thoughts out !oud

a Christian’s news, views, opinions and occasional poetry …

Poem: Touches in the dark hours

touches in the dark hours

what’s desired
the most
we deserve
the least –
that’s biblical, that is –

to be left
to hurt
is worse than being left to die –
or is it there being no hope
for atonement?
or redemption?
no soft touches
in the dark hours
when your spirit has no words
to speak
because they’re empty
and so there’s a guttural
yelp
a vacuumed cry for help
followed by the mind burst
that the worst
is yet to bear its teeth
expectation can be equally painful

trickery is at work
in these dark hours
thoughts jump over balcony railings
to fall
lazily
into foul language in a foul world
rushing upwards
with greetings of a sudden kind
so much for civilities

but we have no Superman
nor Spider-man
nor least of all good ol’ Captain America
just a man –
weeping
offering
the soft touches
that we need
in these dark hours
he’s been through them too

© 2007 mathew hamilton… Continue reading Poem: Touches in the dark hours

Poem: The wise man who taught carpentry

I wrote this about 10 years ago; I found it while clearing out junk from some old disks and re-living the ‘glory days’ of Uni life and study. This would have been written either when I was considering the merits of the Christian faith, or shortly after having accepted Jesus into my life. Thought I’d dust off the cobwebs and put it up here for you all.

THE WISE MAN WHO TAUGHT CARPENTRY

i sat with a wise man
at a feasting table,
and i knew that he was wise
because he turned to me and said,
life is like crunch-time before exams–
it pays to have begun early

so i questioned him,
i’ve received a’s for last minute study,
explain that,
and he said,
ah, you regretted you lack of study
and thought no more of what kept you… Continue reading Poem: The wise man who taught carpentry

Poem: The cross and its weight

By now, most of you would have realised that I’m not all that fond of rhyming poetry (unless it is written really, really well!) … here’s another of my earlier pieces.

THE CROSS AND ITS WEIGHT

sitting here
weeping,
it’s hard to see how
such an interceeding shadow
that cast doubt
and sent the world around it reeling
could have been so inviting

i used to love him
and her
and their little games and ways,
but they ignored me
as a kitten does a beetle,
they smilingly spat
and gave their words
with a tongue
bated
with more than breath,
for breath it was trying to take away,
and as I sit here,
still weeping,
clinging to idealistic illusions
and wanting them to be real
and comforting
and welcoming
when they’re not,
when they prance in the rising sun—
that never shines through—
around it,
galloping,
beckoning me to join,
but i somehow don’t
i want to,
but don’t,
only… Continue reading Poem: The cross and its weight

Poem: A cross to share

Inspired by a very succinct, short post from Duane’s Mind.

A cross to share

hope from death -
such a queer remedy
to a learned mind
of the kind
that yelled and cursed him
to the tree
and even the poor,
the decrepit and blind,
the thief and the proud
took delight in the cat
as it ripped and tore at his flesh

yes! i cried,
after all, what man is this
who can pierce my heart
with only a glancing look?

more! someone else continued,
and the next lash
grappled for purchase
across his back and side,
then flung away with a lick of the lips

it wasn’t until later -
regrettably, much later -
that the irons of 10 inches
drove home
a dark truth:

it was my sin
that drove the nails in,
fastening him there
with three swift strikes -
nine, in total -
but greater than that,
beyond our reckoning,
is that his love
for us
held… Continue reading Poem: A cross to share

Poem: Jesus on a skateboard

Something of a slightly different flavour today. Hope you enjoy.

Jesus on a skateboard

This morning
I saw Jesus on a skateboard
In the middle of a wave of bodies
Pouring out from the high, proud doors
At the front of the church
After Sunday worship

Perhaps they mistook him for Moses
For they (de)parted in a wide V
As soon as they saw him

Either way
They moved from him
As though he embodied something unholy -
Scarey and alien and unclean… Continue reading Poem: Jesus on a skateboard