While David Battles Goliath!

A spine of steal,

Beneath a mummer’s face,

Shrewd, wiley and full of cunning;

Observant and perceptive;

Singularly, self-serving;

Topped by an unshakeable self-belief,

All, qualities, aspired for and shared,

By schizophrenics, leaders of industry and celebrity alike;

While mad David battles Goliath,

What is the bystander who shares none of these qualities to do?

Dodge the stones and swings thrown askance,

Guard your modest flock and home,

Take comfort from the simple pleasures others tend to overlook:

Like watching the sun rise and fall in changing hues,

Casting reflections on a tepid stream that abuts your home,

Taking modest sips to quench the thirst of you and yours,

Ensuring you’ll have enough to sustain you today and  tomorrow,

And, hope and pray that others further up the stream do the same,

Appreciating the gospel truth:

By the grace of God, be I and mine;

For horror and suffering are bottomless pits,

And I must tend my flock as best as I can with what I have,

Until I take the final bow from this minor re-occurring role at the theatre of life.

Pain into Art!

Absorb the unrelenting pain,

Whatever the cause;

The challenges it brings,

Consider and reflect;

Distil it,

To see what few others can;

Let it become an obsession,

Take great pains to turn it into something beautiful,

For, the best artistic endeavours are labours of love;

Pain is an inevitable part of both loving and living;

Mastering a source of unrelenting pain,

Beckoning creativity from it,

To transform into something breathtakingly beautiful,

Is another reason they call the end product,

Done well:

A ‘masterpiece’!

Bended Knees

From the moment you could stand,

A torrent of elemental forces have been eclipsed by you,

Resenting your audacity to defy their influence,

Every effort has been made to force you into submission;

Playing with your life like a casual pastime,

Rejoicing at your struggles as if they were a satisfying result by design;

Although your impact on them is marginal,

They remain determined- simply, because:

The manner of your existence has sought to rise above your station, and emerge nominally into theirs;

Wherein, from your perspective:

Tortured fables berate and assail ;

Like rapids over jagged stone,

Worn down to smooth pebble,

As the journey slowly creeps forward,

Crawling on bended knees:

Over barbs and broken glass of every description;

On scuffed knees and trailing blood-soaked,

Before the altar of hope;

Until health deteriorates,

Morale fragments,

Haunting you with doubt,

As you reach nearer the doors,

Will you be un-bent and undefeated,

Or a total spent force?

Counting the minutes in anticipation,

Bearing criss-cross scars,


Nursing open wounds, and more besides,

Both within and without;

Then stand-up on painful broken, deformed limbs,

No matter how pathetically,

And scream your defiance at your maker,

Or, whoever stands behind those pearly doors,

Your would-be-torturer-by-proxy,

And, decry:

‘You have taken everything from me i’ve ever had,’

‘Done your worst and then some,’

‘But, here. I. Still. Stand.’

‘Do your worse,’

‘For I have long passed caring’,

As you have become numb to all feeling, save one: