For Karen

You with your hands

held high in the air

Blank stare on your face

Your words said with flair

Still, we both pray for Karen.

You with your bells

and your smells in the air

With robes and peak caps

And ceremonial fare

Still, we both pray for Karen.

You with your book

and your words fill the air

Nods all around

Words just and fair

Still, we both pray for Karen.

Me with my morning

and evening, night air

Hands closed to my head

Soul emptied of cares

Lying still, we all pray for Karen.

Them with their sun

and full moon on the rise

Empty words in the air

Suspicions of lies

Still, we all care for Karen.

Hear

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Here I am saying these words to you in case I die soon

Here I am saying these words to you
Here I am saying
Here I am
Hear
I Am
Here I am / not knowing / who / I would be / without him
Without him / I would be / who? / Not knowing, / am I here?

Room for Friends

It just occurred to me
When I resurrected
The dead talk topic
You said ok..
I have no clue
What to say.

We both know this –
All the days past
Are covered in grace.
But if you had
Something to say
I would hear you
To your face

I’ve only had a handful
Of friendships last for years
Few of these are true brothers
The handful are held
In an open hand
In case they wanted to leave.

But I’ll set about trying
To kick every elephant
Out of here.
Because there’s no more
Room for friends.

Wired for Sound

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Tuning in frequently

sound bites, snippets

pop up in low fi

filling my mind

through wireless ears

Static surrounds and drops down

Ringing and pinging hearts beating

Your gestures punctuated

by prayers and pleading

begging for what we’re needing

to hear

connecting dots

between points

numbered

pulling together

problems and silence

soaked deep in Word

sewn together into

a larger world view

illustrate illustrate

no mundane repartee

sacrifice secular stoics

devout pleasure in pain

tears restrain

buoyed by passion

de-liberation? wrong..

good people I’ve managed

to hold attention too long

 

 

Thanks to Mikey

Pneuma (Breath of Life)

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One simple breath inhaled heavy like dew, set gale force winds in tow

To re-arrange my sentiments, fix my eyes on an other-world abode

The birth was painful like the first, shot like a quivering arrow

Still as a statue outside my sandstone baptism,

this divided my flesh, bone and marrow

 

I returned to life just as it was, but touted a whole new agenda

My circle of friends were aghast at the change,

their replies were like silent surrender

Another life conquered in the spiritual realm, on the North Sydney Bible belt

From an altar to an unknown God – my sacrifice clearly felt

 
Alone among many friends, delivered to Byron Bay’s music fest

Swimming in mud, flowers in my hair, this would put her new faith to the test

We took along a son of a preacher, from the backwater of Mount Druitt ghetto

Jesus shirt, long hair, bare feet, and a heart for all folk, rock and metal.

 

Standing behind him in the communal space

of a crowded purple haze tent city

With multiple bands on multiple stages, belting out blues, dazed in self-pity

He asked them all as they passed us and stared,

had they heard about Jesus’ name?

My heart pounded then, my eyes opened again,

just as much as when Silverchair played

 

So we swam in the mud, we were wrestled to the ground,

not a single clean person around

We walked and we talked, we crowded and surfed,

swam the beaches and baked on the ground

Soaked in tea tree dams to tend to our complexions,

under darkened clouds it pelted down

In the midst of sheer joy my two worlds collided,

I saw that anywhere God could be found.

Wrestling for glory

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to wrestle…
Strive
Battle
Combat
Struggle
Contend
Grapple

The kind of gentle fellow who lends us all an ear
Who shares the clothes off his back and casts out all our fears

With but a word and warning, that nought can harm us here
When the power of the all mighty, is ours but to revere

As such, a simple gesture, to pluck off his collar in haste
Trading robes of white for white, a blackbelt round his waist

Just as Jacob endured long night, these duelling fellows and dames
Eternal glory for the fight, lest we forget His name

For the young Reverend..

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Grapplers for Christ