gods – (small ‘g’).

Not one of my better missives or even near to good. But try to enjoy. All CONSTRUCTIVE criticism welcome.

August comes from the Latin word augustus, meaning “consecrated” or “venerable,” which in turn is related to the Latin augur, meaning “consecrated by augury” or “auspicious.” In 8 B.C. the Roman Senate honored Augustus Caesar, the first Roman emperor, by changing the name of their month Sextilis to Augustus

August by nature, he strode the palace floors.

Revered by all, feared by most, yet sad beyond his strength.

Ruler of the known world but not of his own.

Troubled and tormented by fear and guilt.

About which he knew not either why or how.

His problematic mind anathematic to his own.

In dreams he saw only what he dreaded.

The gods of Rome were powerless to abate.

What power can come from him who is not there.

Sacrifices to your empty deities bring no healing.

Waxing moons supposedly bring spiritual hope,

Waning  again like unrequited love on a distant shore,

White sand running through your fingers like the days of life.

No hope was found, no pity lost on mortal man.

Jupiter, supreme ruler of the gods, Juno his queen,

“Surely I am a god, does not Rome worship me?”

“Woe to you Minerva and Neptune, fake deities of Rome”

“Venus and Mars, you are planets not gods like me.”

“Apollo, son of Jupiter, loose your arrow and slay your father,

Thought he does not exist, but then, nor you.”

And so he curses every useless god he knows in hope of finding peace.

But no, each non-existent deity curses him back in incredulity.

How dare he say we don’t endure, just because we ……………..

There is no god save one.

Save one,

Save one.

He died

He lives.

©joseph r mason 2020

Photo by Michael Giugliano on Pexels.com

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What if?

I don’t normally write rap, but this is my first attempt. I hope you like it.

If white was black and black was white,
If light was dark and dark was light,
How different the world would be.
Not only for you, but also for me.

But what if colour did not exist.
No such thing as a white racist.
If we were all the same,
Would that be such a shame?

What if, when we were girls and boys,
No guns, no dolls, just neutral toys.
Would we all grow up the same?
Would our life be rather lame?

What if we all lived in harmony?
There is no you, there is no me.
Would that be really tragic?
Or would it be, just magic?

©️ joseph r mason 2020

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Magic” July 27, 2020

Beautiful, Broken Creatures (new poem)

There are too many truths here not to reblog.

Broken People

“Some days, some hours, we soar.
Hawks, eagles, miles above sea level, worshiping the splendor below.
The wind lashing around us, we are boundless…complete…

Other times we bleed – dreadful children,
scraping our way through a field of shattered glass and dreams.

Yet we carry on, feigning normalcy;
actors, playing the part assigned to us by the others,

All the while perishing.

All the while feeling as if we’re unique to desperation.

Can no one feel the tears?
Can no one see our heartbreak?
Has no one the same perception of hopelessness we possess?

Hanging in the eternal balance,
somewhere between life and death,

We watch the years tick-tick-tick by,
soul gradually unburdening itself from skeleton,
ever so gently, as mortality snakes in.

Frantic, we grasp the nearest olive branch,
be it friend or foe,
cleaving to any veneer of chance.

As water sashays through our fingers, though,
we frightfully…

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Who is my Neighbour?

Picture is Connecticut 10th grader Sarah Harrison’s Doodle, “A Peaceful Future”

Who is my neighbour, do they live next door?
What if they’re ugly, or drunk or a whore?
What if they really are just not like us?
Quiet, refined, not making a fuss.

Who is my neighbour? Not just in my street,
Surely my neighbour is all whom I meet.
They’re black, they are white, they are straight, they are gay
They’re the every day folk, that I meet every day.

I shall not judge them and they’ll not judge me.
They’re my brothers, my sisters, and all should be free.
My neighbours, they cover the face of this earth,
So I’ll love and respect them for all they are worth.

But one day there will be a reckoning for all,
Black, white and ugly, the big and the small.
On that day, a sorting, the wheat from the chaff,
And then the down trodden will have the last laugh.
The wheat go to heaven, the chaff down to hell,
You’d best love your neighbour or you’ll go down as well.

