Their evensong; my pleasure for friend Thad
I sit outside the monastery
and pass an hour pleasantly
Listening to the brothers chant
I find their plain song elegant.
I wonder why, it puzzles me
Why do some men voluntarily
decide upon monastic life.
Are they afraid of worldly strife.
It seems to me that they retreat
from normal life; admit defeat.
I’m sure they see it differently
To me it is a mystery.
What can they possibly achieve.
This question really baffles me.
I must suppose that they believe.
It’s pleasing to their deity.
But I am not a Christian
I have my own philosophy.
More suited to a simple man.
Which is all I claim to be.
They have a choice they can decide
to worship God in their own way.
I am content to sit outside
I do not have the right to say.
What they should do or should not do.
My own motto is tolerance
that’s why I come to listen to
the plain song. which my ears entrance.
When night falls and all is still.
The final notes have died away.
I exercise my own free will
and rise to make my homeward way.
My God does not expect me to
stick to a rigid discipline.
The way the brothers have to do.
To pray or not the choice is mine.
14/07/2009
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Related quotes
Gramercy
Why should I live in agony?
my life a total misery.
Because you find you can’t agree.
to help me die with dignity.
Who gave you the right to choose?
whether to allow or to refuse.
To end a life of little use
I think it is gross abuse.
of your assumed authority.
To decide what is best for me,
you will not listen to my plea.
I choose death voluntarily.
I am no use to anyone.
I’m well aware my race is run
and I am anxious to be gone.
The choice is mine and mine alone.
And therefore should be left to me
But in your wisdom you decide.
I must live on in agony
You won’t assist my suicide.
01/05/2009
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Somebody's son.
A bloated corpse floats on the flood
But who he was nobody knows.
He was intent that no one should
Removed the labels from his clothes.
Made sure he carried no I.D
He had his reasons I suppose
to choose anonymity.
I must admit it baffles me.
He’s just another suicide
another tragic incident.
He’ll never be identified.
Unless perhaps by accident
He died voluntarily
and left behind a mystery.
Monday,29 March 2010
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Conforming
I cannot unilaterally,
decide to do what pleases me.
How very easy life would be
if that was satisfactory.
Although it makes me furious.
I must confer, debate discuss
until it is unanimous.
I find it rather curious.
It seems your free will is not free.
Although you think it ought to be.
In order to live peacefully
as part of our society.
We have to voluntarily
place limits on our liberty.
05/11/2009
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Public Servant
Public servant
I have no choice it must be done
before my only chance is gone.
I have him clearly in my sights
and I am well within my rights.
He is armed, prepared to kill.
I have no doubt at all he will.
He is a threat to everyone.
I have no choice it must be done.
Although I would rather not
I must squeeze off the fatal shot.
I chose to shoot him through the head
make certain sure that he is dead.
Before he can shoot anyone
The choice is mine and mine alone.
I kill the man reluctantly
but that is how it has to be
I swore to serve and to protect.
The public and they all expect.
Me to carry out my duty
As best I can efficiently.
The man is dead the threat is gone
And normal life can carry on.
Nobody spares a thought for me
They do not care apparently.
05/04/2009
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Dog watch
The night is cold and clear and still.
The village streets lie quietly.
A bitter wind adds to the chill.
At home is where I’d rather be.
I have no choice I have to go.
My dog insists I take him out.
He knows he is entitled to
his final evening run about.
Then he will settle for the night.
It matter not rain, hail or snow.
He is correct he has the right
to tell me that its time to go.
He knows the time I must suppose.
What puzzles me is how he knows.
Wednesday,23 December 2009.
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Beneath the surface 09
I choose my friends instinctively.
Signals received unconsciously
decide compatability
I am convinced accurately.
I trust my hunches completely
I find they work efficiently
and so I listen carefully
To what my guts are telling me
I understand obviously
I could be wrong quite possibly
It makes no difference to me.
It suits me to believe you see.
I do not have to make a choice
I leave that to my inner voice.
27-Jan-09
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Trespasser for M lady Chitra
Lost deep in thought my footsteps strayed
And brought me to a woodland glade.
Wherein there stood an altar stone
erected to some God unknown
Erected in pre history.
The stone will stand eternally
as evidence of worship here
of some forgotten deity..
The altar stone is still pristine
It’s surface completely free
of lichens which should have been
thriving on it visibly.
