Spontaneous Reflections (Original 2006 Edition)

Written in 2006 and occasionally revisited, finding, as I do, that I can plot a clear course in the development of thought and action, all of which, with a hint of irony, leads to better life.

This opening image is, as the artist-photographer Kylo describes, spontaneous, captured in an instant when one least expects to, and Kylo’s stunning art-photography can be found in Unsplash by which this image, and others within this piece, have been supplied.

Spontaneous Reflections[i]

PART I

I have the ground beneath me

and the sky as my roof;

the moon and the stars are

the lamp at night,

and the sun gets me light and warmth by day.

I have the knowledge that GOD exists

in the tissue and fibre of every moment of the day,

the warm sea on my face

and the wind through my hair.

The assurance that there is a plan,

the assurance that I have good friends

the assurance that, despite all contrary evidence,

surely there may be a mate one day too.

The freedom to write,

To think, to speak, to object, to agree;

The freedom to live.

The freedom of life itself, denied to millions,

Yet granted to me.

A life granted that has as its foundation stone

The sacrifice of my forebears,

My name-sakes,

My own blood.

A life built upon a precious childhood

of family unity – a unity enshrined in love,

wars, battles, squabbles, sibling rivalry – 

“you will submit!”

“No!”

“Stop hanging Mary from the loft.”

"It's only a stupid old doll!"

“Quick! Mum and Dad have just come round the corner!!”

Now three cherubs - all sweetness and light!

Good humour taught we three 

from cradle upwards ...

“Have you all been good?

Ah that’s good.”

Sheepish grins

as world war four

is quietly suspended

- till the next battle.

Service, hard work, acceptance of others,

A unity with compassion and mercy as its bedrock

- helping those who cannot help themselves;

a basket[ii] woven out of defeat

to the hands of those victorious,

And thereby intertwining vanquished and victor alike

to a common goal, 

a common purpose too,

As proclaimed by someone far greater from those dark, now distant, days:

“to rid the world of brutal oppression, tyranny and fear.”[iii]

PART II[iv]

“You’ve got to be yourself,

But have you got the courage to be yourself?”

encourages Enrique in his stunning ballad.

A ballad that challenges,

dances provocatively

and sends a shiver of recognition

and understanding through my mind and soul.

PART III

When immorality takes a grip

life spirals downward,

out of control.

When immorality takes a grip …

GOD steps aback

never turning His back,

maintaining His gaze ...

so the ‘good’ proclaim.

PART IV[v]

Yet Romans proclaims irreversible decline.

We’ve made our decision!

We’ve cut ourselves off from GOD

that even if we desire to reverse,

He will have no truck with it.

Really?

Can this be true?

Is this the Three-fold Face?

Compassion?

Mercy?

Unconditional Love?

Is that what He has said?

I tend to a provocative view in question form

Could it be, generations successive,

political agendas to suit in centuries different,

that what they call The Word

has been rewritten?

Written again, misinterpreted

Written afresh, amended, rewritten

twice, thrice and five times more?

Or, with just plain deliberation,

twisted, skewered,

even truncated?!?

Worst of all, a literal acceptance

It’s written so it MUST be right!

If indeed He did say that

I desire Him no room in my life!

A Myth. Mythology to soothe, to control!

Like Game of Thrones …

Like Mein Kampf …

Like Das Kapital …

Like the little red book …

I no longer understand

a God Who proclaims

Mitgefühl, Barmherzigkeit, Versöhnung

compassion, mercy and reconcilation

with the Right Hand,

then sanctions - so THEY say - wanton destruction 

of entire peoples at His Will

with the Left Hand.

Ist diese bedingungslose Liebe?

Is this unconditional love?

This worries me,

questioning Him.

It seems not right at all,

Rebellious even.

Yet, even as I write

there is a peace, a Shalom

salām  سلام une Paix, una Paz,

Ein Frieden and uma Paz ...

Thus I know deep within,

in that Most Secret Place ...

... esse lugar mais secreto

... des geheimste Ort

... cet endroit le plus secret

... este lugar mas secreto

... هذا المكان الأكثر سرية

...hadha hu almakan al'akthar siriya

… that I have not crossed this Deity at all

I have understood Him

Him?

Who says? Men!

Her?

Who says? Women!

It?

Who says? Fence-sitters!

They?

Yes. I like that.

PART V

You cannot buy friendship,

Nor even popularity.

Friendship at a price always turns

when that turn is least expected,

fickleness stands

where duped friendship stood.

To buy is to sell your soul, 

becoming the great provider 

until your funds so low, 

then plunged into debt.

Empty promises to repay the loan

Interest-free is accepted with contempt;

in hindsight only

is promise’s value seen

for what it is worth.

A soft touch. I’ve got him around my little finger!

And down you go.

Where are your friends then?

“Oh I told you so!”

as they tutta-tut-tut

your descent into hell,

that horrifying mimicry

the ship’s final entry

now vertical,

plunging

breaking its back asunder.

Image Courtesy via Internet of a relief from the Picture by Philip Plisson of the sinking of the Ship Belem and to whom all rights are reserved

There is a friend though ...

he is five feet eight but looks six feet

The salt of the earth ...

the inner heart too.

