I am going to see Kathryn Williams this evening in Bristol and frankly I can't wait. Given the state of the country at the moment any respite from the posturing of the privileged Jackanapes masquerading as the crime minister is welcome. Whatever happened to honourable politicians?
Two poems this post with a religious slant. The first is a true story. I was walking to Stanza Extravaganza at the Artisan Gallery here in Torquay the other evening when I was stopped by two missionaries. I suspect they were new to the game as it was raining heavily at the time and there was little chance people would wish to discuss theology in such conditions.
When the rain arrived in heavy soaking
curtains
he
was stopped by a pair of bright young faces
who
burned with the missionary's
certainty.
Solemnly
they enquired if he believed in God,
if
he had received the grace of
religion.
He
thanked them and said he had.
As
a pantheist he could see God’s beauty everywhere
even
in the raindrops funnelling around them in the night.
Then
they asked about Jesus Christ
and
were told he needed no middleman.
This second poem has no clear cause and effect.
all
that cynicism slowly chipped away
and
him older scarred and weary
the
infinity of different versions
meant
that one would be a good fit
it
was inevitable his disbelief
would
transmute into faith
but
behind his back
they
smiled as he surrendered
The poem arrived pretty much as it is. All I had to do was swap some of the stanzas about and clean up the lines.
I have Rob Chapman to thank for this week's music. His excellent account of psychedelic music Psychedelia and Other Colours introduced me to the Geranium Pond. Only in the 60s!
Until next time.
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