Winter Solstice

July2017

On the darkest day they come,

to witness the mystery

of the changing world they know;

cycled seasons and heavens

that play on them each new year.

 

They thank appropriate gods

for letting them live once more,

when plenty came and ask for

deliverance again through

the tougher cold months ahead.

 

All look to the sun rising

higher, brighter and longer

and the seasons turning green;

when they gather together,

in warmth, rejoicing; knowing.

 

 

Parched

Parched as I am I do not think
I’ll take a drink from you.
I’m not a fan of your saintly ways,
how the gays cause hurricanes,
in your eye,
that piercing optical orb,
able to see a written God
who happens to suit your convenient lie.

I’ll not shake your dirty hand
to rule a land I do not own.
I’ll take the huge and evil risk
to frisk and frolic in the grass
as I might,
with genders equal of each kind,
simple partnerships with a loving sign,
and work instead for what is right.

Parched as I am I do not think
I’ll take a drink with you in sight.

The same

We’re not the same
You and I
For I am nothing.

I will not grow a beard
Nor wear a cap upon my skull
Nor wrap my head except how I please
And, no doubt, as you can tell,
I will freeze until,
I eventually burn in hell.

I will not sink on bended knees
To the absent air
Nor sing songs in a wealthy house
While the poor go bare,
I will not pray for a better place
Yet sit and stare
At the human race.

You and I are not the same
As I will cease to exist
While your tidings will forever live,
Forever resist
The message
Of not to retaliate
But forgive.

I will not kill
In any name
For any reason cannot be right
There cannot be a fight
In any name
In mine nor His
For I cannot see the message there.

I’m not like you
For I will die
And no honour give
To my soul laid bare.

Bitter