19

12 or so, I think I would have been.
My older brother gave me a book:
St.Dominic - This Is Your Life, or
a title of that sort.
It wasn't a big red book. It was slim,
dignified, grey, new, smelled nice.
I only had the odd book back then,
rarely new, never slim.
St. Dominic died when he was nineteen.
The details escape me, but I remember
the number and couldn't see beyond it.

Tomorrow I will have beaten Dominic,
and my self-forecast by forty years.
Another no-no for religion then, not
that another no is needed by now.

The serious question though is why
Belief, Superstition, whatever you may
are stronger than cast-iron galvanized Fact.
Not all the time, of course, but in
kitchens, bedrooms, gardens, building-sites,
factories, and assorted such places.

Put another log on that fire, George.
Enough feckin' facts for tonight.
Who's got a song or a story, for Chris' sake,
get that dog away from the door.

Lucretius said

the Sun is the same size
as we see it.
I'm not sure about that.

He says Death can be feared
if you look into a future without you,
but if you look back into the past,
way back before you that is,
then you are not there either.
And that feels, maybe, a bit O.K.?

I must remember to remember,
Lucretius that is, or was,
a good guy to have around.
Not sure about the Sun though,
or was it the Moon?

That Death bit is good though.
I can live with that...

first draft - belief 2007

You can trust me*
You know you can - don't you
Don't you believe me?
How can you look at me
and say you don't believe me?
After all this time?
I trust you.
I'd lay down my life for you.
I'd do anything for you.
I love you.
I'm your father, mother,
sister, brother.
[use capitals for that lot]
I'm here for you baby,
my man,
[look at gender stats on this one,
don't want to miss a beat]
you KNOW that, for real.

* me is a lying hound.
I'm just being devil's advocate.

faith
belief
hope
knowledge
certainty
proof
[not sure about that one]
charity
mystery
love

but the greatest of these is...

why swim deep
climb high
surf on the breeze
go the extra mile
exceed expectations
earn more than you can spend
[potential corporates?]
buckle the bomb belt
[check]
on your knees and bow

knowledge is flat earth
faith soars into the unknown
knowledge is an apple on your head
faith is a safe landing, without wheels

believe me

I* know

* me is a lying hound.
I'm just being devil's advocate.

You know I'm right.
Right is Right
Fight the Good Fight, Fight, Fight.
I had a dream
You and me
Eternity

[loop tape - tea break]

* ignore - personal diary only,
though keep cutting edge -
that's what they believe in.

Maybe they're right.
Shit, maybe I'm right.

* need to re-assess

apple picking

Grey lichen-covered apple tree branches.
Chest-high stinging nettles test trouser legs.
At least I remembered some old trainers.
A couple of old plastic crates, ladder,
two long-reach pickers with the orchard's name,
and off we went.

What a beautiful morning, I envy
the warden his snug environmental
shelf-lined house - he lives here among
badgers, butterflies, wasps and look straight up
a buzzard hovering high in the sky.

No sprays on these apples - unlike those Kurds.
Joe plonked his ladder under the branches,
well, from far off the apples had looked nice.
Unlike Saddam, or his prisoners, Joe
climbed down, strode off to try somewhere else.

We walked round the huge pond. No bodies floating.
Two woodpeckers rattled out, so Joe said.
He pointed, but it was into the sun.

We were lucky ones, with a picker each.
That mother and little boy over there,
he jumping to reach some little fruit.
So Joe gave them his picker and ladder
- with a 'well, you use the picker like this'.
You can bet it's not like that in Dafur.

After a look at some wild flowers, rabbits,
and lottery-funded hide for badgers,
someone called it was time for coffee,
so we joined the little band by the cars,
a large pot of tea, milk in a jug,
mixed Fox's biscuits out of the packet.

We'd only picked two boxes of apples,
Michael said the Bramleys were good.
Joan and Lily made back for the pears,
and there was a Red Admiral by the wall.

As we packed up, Joe said Lewis Hamilton
had grown up nearby. We were quite surprised
we both followed Formula One racing.
That's another Sunday morning ticked off.
Nothing much there to write home about.