danger to themselves or to other people.

Wednesday, 10 June 2015

'Have you got the Scrolls' - 'No I always walk like this'

 The heavens receded like a scroll being rolled up,
 and every mountain and island was removed from its place.
 Revelation 6

Is the universe a two dimensional mathematical equation
projected as three dimensional to the observer?

Is the observer also a dimension?

Saturday, 25 April 2015

Wednesday, 22 April 2015

The Past

Catching a glimpse of a time yet to come
is not seeing the future from the present
but is seeing the past from the future
it is not looking forward but looking back.

Glimpsing the future is from looking back over time
from a place where all time is history.

Thursday, 19 March 2015


       I look through a glass darkly
       darkened by my fallen sight
       the images are blurred
       but O my God I can see light.

Saturday, 7 March 2015

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.

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.


From the corner of my eye
I can almost see
in a recess of my mind
something dark is watching me
Moving in shadows
but not caused by light
emanating darkness

Held at the gate
by the keeper of the keys
kept in quarantine like a disease
Endlessly pacing
the confines of it's cell
Glaring defiantly
with the venom of hell

Here is
The accuser of my soul
the robber of my peace

Here is
The hand of iron
fashioned in a cross
fashioned to deceive

Here is
The God of racial supremacy
the master of the master race
the destroyer of worlds

And from you where can I flee
to the highest mountain or the deep blue sea
I will take you there with me.


As you get older you tend to see or have more of a handle on things as they are.
When you're younger you're full of ideals, you want to change the world.
Then one day you catch a glimpse in the mirror you don't like and realize this is the you that's just as bad as all the people you had wanted to save the world from.
Then you know you're not just the victim of all the bad stuff that goes on in the world you're also the perpetrator.
I suppose that's got something to do with the young being full of ideals and people who are a bit older receding into resignation.
Jesus said to his disciples - "you have more to learn but you cannot bear it all just now." I think some of what they could not bear was the truth about themselves in the sight of God.

Does this mean we should do nothing - No, we should still try but to me - not to change the world but to change one heart at a time beginning with our own.
What we need to find within ourselves is not the "good" but the "Jackbooted Goose-stepping Nazi." Subdue this part of ourselves first then the good will come.

Reposted from Friday 21 October 2011.

Sunday, 15 February 2015


With an Electron Holography Microscope and a Nanotube

There could be a possibility of locating and weighing

The integrity of a Newsreader.

Saturday, 7 February 2015

Kristiana Coignard.

“I think it was a cry for help,” Robertson said of the police interaction that ended in Coignard’s death. “I think they could have done something. They are grown men. I think there is something they are not telling us.” -  Link.

Sunday, 25 January 2015

Big Fish.

It would not be possible to exaggerate

The criminality the corruption and the depravity

 Within  Politics and Corporate Business.

 Their union creates

 The Third Entity

 A machine like system

 Of  heartless,  soulless and unaccountable

 Control, manipulation and exploitation.

Thursday, 15 January 2015

Prime Minister's Questions

 P M Qs

"If you don't stop picking your hair
you won't have any left to cover anything.
No I think it's slimming,
It's a lovely suit, you can't go wrong
with a dark blue mohair.
Did you bring the black shoes. Grey socks?
Your shirt's okay but the tie's a bit busy.
You're not giving the speech to Cherie!
You'd better have mine
I just put it on this morning
and nobody's seen it yet.
Yeah,  I know it's silk.
No, you look fine, give us a twirl
Oh, hold on a minute.
The severed Iraqi child's arm
in your top jacket pocket.
Here have this handkerchief instead
Ah, that's better.

Now go an' give 'em hell"

"Thank you Peter"

"You're Welcome"

The picture is of Dr David Kelly.

Harold Pinter.

Sunday, 11 January 2015

Pre - Birth. By Tony Blair the Devil's Gimp.

Jim Murphy - Tony Blair's Gimp.

Does this man want us to follow him or chase him. To me he reeks of  Tony Blair's slime,
and I think we should chase him all the way back to Westminster.
The photo is from BBC Scottish news, to inform us how great a guy he is.

Saturday, 10 January 2015

WD - 40 = The Population of Britain In My Lifetime.

 World Deaths By Suicide One Every 40 Seconds.
                                                                WHO Link.

Sunday, 28 December 2014

Please don't be kind to me.

Inalienable Charity.

Please don't be kind to me

I can't bear it's cruelty

or pay the price

of accepting your ideology

and applauding your humanity

Am I not a human being
alive upon the Earth
Do I not have the right
to live upon it
to walk upon it
to associate to communicate
to share in the produce of it's fields

why should any of these

be in your gift of kindness
be in your power to withhold

I have seen kindness
the kindness of those who say
"Thank you"
for tents with rotted canvas
for blankets musty with mould
for food out of date

for one bottle of water

costing one hundred barrels of oil

and one barrel of blood.

Thursday, 18 December 2014

Ghosts of the Forest.

They're all dead
that's not exactly true, Gilbert is still alive, if you could call it alive
but he was the most stubborn man I have ever known.
Susannah is dead
and I can remember her running around this garden
playing tricks on anyone willing to be gullible
well we're all gullible now.

