A Vital Title Race

November 26, 2020

Nobody questions the madness of a competition

While vaccine-chasing goes on by divided research

And nations contest nations to be first to bask-in

The others’ limelit failure

The waste delay whilst remedy is distributed

Till cannonades of arquebus bang out we beat allcomers!

As if a true heart needed wordy praise, pressed impetus,

That gives a rush only to jousting blockheads pillows

The fraudulent, the vapid, the repute dishonoured

The fool who has said in his heart there is no God

Shoots for the money dollars and the headline glory blaze

A stand in the public gaze another hidebound basileus

Sold on the thirty pieces and that bonded pound of flesh

By humble Portia ceded as redress to violence

Articulating Holy sentence against attaint of blood

Against indemnities, injunctions

Grand darkened-hearted ‘can’t afford it’ ideologue policy

Not ever should see fortune-seekers ally, gather,

Not ever upon global need should loose a sanction’s tether

A greed for Nobel Prizes straight surmises and replies,

Replaces, buys, divides attentions into pitted sides -

Tall calls bleat notional ‘we’re all in this together’

Which sits and fits unlikely on the tongues of tailored lips

Whose gaming chances, dark advances, reek of media pitch

Don’t be defiled

Were this Atlantis or The Day After Tomorrow

Of a magnitude solicitude falls wholly into place

And banded bonded on our knees we were asking God for Grace

Tag-teams’ pipe-dreams of glamour consecrated

To ‘who’s first past the post’, would savour madness, horror

Ridiculous, unfathomable even to meanest wits

A case for close collusion stands; claims-assessors may not stitch

This to advantage, this way, that; The Fiery Pillar

Of Cloud by night might manifest in mighty manner

A sign condign sufficient, and as obvious

Necessity asks for one accord, one Clapham omnibus

Placed in the featly succour of The Worthy Lamb our Lord

Would be too much?

History Today

The past has nothing to do with us

It only tells us what we are

And time erases like a besom sweeps

As it goes passing, pays indifference

We are the future and the times are with us; ours

What was done yesterday by us has been forgotten

Time is a thin thread line of daily shredded cotton

Living the moment cannot be replaced

The lies untold in reason’s name caress carreen together

The siblings of the age sunbathe in lopside mirrors

And work a triage out of pert impostured presents

Times past another country, and a virtual cemetery

Nothingness history; all’s gone; all’s translated

Into the silent planet, run to a Sheol fate

Cannot in any sense be read, for real; they cannot touch it

Time holds no archive, architecture – let’s go watch cricket

There’s an impudence in a proving present; it does exist; as we

It’s a deep cut groove unlooked for, plain and obvious

It’s a drift in which we live – condign impossibility

No anchor nor toe hold nor niche that grips; not viably

A draft as hard as a pleasant pint to order, drink,

Percentage proof to engage to lethargy

Parks brains of The Lotus Eaters, always holidaying

Away from the norns who curb all fair-cast weathers

This lay is a play on ergo sum intelligence

Which frosts a hoarded screen; a theme beyond

Untaught that bothers the freighted islanders, the few

Escaped observers cut adrift, from human terms untented

Acceptant, face an adjustment, leveling-up the will

Thus history, or for good or ill, has falling walls

Felled, let-go hold-of, nursery-rhymes did stay it

Shrunk before thunder losing common credit

Foregathering, the heart’s Last Things dispel the opiate

Alternate vastity engages, a concierge no more closes

Cathedrals of the mind, the master-claims of human artifice.

Contextualising, frameworks broaden, bringing better place

A tabled spread renerving, wakes, regenerates, opens history

To view The Emmaus Road the beloved physician gave us

Atunes, brings in new brooms, advances asks, and credence,

The Lord, moving his music through the serried holds of time

Your sins forgives you