Portrait of a Uniform

The jacket is blue and buttoned
to the neck.
The collar is sharp and white:
triangles.
The stretched mouth is screaming,
a dark gaping maw
that sends the picture spiralling
into darkness.
Blurred pink hands grip the chair
like frozen meat.
Pale knuckles.
Black streaks the image, a rain-smeered
window,
eclipsing sightless eyes.
The yellow framing stands out.
Bright geometric shapes
lavish
regal
religous
formal.
Gold, like the genie's prison.

Target Range

Step right up and try your luck
aim for the biggest buck
are you a chicken (cluck cluck cluck)
Wheel the corpse out on a truck.
Think it's funny, think it's strange -
Welcome to the target range.

The pen is green, the pen is red,
I'll shoot an apple off your head
Stay still or you'll end up dead.
"Meet the targets." the boss said.
Think it's funny, think it's strange -
Welcome to the target range.

Think you can make learning fun?
The pen rests snuggly as a gun.
But when all is said and done
the target is a human one.
Think it's funny, think it's strange -
Welcome to the target range.

Don't loose the plot,
Repress the humanity you got.
No power to the have-nots
The target is a head shot.
Think it's funny, think it's strange -
Welcome to the target range.

Poem dedicated to
*The Dead Kennedeys
*Seamus Heaney
*Rage Against the Machine

Work

Struggling is complex
tangela-blue tentacles
curl around late hours
at the computer.
But failure is simple:
the figures don't add up.

There is either hollow
success or failure, but
we will always struggle.
(With what?)

Existing in circuitous
24 hour faith beginging
to hope makes us voluble.

I will not give up.
I will succeed...
Despite it all.

That Sunday Afternoon Feeling

When I glance at the clock
and my dinner's less appealling,
don't think that the meat is off -
It's That Sunday Afternoon Feeling.

When I clasp my hands in prayer
at the alter kneeling,
don't think I'm a pious man -
It's That Sunday Afternoon Feeling.

When you find me tie-round-neck
and swinging from the ceiling,
don't think I'm suicidal,
It's That Sunday Afternoon Feeling.

The Weekend is Dead

'Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.'

(W H Auden, 'Funeral Blues')

'Buildings crashing down to a cracking ground
Rivers turn to wood, ice melting to flood
Earth lies in death bed, clouds cry water dead
Tearing life away, here's the burning pay'

(Black Sabbath, 'Electric Funeral')

I.

The clock was stopped,
The Nokia ring tone cut.
I dressed in black;
My funeral work suit.
It was a day of black coffee,
umbrellas and awnings,
cigarettes and local radio:
It was Monday morning.

The End of the Holiday

I
Salavador Dali.
Tonto.
John McClane.

II.
Seven days that melt away
that is the half term holiday.
"I don't like it, colonel,
It's too quiet" - he'll
know the point of an arrow
in his back, just like tomorrow
when we return to the attack,
that whiteboard-and-chair shack,
that SCHOOL - and if not
tomorrow, then tomorrow's tomorrow -
the endless sorrow
of knowing that your time is up ...

III.
Time is a syrup of melting clocks
feeling like a sleep-locked dream,
Struggling against the conveyor stream
of fate, legs like rocks.

You wait for your line,
"I don't like it, it's too quiet"
the arrow is tomorrow:
stabbed in the back by time.

You know where the bomb is,
You know when it will detonate,
But you know you cannot deactiate
it by logical rules of time and space.

Time will march forward.
Monday morning will explode in your face
when that alarm goes off; this is
the worker's reward.

Ballad of a February Morning

Darkness out there.
Warmth and safety in here.
The rude alarm clock
says it all.

The shower is cold.
I look old in the mirror.
Life is worth facing
after a warm shower.

Breakfast is a chore.
Wishing it was more fried
than the cereal-ity
of Branflakes and milk.

No time for a whole mug of tea.

Grave injustice at 7.00pm.
Jamming a toothbrush in my face,
tie, jacket, shoes
and out the door.

Making it to the car
a 20 minute drive and a chance
to become human. Don't think,
just focus on the pedals,

hand break, speed, steering wheel,
coutnry roads (take me home!)
join the matrix masses,
exist until 5pm

or the next cup of coffee.

Break time

The staff room is a dug out.
Only the strong survive
in this hard-working madness.

Newbies sit shaking in a corner,
eating lunch at the computer
getting crumbs in the keyboard.

Working too hard.