The Media have their own slant on the events.

"Gypsies cause massacre of Villagers"

Apparently the  British Environmental Command
cleared the Forest exactly one year ago to the day
of all outlawed reprobate vagabonds.
Returning to conduct a sweep of the forest
the BEC came across the Village reclaim the forest picnic.

Mistaking fireworks for gunfire some of the younger recruits opened fire
this quickly lead to the whole command opening fire.
The Commander Heroically ran in front of the troops
calling out "Cease fire" but tragically was fatally wounded.

This would not have happened if it were not for the fact
that the clearing where the picnic was taking place
is erroneously considered to be a former Gypsy encampment.
All remaining Gypsies will be held accountable for causing this act of barbarity.

Social media testimony of  command recruit:

"We came to the clearing in the forest
it was full of gypsies, hundreds of wagons and tents
and a large crowd of gypsy families all just standing there staring at us.

Our Commander lined us up and then cried out "Fire"

This was what we signed up for, to do our duty
to serve our country, to uphold our laws.
To be the Vanguard of the new moral order.
We all emptied our magazines.

Then the Commander walked forward unholstered his handgun
and began to shoot those cowering behind the trees.
He reloaded his gun looked up then wandered round in circles
he was seeing what we were all seeing
the slaughter of the people from the nearby village.

He fell to his knees and shot himself in the head.

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

The Gift.

The Gift.

Yesterday morning
I opened my blind
and looked out from a different window
I was standing in the window
of the empty flat across the street
looking back at myself
I was holding up the lid of a shoe box
with these words written on it
"New Shoes"
Someone else was in the room
they came to the window
and looking over smiled at me
he looked like Kurt Cobain

I decided to do four things
leave the blind open
put up a washing line
wash my clothes
and tidy my flat

This morning
I opened the blind
and looked out from my window
A woman was moving into the flat across the street
I went over and helped her with her things
it wasn't difficult

Sitting on the steps drinking coffee
she said to me
"I don't care what I have
as long as I have peace"

I replied

"You know you're asking a lot"

"I know" she said
"But at least I've made a beginning"

"Well you've come to the right place
this is the street of new beginnings"

"Hurt" she said
"Is like an opening in the soul
it can be a matter of windows
from one window it looks like a pit
but from another window
it can look like the ground
has been dug out and prepared
prepared for the foundation
of a new beginning

To this I replied

"In my flat I have a sofa bed
I never use it in fact it's just in the way
I'd be grateful if you'd take it off my hands"

"I'll pay you for it" she replied

"Only if you pay me what I gave for it
I got it as a gift'
it's not much to look at
but it's comfortable and practical"

"Comfortable and practical'
sounds just what I need"
she said, slipping off her shoes
and then she said
"Look at my feet'
they look like two victims of trying to fit in
both carrying the marks of the past
I swear if I have to go barefoot
I'll never wear these shoes again"

"I doubt if you'll have to if you're willing to go barefoot"

She looks at me "I'm also willing to get new shoes"

"I know the very place"

"I believe you do and you can take that as a compliment
because right now that is one of the few things I do believe"

"Compliments, that is something I'm not used to"

"Well here is something for you to believe
you haven't missed much"

I looked into the face
of this world weary woman
and could see the eyes
of a hurt little girl welling up with tears
I struggled for something to say
and then realized I didn't have to say anything.

Saturday, 6 December 2014

Thursday, 4 December 2014

Just So.

just as you are
just bring yourself
just between you an' me
just arrived
just ran out
just kiddin'
just sits there
just an excuse
just in time
just give it a chance
just in
just out
just misst' it
just not working out
just have to face it
just because
just stop it...right
just a half pint
just a small one then
just a minute
just drove straight by (and it was raining)
just selfish
just a dream
just sick
just tell me what you want
just a thought
just get out of my face
just don't push your luck
just think it over
just past the house with the blue gate
just be yourself
just heard
just take your time
just do your best
just a hiccup
just as you say
just flew off the handle
just lost it
just try
just not what I expected...that's all.

Monday, 24 November 2014

Friday, 21 November 2014

Scottish Evening News - First Taster.

Scottish News is a social enterprise, funded by individual donations. This means our bulletin will be free from the influence of shareholders, politicians and advertisers. We are committed to independent journalism speaking truth to power, without fear or favour.


Last of carefree days.

Little Hand

You don't know
you're breaking my heart
or how I wish
it could be me instead of you
I sit at the bottom of your bed
and there's nothing I can do
I pray my earnest prayer
for God to let you stay
but know deep inside
he's taking you away

Carefully structured expectations
unspoken hopes and plans entwined
though struck by such a feeble hand
collapse entangled in the mind

This is the last of carefree days
of youthful jest and childlike joy
but captured moments of these and more
this day will not destroy

And the wounded heart will never
let go of this little hand
still reaching where the treasure is
will sojourn only in this land

And the wounded Saviour will never
let go of our grief and pain
God knows we do not understand
it's hard enough to be sane.