On my own
Only four monks so far
Surely more will arrive
Seven monks now
But still just me in the pews
What is contemplation for
What is meditation for
Are they a test of one’s doubts
Or is it to purge one’s doubts
Life without end
Life without end
One more parishioner joins me
Maybe he is Italian
Or Eastern European
He was late yesterday also
Should I buy him a watch
What are his troubles
What are my troubles
World without end
World without end
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Tuesday, 10 December 2019
Monday, 9 December 2019
Names, Places
The photograph
Of the crucifixion
Is by David Elford
We used to live
At Elford Park; actually
It is from there that I departed
That picture
Above the fireplace
It is dated 2014
The one to the side
Also by David Elford
Is dated 2009
Though that one is
Mostly of blue sky
With hazy white clouds
It is a little less certain
A little less
Finite
Of the crucifixion
Is by David Elford
We used to live
At Elford Park; actually
It is from there that I departed
That picture
Above the fireplace
It is dated 2014
The one to the side
Also by David Elford
Is dated 2009
Though that one is
Mostly of blue sky
With hazy white clouds
It is a little less certain
A little less
Finite
Sunday, 8 December 2019
07:45 Lauds
Nine monks in their place
Eight in the congregation
Myself included
Candles
Artificial light
True light
As the day begins
With call and response
Accompanied
By the new organ
New to me that is
Installed and commissioned
Since my last visit
I cannot find its sound
Although oh so so easily
I can feel it, I can hear it
Its reverberations settle within me
They set me free, they gift me life
Eight in the congregation
Myself included
Candles
Artificial light
True light
As the day begins
With call and response
Accompanied
By the new organ
New to me that is
Installed and commissioned
Since my last visit
I cannot find its sound
Although oh so so easily
I can feel it, I can hear it
Its reverberations settle within me
They set me free, they gift me life
Saturday, 7 December 2019
Say It No More
I might not even be here, after all there is
Absolutely no incoming communication
I have been, as it were ex-communicated
If that rings true
What is that song about spiders
There is a song isn’t there
Also a book about disquiet
Yes I am certain to have read it
If there is a plan then this is the plan
Bare oneself
To the wave after wave of nothingness
Riot after riot of unanswerable questions
With or without the headphones
Also with or without
Any prior contemplative knowledge
It is after all why I came here
To feel the ache of lost love
To feel the pain of lost love
To wallow
In the decrepitness of such loss
In the very middle
Of the darkest of the darkness of night
Absolutely no incoming communication
I have been, as it were ex-communicated
If that rings true
What is that song about spiders
There is a song isn’t there
Also a book about disquiet
Yes I am certain to have read it
If there is a plan then this is the plan
Bare oneself
To the wave after wave of nothingness
Riot after riot of unanswerable questions
With or without the headphones
Also with or without
Any prior contemplative knowledge
It is after all why I came here
To feel the ache of lost love
To feel the pain of lost love
To wallow
In the decrepitness of such loss
In the very middle
Of the darkest of the darkness of night
Friday, 6 December 2019
Restrained
The telephone says no
To the dialled number zero
Which, for me
Cuts out all of the folk that I know
Not that I truly know all that many
No point though
In feeling sorry for myself
Although, to be honest
It is something I do do rather well
You see even now it is raining
It is quite likely
To rain all day long
Which may make it tricky
To take photographs
Or to walk beside the river
No point though
At this moment in time
In kicking up a fuss
Which, to be perfectly honest
I am not quite so so good at
To the dialled number zero
Which, for me
Cuts out all of the folk that I know
Not that I truly know all that many
No point though
In feeling sorry for myself
Although, to be honest
It is something I do do rather well
You see even now it is raining
It is quite likely
To rain all day long
Which may make it tricky
To take photographs
Or to walk beside the river
No point though
At this moment in time
In kicking up a fuss
Which, to be perfectly honest
I am not quite so so good at
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