Seasoned professionals drink coffee
before the sound of the bell:
the big push.

I look into the eyes of my collegues
and see my hollow self reflected there.
It can't be hate? Can it?

The waiting is the worst part.

Wake Up Cliche - Joe's Blog

http://numbers1311407.blogspot.com/2011/02/writing.html

Hopefully we will see more posts from Glencross(see left, stretching before a bouncy castle session with the author). He is returning from China for a visit soon.

Hooray for writing blogs! As a blogger, he feels the pains that I feel. Let's see what happens ...

Misssisyphus: "musings, poetry and whatever ..."

Suprising what stalking your friends on FB can uncover! Quite simplely, I am in awe of Misssisyphus, the Manx nihilist. I dare not comment too much on anything about her for fear she will beat me up. I am very much Walter the Softie to her Dennis the Menace, but I think that everything she does is great. Think Thomas Hardy, punk, Russian authors, metal, the Beats, Henry Rollins, Amanda Palmer, Hunter S Thompson, Oscar Wilde ... Intense intensity.

Anyway, I'm glad I've found this cache of her writing - I've always been curious to read her work, ever since she told me about the stuff that she sumitted for creative writing seminars... It seemed only fair to share the wealth with the wider blogging community. If you like bleakness and rants, check it out! Although the layout does make the text a bit hard to read ... if you persist it's worth it!

No doubt if Misssisyphus gets wind of this, she will be reaching for the catapult and the rotten tomatoes.


'Siberia'

Cast out, we stagger alone through
the wilderness.
A vast Siberia of lost hopes and
new fears.
We encounter no-one, for this hell
is our own.


Read more here:
http://misssisyphus.wordpress.com/

God bless,

Walter

Travel Blog: Ra Fish working for YWAM

(Our prayer team. From left to right: Rebekah, Matt, Andrew, Libby, Pippa, yours truely, Rach)

This title may not make sense unless you know two things. One: Ra Fish is the pseudonym of Rachel Patterson, another of my university chums who is doing something exciting on the other side of the world. Two: YWAM stands for 'Youth With A Mission' - Rach says:

"[this] is basically a course which teaches you about God and encourages you to apply what you learn through outreach both locally to the base to on outreach trips to different countries. It is all about knowing God and making Him known."

So far so good. Now, the blog itself.

My first thought is to compare this to Merrett's blog: Christian in a strange land, etc. etc. BUT they are obviously very different. Whereas Simon's blog was full of his trademark wry wit and hilarious ramblings about NYC, Rach puts her own personal stamp on the travel blog genre in a different and delightful way.

Firstly, and this is classic Patterson, btw, she is a diligent and detailed writer - unlike Merrett, who would always start with something like "sorry I've not written in a while, but I contracted this disease from someone on the subway the other day ...". With Patterson at the keyboard, I doubt readers will not be kept out of the loop for lengthy periods.

Next, what is the blog about? Well, it's a hodge-podge of notes from lectures and accounts of Rachel's adventures in Oz. Although she compares her posts to "essays", they are certainly not dull! Apart from dropping SPIRITUAL TRUTH on yo' ('My sins have gone, I've been set free' - stories from Repentence and Forgiveness week), Ra's writing is peppered with honest accounts of day-to-day struggles (cash flow - praying about it, btw) and humour (I particularly like the story about getting bitten but an ant: just the sort of thing I'd do in that situation!)

There are also some outreach stories not-completely-unlike-Christian-Union-scenarios which I can empathise with and fondly reminisce about.

Find the blog here:
http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/Ra-fish/

Find out more about YWAM here:
http://www.ywam.org/

So, to conclude, a thoroughly readable, enjoyable and educational in the best sense, with nothing "fishy" about it ... ahahhahah lolololol

'Fin'

Persuit of Beauty: Olive Su at the Manchester Art Gallery

Another person to add to the list of my inspirations.

So I was on FB today and I discovered that one of my fabulously talented friends from uni has gallery space! Olive Su's Chinese paintings will be on display in the Manchester Art Gallery, in the 'Pursuit of Beauty' Gallery on from today (Sunday 6th Feb.)! If you're up North-way check it out! They are amazo!

Also try:
Su's Chinese Painting Gallery website:
http://www.chinesepaintinggallery.org.uk/artists.php

Olive's interview on the BBC:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/lancashire/hi/people_and_places/arts_and_culture/newsid_8721000/8721992.stm

I'm mega-excited! Go Olive!