Your love will never walk away

When my faith falters and doubts creep in

When I lose my way and give in to sin

You do not leave me, You walk me through

You stay faithful, You stay true

Your love will never walk away

Your faithfulness is here to stay

Your grace and mercy humble me

Your unfailing love has set me free

When mountains move, when hills disappear

Your faithful love still draws us near

You rebuild our battered hearts

With precious jewels and set us apart

I'm looking up, I'm counting stars

Your promises are holding fast

I'm taking courage from your hand

And stepping in to the promised land

When mountains move, when hills disappear

Your faithful love still draws us near

You rebuild our battered hearts

With precious jewels and set us apart

Free from shame, disgrace and fear

No enemy can prosper here

Steadfast in love, so pure and true

I stand in praise and awe of You.

When mountains move, when hills disappear

Your faithful love still draws us near

You rebuild our battered hearts

With precious jewels and set us apart

Isaiah 54

***

This is a poem I wrote almost exactly a year ago but God reminded me of the truth of it this week. He is an awesome, redeemer God!

Ourstory by Carole Satyamurti

I've seen this on the underground a few times now and I just love it...

Ourstory by Carole Satyamurti

Let us now praise women
with feet glass slippers wouldn’t fit;

not the patient, nor even the embittered
ones who kept their place,

but awkward women, tenacious with truth,
whose elbows disposed of the impossible;

who split seams, who wouldn’t wait,
take no, take sedatives;

who sang their own numbers, went uninsured,
Knew best what they were missing.

Our misfit foremothers are joining forces
underground, their dusts mingling

breast-bone with scapula, forehead
with forehead. Their steady mass

bursts locks; lends a springing foot
to our vaulting into enormous rooms.

From Stitching the Dark: New and Selected Poems published by Bloodaxe (2005)

Who's the King of the Castle?

He sits, stewing on his armchair throne,
drinking his whiskey, in the house alone -
the King in his castle's been overthrown
in a battle of clashing beliefs.

Challenged by his son who has changed his team,
suggesting that all they believe is not as it seems -
For his family, his kingdom, what does all of this mean,
when their loyalties now lie divided?

Who among them has faith, and who does religion?
Is it living and breathing or outdated tradition?
Are the foundations solid that they have their hopes pinned on?
Or will their worlds come crashing down?

***

We have been talking alot about bad poetry in my playwriting class this term and it was suggested that we all try to write a bad poem about our play. The above is my attempt at the exercise.