Sermons And Gubbins

Today is National Poetry Day. For the past two years ( 2024 , 2023 ), I've collated a list of the poems written in the last 12 months, and so I've done the same again today! Some of these below have explicit language in - those are clearly noted below if you wish to avoid reading them. Happy reading, and please let me know if you have a favourite? A Conversation with the Boss at 5:26 on a Friday Afternoon  (EXPLICIT LANGUAGE) Out of the Window Time and Tide Haikus  (EXPLICIT LANGUAGE) Vigil The English Abroad Prayer (for Isaac and Miriam) Through the Music Half Life Burning Issues  (EXPLICIT LANGUAGE) Things I Have Regretted Happy Birthday to You Give me my Country back What ( crime) Would Jesus Do?

This poem was written for our church monthly poetry group. The theme was either ‘Jesus’ or ‘Crime’. For this one, I chose both I hope you enjoy reading it! What (crime) Would Jesus Do? Would Jesus rob an international bank  and give the money to the poor? Would Jesus chain himself to a tank,  if it meant that he could stop a war? Would Jesus steal a loaf of bread to feed a hungry child?  Would Jesus break into a testing lab to free animals into the wild?  Would Jesus smuggle Bibles  into states where they are banned? Would Jesus help families  flee from war to other lands?  Would Jesus help someone die to ease their suffering? Would Jesus protest human-rights abusers’ state-visits to the king? Would Jesus face a nazi and punch him squarely on the jaw? Would Jesus follow nations’ rules? Would Jesus break the law?

This poem was written for our church monthly poetry group. The theme was either ‘Jesus’ or ‘Crime’. This one was the latter… Hope you enjoy reading it! Give me my country back They'd like to have you think  It is a crime to speak your mind, To love your country, To wave a flag. "We can't say these things any more!", They say Whilst posting on Twitter and Facebook, And ranting on Talk Radio, And addressing thousands of people at rallies and demos; Televised and monetised for the whole world to hear. Thank God we have these every-men, These foreign-backed, violent, every-men, These stinking-rich, grifting, every-men, Standing up to defend Our Country  From the tyranny of the Liberal Elite,   With their shiny dog-whistles, their home-spun names, and their offshore bank accounts. Otherwise  We might not notice  If it became illegal for protest to be disruptive. We might not notice  If it became illegal to support those opposing genocide. We might not notic...

This poem was written for our monthly pub poetry night. The theme was 'age'.  Happy Birthday to You Age is just a number. Today is just a day. Life is simply protein strains, chemicals and DNA. A bucket is a bucket. A list is just some things. 'Happy Birthday' is just a song  that everybody sings. Loved ones are just people. A cake is just some food. The party lasts forever. And everything's All Good. Our lives are soon forgotten. The impression that we leave  is swift blown out like candles  People don't forever grieve. Heaven and earth will fly away, and all these things will pass. One day I'll believe all that I say;  until then, to you, I'll raise my glass.

This poem was written for our monthly church poetry group. The theme was 'Regret'. I hope you enjoy reading it! Things I have Regretted  The promises I've broken; The promises that were wrong; The times I should have spoken; The times I should have held my tongue. The follies of my youth; The reserve that comes with time; The times when I have told the truth  when a lie would have been more kind.  Foolish ways I spent my money; Trying too hard to be cool; The jokes I thought were funny  when really they were cruel. The times I should have had more grace; Times I should have taken stands; The times I tried hard to save face  when I should have held up my hands. The times I should have gone to bed; The times I should have not; The times the things that were in my head  were better I forgot. The window glass; the help not lent; That extra glass of wine; The words I said and that I meant; Believing I had time. The late night kiss that never was; The flight I ne...

I ended up writing two poems for the pub poetry group this month. This one was based on my own prompt - "put it on the back burner", as I had this, and the next line of the poem running around my head. Language warning in this one, but I hope you enjoy reading it anyway! Burning Issues  I cannot deal with this right now. You know how much is on my plate! I have fires left, right and centre. Yours will simply have to wait. So put it on the back burner  And we’ll burn the fucking house down. And then, maybe, some problems won't exist.      The damp, the plumbing, re-hanging the door,      Repainting the walls, and sanding the floor      And the mortgage - won’t be problems anymore I can at least cross those things off my list. Other things will take their place though. If I've burnt the fucking house down. And then some other problems will have to give;      I'll have new issues to sort, and they'll be tough;  ...

This poem was written for our monthly pub poetry group at the Barking Dog. The prompt for this poem was from Jo - "Don't live half a life". When I wrote it, it took itself in a slightly different direction! Half Life In the pub the other night,  Jeff told me that the half life of carbon is about 5730 years. They use that information in carbon dating,       he said. I never asked Jeff about carbon dating. I don't remember asking Jeff about anything at all,       to be honest. I think about 5730 years is how long it has been since Jeff last dated anyone.      Or anything. Carbon-based       or otherwise. I'm seeing Jeff again tonight.

This poem was created for our July church poetry group. The theme was 'music', and so I had the daft idea to write it as a rap... if you know my accent, you would know this isn't something necessarily in my wheel house! I hope you enjoy reading it though - if you catch me in person, you might actually be able to persuade me to read it out! Through the Music Mu sic is what I’m always thinking of. Music; they say it’s the food of love.     And love is God  from heav'n above: The  C omposer, the Song and the Holy Dove. Music is life, this is how we use it; God is creating me through the music. God is creating me through the music.     God is creating me through the music. Music.     It'll feed my soul,     So give me Rock and give me Roll.     Yeah gimme rhyme and give me rhythm;  Gimme a big bit o' bass go with 'em.     Gimme Jazz and give me Funk.     Mash me up Mozart and Punk. Give me synthesised ...