“Daddy Was an Old Time PREACHER Man”

Been thinking about the word ‘PREACH’ today

How Madonna implored her Papa not to
Would have been a waste of time anyway
She’d already made up her mind

And Stevie Wonder beseeched the PREACHERS
To keep on PREACHIN’ to reach the higher ground

Drake said it six times – I don’t know why
PREACH PREACH PREACH – that’s three
PREACH PREACH PREACH – and that makes six
I guess he wanted to press the point home

And the only one who could ever reach Dusty
You guessed it, was the son of a PREACHER man
Yes he was, ooh yes he was, he was, he was
Yes I think we got the message Dusty

Aren’t we told to practise what we PREACH?
And aren’t we told not to be too PREACHY?

Hellfire PREACHERS do it with damnation
Missionary PREACHERS do it the world over
Evangelists do it disguised as door-to-door salesmen
Beware the black suits and shiny white teeth

AND HE CAME AND PREACHED PEACE TO YOU

It’s all very blah and contradictory
To PREACH, by implication, is to refuse debate?
I PREACH therefore I am right. Right?
Whether it’s from the Lord or from the heart
About global climate change or sport
Politics and ethics, pacifist or militarist

You gotta believe in your chosen message
Whether illogical or not it doesn’t much matter

To PREACH without being PREACHY
Well it’s nigh on impossible surely?

And the role of the poet in all of this?
To try and express what we feel not how to feel
Not as a PREACHER or as a leader
But as a reflection of us all
I believe John Lennon said that

Go tell it on the mountain folks
And don’t forget your kids.

with thanks to:
Madge
Stevie
Drake
Dusty
John
Dolly
Porter
& The Wilburn Brothers

 

 

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Dead Dove Sketch

‘Ello, I wish to complain about this dove of peace
what you ‘ave been selling for over half a century
from this very international alliance boutique.

Oh yes, the, uh, the United Nations Blue…
What’s,uh…What’s wrong with it?

I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, my good sir.
It’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it!

No, no, it’s uh,…it’s resting.
Remarkable bird, the U.N. Blue. Beautiful plumage!

All right then, if it’s restin’, I’ll wake it up! ~
‘Ello, Mister Secretary General!
I’ve got a lovely fresh war for you if you wake up…

There, it moved!

No, it didn’t, that was you hitting the cage!

I never, never did anything…

Exactly! Now look, mate,
I’ve definitely ‘ad enough of this.
That dove of peace is definitely deceased,
and you assured me that its total lack of movement
was due to it bein’ tired and shagged out
following a prolonged debate.

No, no…..No, it’s just stunned!

STUNNED?!?

Yeah! You stunned it, just as it was wakin’ up! 
United Nations Blues stun easily, sir.

No! That’s what I call a dead dove of peace!

Well, I’d better replace it, then.
Sorry squire, I’ve had a look ’round the back of the HQ,
and uh, we’re right out of doves of peace.

I see. I see, I get the picture.

(pause) I got a slug?

 

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with thanks to Monty Python and the artist Yücel Türkoğlu
for the inspiration.

Peace Puzzle

little pieces of peace
flung around the world like confetti
they fall in the most unlikely of places
and sometimes never fall at all
so what can we do to even the fall
to spread the little pieces more evenly
that my friends is the answer to find
the one and only solution

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/puzzled/

and to paraphrase Robert Louis Stevenson:

The world is so full of wonderful things
So why are we not all as happy as kings?

 

Love Bus

All aboard the famous love bus
There’s room for you and me
We’ll drive right to the end of time
To see what we can see

The driver is a friend of mine
His name is Mr Blue Jay Way
He’ll take us to the moon and back
So climb on board today

IMG_1036a

panacea

he carried with him a mirror ball
and within each of its tiny squares
a reflection of a different facet of his life appeared

the sun would shine and project on walls and
passing buses to the amusement of passengers
him as a child with blonde sun kissed hair

or the here and now in kaleidoscopic colours
the things he loved to watch and cherish
like birds flying with words on silent wings

with occasional glimpses into the future
silver grey with bent back and walking frame
the hand of a loved one held in his own

but this was no magic prediction machine
no seer of visions or healer of hidden ills
no, this was his heart and soul for all to see

laid bare and released without copyright
in a multitude of moving moments to spin
and sparkle and help set the people free

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/panacea/

Lover’s Key

Beyond the covered decking

Quartz white crystal sands

Sparkle in the Gulf sun –

A line of rainbow umbrellas

Shield the beach goers

With their wheeled cooler boxes –

Stand up paddle boarders

And selfie stick young women

Lounge in the shallows –

Cloud builds from the south

Mid 90’s heat dips to bearable

Miniscule flies bite my ankles –

Along the shore Bonita Springs

And in the distance Naples rises

Like a mini Manhattan on the sea –

A cooling breeze blows through

Tourists disgorge from the free bus

A family prepares to leave –

I don’t have to do anything

Maybe read or write or draw

Clean air filters my thoughts –

The seagulls make the most noise

Circling and squawking their calls

Ever watchful for opportunities –

 

Beyond all of this the pelicans dive

They fill their shopping bag bills

With lunch from the fresh fish counter.

IMG_20160812_135756

 

our place

we need to come a little closer
a little closer even still
understand what we are saying
the words    the meanings
the wherewithal.

we need to talk a little softer
whispers rather than shouts
understand our brothers and sisters
their cultures    beliefs
what makes them laugh out loud.

we need some more compassion
holding hands not dropping bombs
understand the fallout damage
in our minds    our hearts
our children’s wounds.

we need a new revolution
in a world that sets us free
understand our future evolution
peace    love    and unity
a lasting hope for you and me.

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(original artist unknown. From a display on Worthing pier May 2016, West Sussex, UK. Photograph by Colin Hill. I seem to have lost my thread of connections between posts and poems and lost myself in peace poetry. I guess the world needs some more of that right now. Where are all those 60’s poets when you need them most? Make love not war! Bread not bombs! Give peace a chance!)