A CHANGE OF PROGRAM

Tanks to the left, to the right;
one homes in on a bunker,
enemy fire in sight;
Bunker blown to smithereens,
(Nice one, marines!);
Feet up on the sofa, with
a cup of tea - watching
live TV; taste of victory in
the mouth, no sense of death
or truth, or lost youth;
Makes a change from Corrie,
chat shows, endless sports
narration - watching
real live action, even beats
Space Station;
Never knew The News could
grip like this (need a pee, but
afraid to miss a thing) - good
to see the fighting, shame
about people dying;
The stuff of Hollywood here;
A pretty girl rescued, (well
worth the price, good to hear
'em cheer our politicians,
all eyes on elections);
No army of occupation, only
liberation, some satisfaction
in revenge for September 11
and…still looking for weapons
of mass destruction


R. N. TABER
(April 16th 2003)

DREAMS

Mystic dreamers walk in Xanadu

and ghost down sacred rivers.

Dreams colour Jeannie’s hair.

Hard-nosed interpreters turn Christmas snow

into melodic millions,

while a black man’s regal vision splinters southern segregation.

My dreams are useless.

I’m late for work - how can I be - I’ve been retired for years

I’m in the sweat of failure for exams I know I passed.

Father Cain’s done something vile

The near side tyre’s gone flat

The parish priest’s a paedophile

Someone’s run over the cat

I never get to see where bluebirds fly, or lemon drops or chimney tops.

Starbursts of aspiration pass me by.

My dreams are useless.

  (By the way - if you haven't yet read any of Bill's stories

don't miss the opportunity now!  Return to My Home Page for the links to his stories - and others.)

by Gordon Thompson

BEYOND THE LIMITS

Beyond the limits of our comprehension

what shapes the destiny of man?

Unsure of how it all began

we stumble on as best we can

hand in hand with apprehension.

Questions lead to further queries

no answers seem complete

We wrap ourselves from head to feet

in careless comforting conceit

concocting plausible new theories.

And yet, may come a judgement day -

it's a reasonable conjecture -

that for cheating Mother Nature

there'll be more that just a lecture -

an apocalyptic price to pay.

Thanks to John Francis Missett

THE WANDERING SOUL

Being good I entered into an undefiled body marked for The Christ.

Created in Holy Wedlock by the sexes union.

Had I been evil in a previous life? What then?

I prayed and Wisdom was granted me.

Along with the knowledge that the brighter I shone?

The sooner The Wicked would gather against me.

The sooner I would be gone.

Another from Gordon Thompson

BEGINNING

Silence screamed across the spaceless void

unheard

unless by God?

No light filtered through this darkness

no shadow stole the light

Nothing was all

Nothing waiting in endless timelessness

to hear the Word

of changing changelessness

Was God there?  The All in nothing

or here? if you prefer

beyond the limits of our comprehension

holding this nothingness in his outstretched hand.