just another day

just another day

striving to ignore

the sundry aches and pains

the flesh is heir to

I sit and watch

the rains incessant flow –

birds flit

from shrubbery to feeders

wallow in puddle baths  -

I struggle

with a vague desire

to don a coat

wonder if I

dare venture out

to taste

the sodden air

                   Malcolm Evison

                           19 April 2012

BRIGHT

BRIGHT

blue sky

wisp streaked

with silver grey

the air is crisp -

the frost dressed lawn

crackles

beneath my feet

 

  Malcolm Evison

  14 January 2012

PROMISE

PROMISE

and nightfall brings
the promise of release
from daily toil

the neon skyline
shimmeringly bathes
the arena of desire

in technicolour majesty

Malcolm Evison 

a few nights ago - in the wee small hours - these lines emerged, shaped and reshaped themselves, as I lay in that hinterland between wakefulness and restlessness - I scribbled them down before trying to settle back to sleep and I've just rediscovered
the scribbled note

                                         

SHATTERED

SHATTERED

he rails exhaustedly

against

the unrelenting night -

shattered

by restlessness

he groans

a welcome

to a new daybreak

prays that it's not

an uninvited dream -

still rails against

the unrelenting night

then collapses

into sleep

          Malcolm Evison

          10 September 2011

3.00am message to myself

not quite reclaimed
and hopefully
not pre-ordained

I float
or rather limpingly
falter

into that 'outcast' realm
which was the youthful
privilege of choice



                    Malcolm Evison

Impromptu for Jack - A re-post for Fathers Day

IMPROMPTU FOR JACK

Not so much a moment

but all time,

the steady refrain

that “God is good”.

What is this thing called good?

Through all the pain

and all the joys

the theme remains –

a constant strain –

“I’ll praise my maker,

God is good”. No statements here,

a simple claim

from some deep tautological mine

“God is good”.

And now he’s home

with Him he served

the joy remains –

not for a moment

but for all time.

The universe proclaims

that God is good!

                         Malcolm Evison

                         June 2001

                     written for / about my father who died on my birthday in June 2001

spaces of the free

spaces of the free

enter the spaces of the free

like tied and structured

sheer fall of the well

break bonds of liberty

and set the foot rest

shackles free

from their deformity -

the first noel is my

last heaven

Christ strewn across the soot hills

of the sky

the merry chants

of fiery spirits

sing for him

a lullaby -

wrapped in the sealed ears

of the ploughed and ground down

beasts of dismay

wilting and cooling

in the sun drenched

frost parched

desert of the city

fearing the feeling

felt of former fun

and city streets full of sun-

flowers that sparkle

like daisies

in the cool thighs

of the girls

                                                                      Malcolm Evison
                                                                           (1967?)

Gethsemane & The Body Snatchers - Two More M.E. Related Poems

The text of these two poems can be found as follows:

Gethsemane              http://www.sinnaluvva.com/page10.html 
  
The Body Snatchers   http://webspace.webring.com/people/nl/luv4sinners/body.htm

Emerging & Restless Night - Two M.E. Related Poems

The texts of these two poems have been posted as follows:

Emerging                 http://malsfactory.blogspot.com/2011/01/emerging.html

Restless Night          http://malsfactory.blogspot.com/2011/02/restless-night.html

Poem to Secular Jesus - (the seminarian replies)

a poem written in response to 'Seminarian', an earlier poem of mine,  as a result of a request from Rev Dr John Vincent whilst I was spending a post-graduate year at the Urban Theology Unit in mid 1970's


Poem to Secular Jesus

Absurd redemption of humanity -

how can I write

or mouth a ritual creed

which brings to life

such crass stupidity.

This problemed world provides

no sanctuary. The Word

screams out for light; a sacrifice

of dreams and power -

a hapless Saviour snared

by well-intentioned tomes.

Bookloads of words

can never penetrate

reality -

the God-shaped question

yearns

for my reply. No theory

supplies the key

to one who shuns

inherited divinity.

No core of righteousness

resides within -

the journey outwards

is where truth begins.

Malcolm Evison





This work is licenced under a Creative Commons Licence

Restless Night

               Restless Night

frantic and static

collude

to break the spirit -

the chorussed scream

of roll and stretch

weaves counterpoint

against the searing ache

of stasis -

the chinese burn

of movement

resists

the planned escape

Malcolm Evison

30/01/11 – 01/02/11

EMERGING

EMERGING

and this morning

still abed  

my legs

are mercury laden

knitted lead

the arms

folded or stretched  

scream out

for postures new

Malcolm Evison

15/01/11