PART VI

My people are a curious people

All mixed up in the head;

Playing with tin pot gods

And pursuing every stupid superstition;

Convinced of their persecution,

Convinced of their “righteousness”

Promiscuous to the point 

of taking one’s breath away,

with money at the core;

Booking airfares for last-minute hops

To Las Vegas on the whim,

Merely seeking to impress

But hollow-eyed, gaunt, Belsen-like

convinced of their beauty 

but putting Narcissus in the shade.

On every drug imaginable,

Every trip foreseeable,

Wreaking havoc in their own lives

And either callous or unaware

of the nuclear fallout around them.

My people thrive on money, 

beauty and property, 

on endless air kisses 

and declarations of “Daarling”;

That IKEA feeling,

If you’ve got it, I’ve got one better!

My people emasculate themselves

and lose their masculinity,

Or become masculine

And lose their femininity.

They come out under every green tree 

in the dead of night[vi]

Personifying the demons in the blackness 

beyond midnight. 

Darkness their companion 

where light is scorned

PART VII

But there are good ones,

Though few and far between, say many,

I say there are good ones,

And I know there are very many

And what is more 

such good people are too many to count

PART VIII

I wish I had someone in my life 

to make it worthwhile, 

to share, 

to work together on common goals. 

To be at one

To go places

To dream dreams

and work as one

to live out those dreams.

But here is the thing

Accept one's lot

and live life to the full

Not everyone is meant

to become a half of one whole

Rather, they sail alone

they have a way with them

that, without their realising,

warms others

They have a tendency to 

come alongside in nautical terms ...

to encourage, to smile, to help rebuild

and then move on

PART IX[vii]

Track Ten Gladiator

coincidental music 

to a huge tanker 

passing by!

Catching men’s gazes

knocked off my feet

at their interest.

A photographic session.

Is this really happening?

PART X[viii]

To run is to be free.

To fill the lungs with air 

and stretch the muscles, 

every limb, to the limits.

Run like a Leopard

Run

Be free.

To stride out, set the pace

find the rhythm 

and be in step 

with the Universe,

this Multiverse.

The bells,

they peel around the Liver

echoing across Crowne Plaza,

Holding the Ship’s approach 

as it turns about 

and lines up on Pier Head.

It is a sound peculiar to these shores,

a sound to be protected at all costs.

It is the nation’s heart beat;

Its identity.

A quiet statement of its stand on Christendom,

and the other great faiths,

a stand that demands 

compassion, mercy and unconditional love

– but easier said than done!

Not an epitaph 

to past glories,

but a statement 

on every fifth and seventh 

day of every week

that we are a Multifaith People,

by and large,

an Island People

independent, free, unbowed,

and undefeated.

It is a proclamation no less. 

A challenge to political correctness 

and all the ineptitude 

of benighted sad souls 

who have nought to do 

but twist human nature, 

making hell on earth, 

turning the world upside down;

whereby their warped beliefs 

become policies 

which in turn become laws 

enshrined by the mother of parliaments; 

and good becomes bad 

and bad becomes good 

Evil taking centre stage 

and a harmless touch of the hand 

becomes physical assault 

or even child abuse.

PART XI

Written in 2006, with this week’s events in Iraq and Iran, and what has happened in the years since I

composed this, it is hard to write Part XI,

for in my ears all I hear is a strident voice

“You would not listen, I told you so.”

With Israel at war with Hezbollah 

Lebanon torn asunder

and open talk of taking on 

Syria and Iran

to settle affairs once and for all,

the news today quietly proclaims

a slide towards a third world war.

Total War 2006

Pearson and Mason[ix]

Could it be they’ve got it right,

give or take a year or two,

more on target than we would

want to believe?

Part XII

It is harden even

now to write

For this fast becomes

the century of the dictator

Concentration Camps

return …

oh no! You’re mistaken

Places of rehabilitation

education, learning

Oh! You mean the

Thereisenstadt Experiment

rolling PR cameras

duping the world

happy joyous souls

dancing, happy, free

Thereisenstadt?

What is this please?

Look it up on the internet

last junction before extermination

Kenneth Thomas Webb
Liverpool

March 1, 2022
All Rights Reserved

United Kingdom - Austria - Germany - Australia - New Zealand - Canada - USA

© Kenneth Thomas Webb 2022

One of the Fifteen Founding Members of Leaders Lodge

Composed in 2006 and last published on March 1, 2021

Photo by Kylo on Unsplash

[i] By the Edward VII Monument awaiting the Mersey Ferry at Pier Head Saturday 10 June 2006 – 30 Celsius – the hottest day thus far!

[ii] The basket Grandma allowed an Italian POW to make for her even though she had only just lost her son over Germany – magnanimity – no vengeance – no bitterness

[iii] Winston Churchill upon throwing the gauntlet down to Hitler in 1940

[iv] On board the TSMV Royal Daffodil Mersey Ferry now in bound up river

[v] The Quarter, Liverpool 7.30pm

[vi] Bristol Common 1997

[vii] Pier Head, Liverpool 2.30am 15 July 2006

[viii] Albert Dock 5.30pm 16 July 2006

[ix] Simon Pearson and Air Vice Marshal Tony Mason. AVM Mason was President of my squadron when I took command in 1990 and we had many conversations. He was also an advisor to 10 Downing Street on international strategic affairs, and we frequently shared journeys, part way, when I commuted to Bristol, he travelling on to London. He wrote the foreword to Total War 2006.