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"In sickness and in health"

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                     Dear God

  I hope it’s not an awkward time to talk but I want to say

thanks for the wake up call last Saturday afternoon. I had

not expected to hear from You so soon but I need to tell You,

up front, I always wanted You to get in touch, but not yet.

  Let me also put on the table that should I fall asleep with

You, forgive me in advance for not being so attentive in

my hurrying years. Somehow we both seemed to drift

away from each other, other things to do I suppose.


 With all these tubes and measuring instruments embedded

in me, I have not been able to get around as much as before,

and this has given me time to think about You and your kind

invitation to join the others in your lovely home.


I admit I did waiver, there were moments on that mountain 

when I felt I could join, should join You, but now I am

getting better and I am not so sure any more. May I make

a suggestion and ask that your next call be put off for a time?


 You see I like my life, now that they tell me I have more time

than I thought last Saturday. I am making plans for the future,

I am going to be very busy for a while and perhaps the best way

To leave things is that we get in touch when I am ready.



Unknown times, shadow places.


There was in the beginning, unbidden, a flickering

in first morning light, an awakening in the wakening,

quietude only in the sleeping of dream nights tumbling

into flickering morning light, a woken awakening



in offered hopes, dreams dangling on ends of worn

thread, woven by shrunken toothless hags, born

to weave and spin unearthly cloaks, precious yet torn,

raggedy in their hanging places, seated in early morn



They laugh and talk, haggle and yawn, hands strangling

impatient cocks, awakening in the wakening, flickering

first thoughts into morning light, breasts pounding

their call is numbed, then smothered, life for the taking.


@ Martin Delany



Ash Wednesday 1994

Greying the light thins
on this decision
for me or not to be
victor meets derision.

Trusting is not for me
losing so often
to bite, bullet or lip
applauding or scoffing.

Working at one thing
is not my real quest
for my mind must range
expanding not depressed.

Freedom from all ties
of rat-grind consensus
I know myself now and
seldom sit on fences.

Remembering that we
in dust can be reborn
a faith that will fulfil me
as some my view scorn.



They drained the marsh that sought the land.
And for a use God had not planned.
The Toads and Frogs and Newts weren't asked.
And seeding Flowers were cast and dashed.

They J.C.B.'d and laid out sumps.
And shifted stones and flattened clumps.
And tarmacadamed in the Spring.
Just as the Birds began to sing.

They mashed Nests flat and squashed the mat.
No Spawn this year..none in fact.
Nor Birds or Bees..no little Flowers.
They went and built some lofty towers.

Two years have passed the Space is left.
A two acre site,  purpose bereft.
The stroke of a pen that drained the ground.
Has not quite yet its usage found..

"No loss to Nature nor the Nation".
They plan to build a Fallout Station !



The science of living, the logic of love
Religion's the gift from God above
True freedom's held bound by the laws of the land
And man can deny them by sleight of the hand.
But, who gave us science our low games to play ?
Who told us to cherish?, who'll bear us away ?
The laughter of living, the joy of lost youth
In lenten years  aware of the truth.
The spectre of death, that war-game of hate
Controlled all our vision both early and late
Bound down by false prophets with no fear or guilt
We've cruelly destroyed all the worth that he built
The animals die like seals they cry out
The trees live no longer in ditches of silt
From profligate waste to profits for few
And these are the gifts we can never renew
Who gave us the mind to build or destroy
Has left us to ponder in hate or in joy
But one thing is certain, now we're resigned
To kill nature's bounty, his gift to mankind !
@mike morrison