Oh,light bulb foreseen by our God
Save us all from darkness’ rod
You are our Saviour as foretold
In prophecy by ancients bold.
We will worship you at night
When sunken is the sun so bright.
We’ll watch TV and Kindle fire
No more to play shall we aspire.
We’ll wear ourselves out watching screens,
As from a can we eat baked beans
We’ll send for pizzas with our phones
With which we never feel alone.
We might talk to our partner dear
Though texting is much easier.
We see the neon street lights gleam
Where once we saw the moon’s cold beams
And in bed we read our books
With a kindle or a nook
We put beneath out pillows fair
I phones which we long to hear
Can one have too much new light?
From technology some take flight
For gone are seasons, and their fruit
As our computer we reboot.
New potatoes all year round
Avocados once quite rareN
ow are seem ‘most everywhere
.Melons,grapes and fresh green peas
As the birds sing,life’s a breeze.
Oh light bulbs,fluorescent tubes
Electric candle, light is cubed.
We thank you for extended days
Maybe we’ll find time for prayers.
God is great in mystery
No light bulb can help us see.
In silence,darkness, meditate
Wonder what will be our fate.
As retribution for our wrong
Satan stabs us with his prongs
He needs no more light in hell
The fiery furnace cooks as well!
Mary was trying to find an online shop where she had once bought a red winrer coat~
Instead. she landed on Amazon
Oh, there’s a nice frying pan,she thought.
She enlarged the screen and saw the words,Amazon Echo
That’s a strange name for a pan, she muttered
Then she realised it was a new fangled device which may be collecting messages& images for MI5
I wonder if my email has anything suspicious in it?
I have written to two people weekly then my sister and my six brothers
Are any of them under suspicion?
Soon,Mary realised that the Echo would not collect anythbg unless you had one installed in your home
I suppose it’s a bit like God.We can read about him,
go to church or pray but meeting him would be totally different
But Jesus hinted that if we fed the hungry or washed the feet of a beggar we were meeting God
In Knittingham all the beggars have shoes, she murmured
Maybe I could wash their hair?
God may be right here,but just as the blind can’t see colours we may lack some sense that would enable us to see God or even angels.
Annie knocked on the window.
Shall we have a cup of tea? Oh.I say, are you getting an Echo?
I don’t think I need one, unlike a shadow.I thought it was a frying pan
I recall you have burned two plus 7 milkpans
Don’t keep going on about it,Mary begged
Annie made some tea and Emile wandered in
Would you like tea,Emile?
Only if it’s green, he mioawed
I thought green was mould on food,Annie said
But tea is not food, is it? Emile cried
Only the milk and sugar,Annie mumbled
I’ve never seen green milk,Mary said nervously
There’s always a first time, the cat uttered in a manner resembling the Oracle
But can you even buy green milk?
They all sat quietly meditating until the door bell rang
Mary picked up the phone
Hello,I am your door bell
She put the phone down and told the others about this new kind of crime where non-human objects would try to persuade you to wash them or put oil into them.
I can’t believe it ,Annie said as she stared round the room wondering which gadget
might phone Mary next.
Her mobile rang,
Would you like to pay for your Funeral?
I’m not even dead yet, she replied.When I am I’ll call you.Do you do 3 for 2?
Do you think Trump might phone?
Yes, he needs money to pay his lawyers
Well.I am not going to give him any?
Yet Jesus mixed with sinners
They were thieves & whores…. just ordinary people, not like Trump
I wish you were a whore,said Emile
How horrible,said Mary, why did you say that?
Well,I long to see Jesus, Emile smiled to her
He will let you know the time,she informed him.Meanwhile just keep living the best life you can
And so say all of us
Did anyone believe blind rage expressed
Could benefit the agent without harm?
Did anyone read Freud and then digest?
Feelings need the heat of blacksmith’s fires
Held inside until they find their form
An image worthy of our right desire
As well as rage, we should mistrust love too
Be backward in expression till more’s known
Or risk an avalanche of cruelty.
Take care of others, they are not our fools
From sacred meetings all mankind has grown
We misuse folk to test our worth and tools
Holding in the inner fires our wish
The blackness of the heart can turn to gold
No contradiction hides such sacredness
Take your love and in your arms enfold.
The future of the world is growing cold
We liked to have the choice for rage and death
Until we found the charred remains of bliss
The future unpredictable as gas
Its fictions must be written by our hands
On tablets with the clarity of glass
Which crack like bones dried out on foreign sands
The prophets’ meanings , unnnamed, cannot pass
The sentences bind stories till they blend
The whispers and the excess of his blasts
Till all are crucified by loss of sense
The arches of the heavens will surpass
The golden eye ,the mind its telescope
Then all at once humanity is trash
The microcosm, a particle escaped
Will Evil change our hearts till blood is brass
The valves are closing, polished into death
As music went and silence overwhelmed
As in deep despair, I thought to end
When nothing seemed to help me on on my way
Perhaps I’d lost the track and so must pay
Empty now of thought and of desire
The vision of the darkness without fire
The utter loss of any help at all
From the depths, my heart cried out appalled
Expecting nothing, hoping even less
A fire of gold appeared to hold,caress
And tears rained down my face from eyes amazed
While in my flesh I felt caressed and saved
I bowed my head in assent to this good
The crucified, the lost, have understood