Perhaps the worshippers still meet
Creep through the woods on silent feet
to carry out their ancient rites.
Beneath the moon on summer nights
When new gods drive he old gods out.
I am convinced I have no doubt
There still remains a faithful few
who worship as they used to do.
Perchance they still worship here
That is the reason that the stone is clear.
Quite suddenly I feel oppressed
and I decide its for the best.
To take again my homeward way
hurriedly without delay.
I feel that I must leave this place
and quicken up my walking pace
I wonder still uneasily
did I offend some deity.
Albeit inadvertently
who might decide to punish me
Though years have passed I’m still afraid.
I trespassed in that woodland glade.
Although in fact by accident
perhaps I earned some punishment.
Perhaps I’m being paranoid.
I try my hardest to avoid
Walking woodland paths alone
they might lead to that altar stone.
10/10/2009
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Am I a Sinner or a Saint?
I will supply pure heroine
To all the hopheads on the street
And then the clean up will begin
I’ll rid the city of dead beats.
A drastic plan but effective.
The have free choice they need not use.
It is their choice to live or die.
I doubt that many will refuse.
Am I sinner or a saint?
to contemplate mass homicide
To rid the city of this taint.
It’s up to you, you must decide.
Am I murderer or not.
They choose to use what I supply
Some use a little some a lot.
Is it my fault if they all die.
I am the last man they’d expect
to even think of such a plan.
For after all who would suspect.
such tactics from a clergyman.
My plan proved to be a great success
The city streets are safer now.
I have some doubts I must confess.
But I feel justified some how.
I do believe in mans free will.
To choose to use or not use
A substance which will likely kill.
I don’t believe in drug abuse.
17/10/2009
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Her Own Choice
She could no longer cope alone.
Knew all too well that it was true
and there was something else she knew.
Her race was run, time to move on.
She did not wish to vegetate
in some well run establishment
Where lunch became the main event.
With no attempt to stimulate.
The workings of an agile mind,
trapped inside a useless shell.
A body which had served her well.
Before her health was undermined,
by ailments which progressively
destroyed all of her abilities.
The time had come to quit the game.
So she decided she would die
in her own bed in her own home
To be pain free would be welcome.
So she died voluntarily.
The cause of death no mystery.
She chose to exercise her right,
While she had the will to write
the finish to her life story.
22/04/2009
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Merciful Release?
Merciful Release.
The mist descended suddenly.
Totally unexpectedly.
I could not see to find my way
So I decided I should stay
Just where I was. It seemed to be.
The wisest choice
I’m not so certain that it was
I think perhaps that is because.
The clammy fog embraces me
And whispers to me quietly
You have no choice.
If I decide to let you go
I am quite certain you will know.
Not to brave the moors alone
These moors are mine all that I own
and I rejoice.
I have the power to heal or kill
I always had and always will.
These moors are worthy of respect
It is mission to protect.
It whispered sotto voice.
I will remember till I die.
There is no reason I should lie
The day the mist enveloped me
and whispered to me quietly
I hear that voice.
In nightmares to this very day.
Although it let me go my way.
I still retain the memory
Of the lesson taught to me.
The moors own voice.
Although it spoke so quietly
Is etched deep in my memory
I can’t forget although I try
And to this day I wonder why.
It made the choice
To set me free as suddenly
as the mist had captured me.
I don’t suppose I’ll ever know
Why it chose to let me go
I had no choice.
The moors have little time for fools
They can and will enforce their rules
I'm forced to take it seriously
Or pay the price
Tuesday,15 November 2011
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Establishing a new precedent.
Establishing a new precedent.
On Christmas day just after lunch.
Uncle Jim’s drunk most of the punch.
Grandmas been at the gin again
Her silly giggles make that plain.
Mothers too busy washing up
to see how much booze Dad can sup.
The kids have gone their separate ways
without a single word of praise
For the preparation
their mum has single handed done.
It is the same thing every year
Nobody sees that it’s not fair.
To leave it all to poor old mum
A little help would be welcome.
At least that how it used to be
But this year Mum has broken free.
She has decided she will stay
in an hotel for Christmas day
Where she will be waited on
.She left a not to say she’s gone.
But carefully does not say where
nor when she’s coming home again.
She decided to declare
and by her action make it plain.
That in the future she must be
treated very differently.
I am quite sure the family
will realise shamefacedly.
That mothers are entitled to
expect the family to assist
When there is so much work to do.
