Fanfare for the Common Crumpet

Trumpet the crumpet
it deserves fans and fanfares
like it or lump it
with marmite to comfort you, in your cares
from tarts through to strumpets
no one would dare
pilfer my crumpet
they're too good to share
If Iron Mike took my crumpet
Though I may lose my life there
I'd just have to thump it
If you're holding my crumpet
Son, you are going no where.

Trumpet the crumpet
Warburtons' best
till the butter runs down
my chin to my chest
and till  my tummy
silently swells under my vest
the golden crumpet of comfort
has got me, in handcuffs
and under arrest
I'm slave to the crumpet,
I'm at it's behest
I'll take the crumpets
And you keep the rest.

Kite

The diary is clear,
The desk is cluttered,
Before a word, is thought, written or uttered,
The screen is blank,
Before it could rise, the word sank,
Falling from skies,
Into a sink tank,
An unthink tank,

And whom should I thank?
The bank is bust,
But think, I must,
Before my thought-wheels rust
And creak, squeal, squeak,
Gone to ground,
Ground to a halt,
No dynamite image,
To blow open this poetry vault,

Listless and in the beginning,
The lazy, languid and indulgent sinning,
Patience scoured, worn and thinning,
Impotence conceived, it's sperm are swimming,
The baby dying, inertia winning,

Words, words, everywhere,
And not a thought to think,
And drowning in words,
All but submerged,
And my time is starting to sink,
To shrink,
Creation is closing,
Receding,
Conceding,
And dragging me over the brink,

Beyond this desk,
And through the glass,
The stillness of the Sabbath cries,
And beyond my garden,
Hardened I gaze into the skies,
And through vacant eyes,
From below the houses,
I see it rise,

In the net of it's silhouette, I am caught,
Its red tail forking my thought,
Its curving crook beak,
Has proven a hook,
And I am helpless to write,
But sit,
And look,

As I wrestled and writhed, chained to this chair,
All the while,
The kite,
Was wheeling out there,
Arcing and swooping, and soaring free
As I had intended, a poem to be,

Never gone but just out of sight,
No ties that bind,
To limit this kite
As free and as easy,
As my thoughts ought to be,
But eyes on a screen,
Are unable to see,

And now distracted, drawn taught, and taunted,
Its freedom of ease, in the breeze, leaves me haunted.

Mesmerised, I sighed,
And like sighs sink,
And breathing chests rise,
I resign myself,
And stare after the kite, into the skies,

"Oh well", I say, though there is no one to tell,
Recoiling  after a while into my shell,
"I'll never write a poem now".

Etmol and Machar (Backs to the future)

laugh at days to come

don't fear, don't fret
don't look back with longing
or regret
don't stand on the precipice
of what is yet
toes tipping
over the edge
don't endeavour to forget

that the ledge is crumbling

stumbling backwards
through the door
way of what's to be
anchored to what's come before
past is an anchor
sunk into the floor
past faithfulness speaks of more

tethered to the eternal core

not letting the rope go slack
not focussing on what you lack
not looking  up or down, just turn your back

 and abseil into the future

two arms, the brackets are set in place
etmol faces machar in an embrace
and in the middle is the time and space
for you to be
caught in the grip
of faith and grace
in communion, face to face

the future is locked and the past is the key
to all you are and are to be
His faithfulness from all eternity
brings us such security
holding onto his promise's purity

"Most blessèd, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, Thy great Name we praise"

we turn our backs to the future
and abseil into the future



              *********************


Etmol and machar are the Hebrew words for past and future. "The Hebrew language has a peculiarity when it comes to the looking back at the past and facing the future - it has the two concepts switched up entirely. The word for yesterday, אתמול (etmol) is connected to the concept of being opposite to, or facing something. We are facing and looking directly at the past, not the future. Equally, the word for tomorrow, מחר (machar) is connected to the concept of being behind or after. The future is behind our backs. We cannot see it. We have our back to the future, so to speak. "

*Quotation and inspiration for this poem taken from the blog found at ;

http://www.oneforisrael.org/blog/105-the-power-of-Passover

Like my photo

Five likes and steadily climbing
Usually I'll only get three
But no matter how far this thing goes
Only one like matters to me

Twelve likes in twenty minutes
Perhaps this is starting to spiral
Believe me, I know my limits
But to me twelve likes is, like, viral.

Only three more likes since two thirty
It seems to be slowing down
I must find a better way to be flirty
Than just hoping you'll be around.

Hoping you'll happen to see
Maybe flicking through on your phone, with your tea,
Hoping it will make you smile
When you come across a picture of me

Hoping that before you scroll down
Or click on that spurious link
You're watching your finger hovering over the thumb
beneath the dumb pic of me, with a wink

You liked that picture of a kitten
You liked that cheesy internet meme
So wont you click on the person that's smitten
Who is worth at least ten of them

Well, maybe just nine and a half
Okay, a seven or eight
Alright, a very decent six
Now click and stop making me wait

Now I've maxed out with like twenty six
And it's not even a profile pic
And you've gone and liked someone much younger than me
And I think I feel physically sick

You liked your friends post
Of a hunk who is stripped to the waist
A tanned hunk with a ripped torso
While I'm fat and more pasty of face

If you wont give me something to go on,
"What chance is there of us getting together,
If you wont like my pic quick, and so on,
I fear the answer is 'never'.

