Category Archives: Lyric

Gift of a gospel…

Stained glass window, dove and bible

*

‘I stand up next to a mountain
and I chop it down with the edge of my hand…’
– Voodoo Chile.

*

I. ‘WHO SCARED YOU?…’

I saw the snout first and thought it was a snake.

But snakes move swift and smooth and this fella was
cautious, shy even… timid as he nervously tested the air.

Jed who had been repeatedly twanging his ruler on the top of a bedside-
cabinet as he talked, paused mid sentence… and held the ruler… airborne.

‘Lizard!’ He whispered, somewhat redundantly, as the little fella
carefully zig-zagged out from the ceiling panel, his legs moving
akimbo like synchronised swastika’s, first one way then the next…

He was a beauty alright.

Perfectly white,
with bright-black,
marble eyes and a
delicately pin-pricked snout.

Just as I thought he was going to edge
all the way out and stay for awhile,
the fridge motor shuddered into life.

A whip-lash curl of his tail: he was gone.

*

lizard

*

II. ‘HOUSE BURNING DOWN…’

Road… and more road…

The ice we picked up at our last stop has long
since melted along with the thermometer which
we bought there too: its plastic base melding with
our metal dash. With a top temperature of only forty-
degrees celsius it was a pretty pointless purchase anyway.

I am beginning to understand why Jed was
so cautious about the decision to start out.

Some of his concerns come back to me.

‘There’s no air-conditioning in this thing you know.’

‘The mechanic reckons she’ll just about make it round.’

We pass a long stretch of salt devoured bush.

The bark of all the trees resembles baked clay.

Their heat gnawed limbs offer
stunted surrender to a barren sky.

… Road… and more road…

*

Stained glass, St Thomas

*

III. A BAPTISM OF FIRE

Joshua said, “Judas Thomas, while you are still
in the world, attend to the questions of your heart,
and it shall be revealed to you: who you are,
why you exist, and how you will come to be.”

“Who are you to say these things to me?” Said Judas Thomas.

Joshua said, “you do not know who I am from what I say to you?
Then you have disregarded the living one who is in your presence.

You are like a fruit picker who loves the fruit but hates the tree.

I am the light that is over all things,
I am all: from me all has come forth,
and to me all has reached.

Split a piece of wood…
I am there.
Lift up a block of stone…
I am there also.

I shall give you what no eye has
seen, what no ear has heard,
and what no hand has touched,
for the thing that I shall give you
has not arisen from the human heart.

I have thrown fire upon the world, and
look… I am watching it until it blazes.

Whoever is near me is near the fire.
Whoever is far from me is far from the kingdom.” …

– Excerpt from, ‘The Living One…’


The Living One : contemplations of the Gospel of Thomas, by Stuart France is available on Amazon in Paperback and for Kindle.

Seeing the Unseen…

 

*

“There is a distinction between images seen in the ‘memory of nature’,

and the vision of actual beings now existent in the inner world.

Just as one may close one’s eyes and see a vivid picture memory

in the mind’s eye, or, one may look and see actual images with the physical eyes.

When seeing these inner beings the physical eyes may be open or shut

but if open these beings are not seen with the physical eyes.

*

It is comparatively easy to see while at ancient monuments

because such places are naturally charged with psychical forces

and were for that reason made use of long ago and deemed sacred.

*

The inner beings fall into two classes; those which shine,

and those which are opalescent and appear lit from within.

It is very difficult to intelligbly describe either class of being.

*

The first time I saw the shining beings I was lying on a hillside.

I was listening to the music of the air and to what seemed to be the sound of bells

and was trying to understand the aerial clashing in which each gust of wind seemed to

break upon another with an ever changing, silvery sound.

Then the space before me grew luminous

and I saw one beautiful shining being after another.

*

The first opalescent being I saw, there was initially just a dazzle of light,

and then I realised that this light came from the heart

of a tall figure seemingly made of air.

Throughout the transparent body ran a radiant, electrical fire

of which the heart seemed central.

Around the head and through the waving luminous hair

which was blown about the body like living strands of gold,

there appeared flaming wings like auras.

Light seemed to stream outwards from all directions

and the effect of this vision left an extraordinary lightness, and ecstatic joy, of being.”

– A Seer Speaks

 

 

 

 

Ear-Wig II…

*

… “But let us suppose a stateman were to put his nation in the position

of having to pursue ‘grand politics’ though it were ill equipped to do so.”

*

“Or worse, suppose he forced his nation to politicise when it had otherwise

better things to do…”

*

“Would we call such a statesman great?”

*

“Undoubtedly, else he would not have been able to achieve such a feat.

He may have been mad to attempt it but perhaps all greatness starts out as madness.”

*

“I disagree, we might want to call him strong and mad but never great!”

*

Let the ignorant speculate –

When one nation becomes spiritually shallow,

another sets out for the deep…

Ear-Wig

*

“He understands about as much philosophy as a pheasant!”

*

“He is, then, an innocent.”

*

“But it is all one in this age of the masses.”

*

“They prostrate themselves before anything, well, massive.”

*

“And also in politics, where the statesman responsible

for constructing the biggest Babel is called great.”

*

“While we can rest secure in the old belief

that only a great idea can bestow greatness

on deed or cause.”

 

 

 

Claw-in-Glove…

*

Wherever the spirit of industry

triumphs over the aristocratic spirit

woman aspires to the economic and legal independence of a clerk.

*

‘Erica-the-Cleric’, stands inscribed over the portal of our modern society.

*

There has been an almost masculine stupidity about this movement

of which real women, that is to say clever women, are heartily ashamed.

There has been a desire to make woman more cultivated

as if history had not declared that to cultivate anything

is to make it weaker.

*

That in woman which inspires respect is her ‘nature’,

which is more ‘natural’ than that of man,

her beast-of-prey suppleness and inner savagery.

*

Woman is being divested of her enchantment.

*

Europe, O’ Europe…

No Goddess lies concealed within this crazy notion.

It is just an idea, and a thoroughly modern idea at that!