She knows how much she will be missed.
Although she goes reluctantly
She is quite sure she is correct
to try and show the family.
That in the future she’ll expect
every one to play their part
and offer their help willingly
It’s time to make a brand new start
and treat Mum more respectfully.
This Christmas will not be much fun.
Without their Mum to supervise
the preparations won’t get done
and they will have to improvise.
A lesson that’s intended to.
Change their selfish attitude
(A lesson which is over due)
and show a little gratitude.
For all the work that mother does
But this year will be different
Without their Mum to make a fuss
Their Christmas day a non event.
Because their mum decided they.
Did not appreciate that she
deserved a restful Christmas Day
the way a Christmas day should be
Perhaps next year they would decide
they should dine out on Christmas day.
To make quite sure Mum was satisfied
and could enjoy her restful day.
Now Mum has registered her protest.
Much to the family’s surprise.
They will decide it’s for the best
and be prepared to compromise.
Monday,21 December 2009.
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Maybe!
Maybe.
Perhaps our dreams are prophecies,
in which we see what is to be.
Though we don’t take them seriously
and disregard them completely.
It may be sad but it is true
There are a few a very few.
Who do believe and they achieve.
A great deal more than most can do.
Because they’re willing to pursue
their dream until they make it true.
This simple truth I share with you.
If you are willing to accept
the plans your sleeping mind projects
If you believe you can achieve.
Whatever goal you’re aiming for.
Things that you have not done before.
Dreamers can accomplish more
Because they’re willing to explore
the different possibilities.
Within their capabilities
They can achieve all they conceive.
I don’t expect you to agree
that every dream’s a prophecy.
But to consider carefully.
It’s possible that they might be.
You have free choice it’s up to you
to believe what you want to.
I’ve no intention to deceive.
I only want to share with you.
What I believe to be quite true.
You can do all you want to do.
That you can be successful too.
And make your dreams reality
instead of being fantasy.
All you need is to believe.
Tuesday,10 August 2010
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Out of your rut! !
Sometimes a change of circumstance
which seems to be a tragedy.
Turns out to be a second chance
to take you where you ought to be.
Your firm decides it must downsize,
your job amongst the first to go.
Although you’re taken by surprise.
You know you set your sights too low
You have no choice but to review
the reasons that you chose to stay
In a job which offered you
nothing but boredom day by day.
Redundancy may prove to be
to your advantage in the end.
You must examine thoroughly
the options which you have my friend
Accept responsibility
Decide just what you want to do
and then go on triumphantly
You can make all your dreams come true.
14/05/2009
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I Rebel
The Norns who weave the tapestry
which rules the fate of mortal men.
Can make mistakes apparently
and some time have to think again.
Though each one blames the other two
and none will admit to their mistake
They have to weave the threads anew.
A lengthy process which can take
almost the life span of a man.
But even Norns are governed by.
The need to heed the master plan,
they have no choice the rules apply
A single thread that’s out of place
can alter mankind’s history.
So they comply with little grace.
What is to be must come to be.
Has man no choice but play the part?
They’ve woven in their tapestry
His path through life right from the start
is fore ordained: no man is free.
The three weird sisters can foresee
future events and bind them fast,
As pictures in their tapestry.
No mortal man can overcast.
The lasting spell the sisters weave.
Although he thinks his will is free.
It matters not what we believe
and therein lies the mystery.
If we believe that this is true.
We are but puppets on a string
and there is little we can do.
To change the slightest little thing.
But I rebel I don’t believe
and make my way as best I can
Accomplish what I can achieve
I am no puppet I’m a man.
22-Sep-08
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Politically incorrect, so what for M'lady Ernestine
When interviewing candidates
Because you’re trying to be fair.
You sometimes over compensate.
Although completely unaware.
You are discriminating for.
What you’re against instinctively.
Your methods have proved right before
You aren’t obliged to be P.C.
That you should feel you ought to be
completely free of all bias
To me is sheer stupidity.
Just pause a while and it will pass.
The candidates well qualified
So let your prejudice decide
Do as you’ve always done before
and choose the furthest from the door.
What does it matter how you choose.
It is entirely up to you
how you conduct your interviews.
You can do what you want to do.
Your methods may not be PC.
But they have stood the test of time.
By choosing almost randomly
You are not guilty of a crime.
That you are prejudiced is true
A simple fact you can’t deny.
But by selecting as you do
You’ll get it right quite possibly.