I checked out your profile a few times
I scrolled through your list of likes
Some two hundred and thirty seven
Including some dodgy web sites

You liked a million giraffes
And forgive me, I don't mean to scoff
You liked the Kings of Leon
AND You liked Ferris Beullers day off

So if you can be so dualistic
And have taste that's both good and bad
Can't you please just like one photo
Of someone who's closer in age to your dad

I want you to like my photo
I want you to like my face, you see
I want you to see past what I look like
I suppose I just want you to like me

You see, although I barely know you to speak to
I think you shine in all that you do.
You look simultaneously like home and adventure, to me
And I think that I simply...
Like you.

I think you're the bees knees, now, honey
I think you're sweeter than Jam
And I kind of get the feeling
For a taste, I'd give all that I am,

I'm sounding increasingly desperate,
So please save me from my misery,
I don't care if you don't like my photo
Just as long as you actually...
Like me.

Twenty six likes and no longer climbing
Usually I'll only get three
But no matter how well this one has gone
Only one like matters to me

Risen Rap

He is back from the dead
The one and only
Come back king
Just like he told me
The king came back
forever he'll hold me
first in my heart
I'll love him only
Jesus Christ,
So pure and so holy
risen from the prison
And I'm so glad he showed me

yeah. I'm so glad he showed me.

When it was all over
Back from the dead
down but not out
Remember what he said,
I'll be back
And that's what he did
The prince of life
The come back kid

The crowd goes silent
The king goes down
man starts to count
he's lost his crown
The devil is dancing
The new king in town
The man gets to 9
he starts to frown
The king springs up
And the devil goes down
Yeah the devil goes down,

Resurrection
Yeah, you heard me
Goodnight Satan
arrivederci,
sayonara sucker
Asta la vista
I'm praising my Jesus
All over Easter,
Cos this is a small taste
Of the feast ta
come
In  heaven

I'm talkin Jesus
The great I am
The lion of Judah
The risen lamb

Risen from the prison
And forever I'll praise him
Defeater of Sin
God saw fit to raise him

Justified
glorified
Lifted to
The fathers side

Name above
all other names
I'll praise Jesus
I'm not a shamed

Risen indeed for our vindication
The living hope for the dying nations
The author of salvation
Back from the grave, on a short vacation,


He took the sin
He took the pain
On the cross
scorned it's shame,
Rose from the dead
Back to life he came
Risen forever
Risen to reign
King forever in the hall of fame

He is back from the dead
The one and only
Come back king
Just like he told me
The king came back
And forever he'll hold me
The first in my heart
I'll love him only
Jesus Christ,
So pure and so holy
risen from the prison
An' I'm so glad he showed me

Yeah. I'm so glad he showed me.

Resurrection poem

This poem,
Is like a resurrection
Ideas dead
The page empty
No sign of life
And then
Almost from nowhere
The cursor moves
and breaks the curse
of stagnation,
And absence of inspiration ,

where once we had nothing,
we have something,
Life from death.

You want proof
well you're reading this
Aren't you?

Two Thieves

Two thieves hanging,
Either side of Christ,
In turn we hear them speaking,
Beside the sacrifice,

Thief One

Look at you, Jesus,
What do you think you've done
You just hang there, bleeding
You couldn't save anyone?

With nails through your hands,
How are you gonna help me
You couldn't even get yourself
Down from this tree

All your miracles and preaching
Where did it get ya?
Did it get you crucified with me?
Yeah, you betcha,

You had it all, man,
Loved by all the Land
What did I ever get,
Except what I took with my own hands?

You've blown it Jesus,
You've thrown it away
How you getting out of this
Let alone rise on the third day

If you really were the Saviour
If you gave a damn for me
You'd Save yourself, and us,
And get me down from this
Murder tree,

But you're nothing
Your cause as good as lost,
Your dead and going nowhere,
Nailed to this wooden Cross,

I wish I could believe you
But that crown upon your head
Makes you the King of fools
And your dream; as good as dead,

I may be hanging here, on this cross
Same as you, fool,
But at least I never thought
That I was born to rule,

Messiah, King of Jews?
Pull the other one,
You' re hated worse than me
Who do you think you are, Son?

Thief Two

Don't you fear God, man,
What, not even now?
When we've been justly caught
And we're strung up anyhow?

Can't you see the truth, man,
Cant you see it plain,
We deserve to die,
We deserve to have this pain,

You know what got us nailed?
You know what got us pinned?
You know we're a pair of sinners,
You know we've always sinned,

You've gotta hold your hands up,
To what they say we've done,
But looking at this crowd I'd say,
We're no worse than anyone,

But not this man,
He' shouldn't be here,
He has done no wrong,
I can see that now, so clear,

I can see in him, beneath the blood and cuts
I can hear his breath of life,
Beneath the jeers and tuts,
I can see, that he, in spite of everything
Holds himself with dignity, and innocence,
He really is a King,


And this man is,
As innocent as the day he was born,
Stretched out between us,
Cut up,
bruised,
Torn,

He is silent Like a sheep is silent,
Before being shorn,
Though I hang here dying,
I feel like I'm being born,

Jesus , Jesus, you hang here, the same as me,
There isn't much between us, hanging on a tree,
But as we wait here, Jesus, to meet eternity,
When you come into your kingdom,
Lord, remember me,


Jesus

This day I tell you
In paradise,
You'll be with me,
Because when you looked at me
You could really see

And it's the same for all people,
Who see me for who I really am,
Not a tragic joke,
But the sacrificial Lamb,

For all those who see,
Just what it is I give,
Well they don't see a joke,
They look on me and live,



Narrator


So ask yourself a question,
Is there something you may have missed?
And what kind of man
Loves like this?