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

Listening To Mahler [ A response in six movements]

LISTENING TO MAHLER

[A Response in Six Movements]

1

Have I lost the need

to weep

the power and the beauty

the freedom and the fire

tremble through my body.

The beauty – the beauty

the beauty and the power

tremble through my mind –

heavy with joy I want

to weep –

drunk with longing I need

the tears to weep

at the tragic and majestic

power – the power and the beauty.

Beauty, power, tragedy and fear –

and I can’t weep.

Have I lost

the power to weep –

the beauty, such beauty and

such power.

2

relax

a little

gently, slowly, rest –

now waiting, urging on the day

grasping

each nuance as it comes.

Slowly burning

through the air –

my song

resounding in the sea

gently, lyrically

and then

I start to skip-a-long, to dance,

dance arminarm around the earth

and then start dreaming.

Lushly sliding, skipping and prancing

struck dumb

for a moment

succumb again

to the power,

the tragic happiness of knowing

of being and living

enslaved

by the melodies of life

free and captive to her whims.

Free and beautifully gliding

living and alive.

3

moving, singing

dancing and laughing

cutting sharply

all springtime and in love.

In love and diving

deeper diving – driving lower

then exalted / and softly degraded

and next I’m snarling

at my fears.

And violently into the present time

I’m tossed, active being

to and fro-ing as the cancer

spreads

and bursts

into a shower of crystal.

My ears hesitate behind

my eyes – my mind is dreaming –

and I am sharing your pain

and your pleasure

living within you, viewing wider

horizons

sharing my body and mind

with you; with all

born out of the grass and trees –

as each new thought becomes

a world, and each new world

is me.

4

the words of two minds

and a thousand ears, become

those of one world.

Words of belief, of faith and trust –

songs of the children

unborn and dying,

accepting their deaths

with dignity

living their lives

with pleasure and ease.

Delights of the dream arouse

their desires – a sombre pleasure

a woeful joy. The need for love

as strong as I need tears –

weaving the largest into the smallest

weaving past greatness

into the hearts of children.

And this laborious mission

has a goal of joy – your eyes are smiling

now

and in their reflection

I see my life.

5

Gloriously the birth and mirth

of Christ, who lived a hero – died a man.

The innocent know far more understanding

than the callous heart –

their voices echo and thunder

from a mountain stream into

a waterfall.

Cutting through the hills and trees

carving the tree

into the shape of man –

until the wood takes its revenge.

And in the days of youth,

which is our life – there comes a reckoning

the tingle and the bitter fruit

of age

still

we rejoice.

6

Body and mind alone can never make

a man –

as we walk

through the valley

of tranquil thoughts, the beauty

pressures us

to face the truth –

each step discovering

the jungle and the pit, each life day

drinking from the streams

pausing a while and kneeling down

to praise the men who made

us what we are –

and God who we created

gave us life, as it floats sweetly from

the wounded side

of Christ.

Casting aside the altars, so every man

woman and child

may wear the ring of wedlock

in their soul.

Calmly I retrace my steps

and see my faults,

back to the garden – sit down

in the fioelds and sigh for the sun.

throw wide your arms and thighs,

embrace the living – forget the dead

who readily received their joys,

who gave us life and pleasure.

I need to weep no more – I sit

just sit and listen

listen to the open spaces.

Malcolm Evison

ConDem(natory) Cycle

ConDem(Natory) Cycle (Rough draft)

First we eliminate

all job security -

ensure

all contracts

can be terminated

on a whim.

Knowing

that work makes free

we guarantee

the long term unemployed

will do these jobs

unpaid

Malcolm Evison

Son et Lumiere

SON ET LUMIERE

the orchestration was
truly awesome
the acoustic reverberant

a dynamic sostenuto
from the bass section
held me in thrall

until
a random glimpse
of light

through an uncurtained window
played prelude to
a further atmospheric roar -

the sound immediately
responded
to the lightning flash


Malcolm Evison
24 September 2010

Old Comrades

Malcolm Evison reads his poem 'Old Comrades'