31/10/2009
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Game, set and Match for friend Thad
Without a word I had to yield
to powers greater than I wield.
Without a word I quit the field.
The lady had enraptured me
I could not fight a Force Majeure.
Without a word she captured me.
What choice had I a simple man
but to surrender gracefully.
The power held by a woman.
Is such that no man can resist
because he’s overtaken by
confusion once he has been kissed.
The predator becomes the prey.
The role reversal is complete,
the woman has the final say.
I know men think they chose their mate.
Although the opposite applies
when they give up their single state.
Ladies are content to allow
the man to think it was his choice.
Ladies do not need to think: They know
how fragile is the male ego
.Encourage him in his belief
it was his choice. Though it’s not so.
She wastes no time on argument.
She knows hers is the victory.
Her plan has worked, she rests content.
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House Hunting for M lady Ann Beard
Some houses seem to welcome you.
You feel at ease immediately.
It is if the walls recall
What happened here and store it all.
The triumphs and the tragedies
Firm memories of past events
Have been recorded faithfully
Each and every incident.
If you are at all sensitive
You tune into the ambience,
the positive and negative.
Impinge somehow so you can sense.
That something dreadful happened here
It may be faint it may be strong
but it affects the atmosphere.
You know at once this house is wrong
You’re certain that it will not do.
You have no doubt, no doubt at all
You know the house is telling you
it has no choice it must recall
All the unpleasant memories
which it has stored so faithfully.
For decades perhaps centuries.
You choose to leave immediately.
The next house which you choose to view
affects you in a different way.
It seems prepared to welcome you.
You can decide without delay
It is not hard to make the choice
This is the house that you will buy
You listen to that house’s voice
because you know it cannot lie.
You go ahead complete the deal
prepare to move in right away
You are content because you feel
that everything has gone your way.
You know that it was meant to be
It’s all that you were looking for.
This house responds positively
You need not look at any more.
21/07/2009
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Who stands with me?
True poets write in meter.
Not because they think it’s neater
but because the flow is sweeter
When their words are read aloud
as they perform before the crowd.
Their poems pass the acid test.
Prose writers do not choose to rhyme.
They see it as a waste of time.
Although their word choice is sublime.
Without meter it is prose,
not poetry as they suppose.
Their definition I contest.
Poetic prose it’s plain to see.
Can not be classed as poetry.
I can accept you disagree.
I know I have a biased view
I think I am entitled to
Decide which one I like the best.
I choose meter every time
Preferably with lines that rhyme.
I find such poetry sublime.
Though I enjoy well written prose.
Each to his own I must suppose
So write the way that suits you best.
I am old fashioned I admit
and not one whit ashamed of it.
I do not find rules inhibit.
Free expression of my views
They merely mean I have to choose
the words that will express them best
Free form, free verse, poetic prose.
Are methods other writers chose
as being fit for their purpose.
To rebel against fixed form.
Which was regarded as the norm.
Just to be different from the rest.
But fashions change and now free form
Must be regarded as the norm.
I see no reason to conform.
I choose to write my poetry
In the old way that pleases me.
A lonely voice raised in protest.
The wheel of fate will slowly turn
Metered poetry will return
and well deserved plaudits earn.
I hope I live to see the day.
when classic poets can display.
That fixed forms can outshine the rest.
Monday,06 December 2010
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My Question for M lady Fay
There is a question I must pose
In the vain hope that someone knows
Who’s willing to enlighten me.
Before my birth where would I be
This question always puzzles me
and when I die where do I go.
I have asked priests who hesitate
to answer me, they vacillate.
Because in truth they do not know.
They quote their Holy Book to me
But I have looked and cannot see.
The answer that I seek to find.
Why is it that they pretend to know
from whence I came and where I go.
And yet they will not answer me.
My question is a simple one
I make it clear to everyone.
But no one seems to understand.
The truth is what I seek to know
From whence I came where do I go.
Will somebody please answer me.
20-Nov-08
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Wondering for M 'lady Tara
.
Today I saw a winsome Nun.
A negative in black and white.
I wondered if she had begun
to question if her choice was right.
And was she really positive
a life of prayer would satisfy
When she had so much more to give,
given the opportunity
Had her choice been freely made?
Or was she merely dutiful?
Had she been promised as a child?
It’s not at all unusual
to be denied the right to choose.
A subtle form of child abuse.
19-May-08
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