Tomorrow (better read slowly)

the Wind has blown out,

the Tide ran away,

the Autumn faded in disarray, 

the Laughter fled the Sense of Sorrow,

it knew would come,

on this the, day, called,

Tomorrow,

hopes all a-smudged in the dust of time,

taken, lost, abandoned, bereft,

words alone now, the others all left,

no gunshot, no victory, no glorious death,

perhaps, just us and an obit for lady macbeth.

we’re stuffed in just a few weeks time,

we’ll close the doors,

we’ll walk away,

we needed money like a horse needs hay,

some will laugh and some will cry,

some will point as we walk by.

but if all thats left is This,

then we can say,

at least we tried to win the day,

we worked we toiled ,

boiling blood and sweat, 

and still we dream of better yet

and still we dream of better yet

Etches Penman

Sep 09

In Iserlohn

an Ancient German town

were hope wears a purple gown

and we dream of better yet.

Blew a Fuse

Blew a Fuse

A narrow path,                 A cliché,

Between tall rocks,            A bears tale,

the Mist of Aargorn?          A classic tall story,

on A road less travelled.     A 70’s psychology, 

Failure: Set a goal; did not achieve,

Let another; alas my own demise,

Rejection now, for failure of attention.

Navigation:

How can I give my ‘on’?

The tools for this, this, 

long road to run?

Success:

Another day, another hour,

Pick up this minute,

Hope to try again.

Etches Penman 

Oxford 

April 2008 

45 Minutes to Midnight

Etches emendments  

2020

Wandering Dust

Wandering,

Wondering,

Walking the earth,

Earth walking earth.

The dust of the earth,

Rose up and walked on dust,

Now the dust wanders wondering,

how dust came to wonder.

and why like dust,

man blows from,

place to place,

never at peace because he knows,

he is just wandering dust.

Life from dust to dust,

Life wandering the surface of the earth,

Wandering in wonder.

T. Poe 

Feb 2002

I like dust between my toes, sticking when they’ve been wet.

I think of dust storms so destructive yet powerful and amazing,

Dust storms are when men think they can do more than dust can do.

Politicians are oft dust storms, a blinding fog of flaky humanity swirling around.

And to Forgiveness

And to Forgiveness

That I might Forgive

Forgive the one I hate

The one I war against

Against myself

Self will

Will

Will I Am

I Am forgive what I Cannot

Cannot because I seek Perfection

Perfection only seen In Christ

In Christ

In Christ My Perfection

I shall be a reflection of tHis Perfection

But Perfection I will not be

Not Be yet

Yet I will be.

Thomas Poe

November 2000
Oxford

letting go begins

 

Now the letting go begins’

The new I must emerge,

The pain of birth surrounds me,

I am crushed and yet I still hope,

Can It rain? Oh Lord? Can it yet rain?

Shower mercy on this dry land of no tears,

From your cross comes the dew of heaven,

My prayer was answered then and now,

Still I will linger longer in this thou lands.

Now the letting go begins,

Thunder shakes the foundations of this temple,

A cry, clear and crisp and new,

A babe in Christ, reborn today,

29^th April 1999

Etches Penmen