Penned for Eugenie’s weekly prompt. https://amanpan.com/2020/07/20/eugis-weekly-prompt-neighbors-july-20-2020/



Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5

Contentment lies not in what is ours but in whose we are. When we come into a relationship with God through his Son, Jesus Christ, we understand whose we are and what we have. Envy causes us to look horizontally at what others have — and so we are never satisfied. We pursue the God of money, thinking about what it can buy us. Contentment invites us to look vertically at God. When we look in his direction, we know he is enough.

Contentment is the secret to inward peace. It remembers the bare truth that we brought nothing into the world and can take nothing out of it, including our money. Life, in fact, is a journey from one moment of vulnerability to another. So we should travel light and live simply. The reality for most people is that we have enough — whatever enough is. We would be well-advised to be content with what we have.

Being content with less stuff and not envying those with a lot are tough challenges that require a dependence on and satisfaction in God. We must trust him and not money.

Too often we take our eyes off God and put them on earthly pursuits, with money most often being at the top of our lists. Money has the frightfully dangerous power of overshadowing

God in our lives. The heart can only love one thing at a time. When we choose to love God, we will discover the marvelous benefit of contentment and the lack of satisfaction from money. Keep your focus, therefore, on God. He is enough. ♦

A Poet’s Story: The End

This is not one of my poems, I have reblogged this because it is so beautiful. Please read slowly and aloud listening to each phrase, it may move you to tears, or it may not. Look up the poet and follow her work. She’s has some really fantastic pieces.


Ever thought?
How sin caused by pleasure,
Can cause so much pain after.
And that pain my mind could not contain
And my heart bled with loss
It’s because my king added to it
Because he left me..
With no sun and without a son
I had no love, no consolation

Photo obtained from Google

So I discovered another pen
Bleeding with ink, not indelible one this time
And a paper to bleed on
I adopted poetry as my daughter
She was free, yet came at a cost
So cheap, yet carrying a value unmatched
And here we are, talking to you, sharing us.
We hope you hold on, as we sail with you
On this journey that never ends

View original post

A Modern Psalm

Joseph Mason


Did the elders not seek your face?
Did they not pray out loud to you?
Did they not wait upon you
And seek your guidance?

Did we not fast and pray
To do your good pleasure?
Late into the night
To seek your true guidance?

Did we not take your precepts to the people?
Did we not tell them the word from the Lord?
Then why oh Lord have they not heard?
Why Oh Lord do they not listen to your truths?

Are we like prophets of old?
Despised in our own house.
For You will withdraw Your blessing,
From a house divided against itself.

When they say, oh Lord,
We do not like the style of worship,
Did they ask you?
Did they really seek your face?

When they say Lord,
We do not like the drums
We do not like the cymbals
Do they argue with your Psalms?

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Too young to have ID

I’ve unpublished this poem twice now, basically because I think it’s not to my usual standard. But I’ve republished, yet again, despite my misgivings.

blur lights photography during night

Me and me mates are on the town,

And in the corner shop

We want illicit booze to buy,

but the cashier, he shouts “STOP!”

“Before you purchase this or that,

there’s something I must see.

you look too young, not shaving still,

let’s see some good ID.”

“The reason I’m not shaving sir,”

(my head is in a whirl)

“The reason I’m not shaving sir,

is because I am a girl?”

“Don’t lie to me, I know your dad,

the local vicar is he.

I can’t serve you, you’re much too young,

and his God, he might strike me.”

“You need not worry about our God,

He’s loving and kind as well.

But my dad could have a word with him,

and make sure you go to hell.”

“Get out! Get out! You horrid child,

and don’t come back again.

I’ll have you know, God is not like that,

he want’s to save all men.”

“But He could make an exception,

an exception just for you.

Roasting in the fires of hell

up to your neck in poo.”

“Get out I said, I said be gone,

and don’t come back as well,

it wont be me in the roasting pot

but you and your mates as well.”

“Oh no I won’t, I know I won’t,

if you want I’ll tell you why.

Because Jesus is my saviour,

so I’ll never truly die.”

©joseph r mason 2020

Photo by Andreea Ch on Pexels.com

Rising to the challenge https://amanpan.com/2020/07/13/eugis-weekly-prompt-identity-july-13-2020/

Just for observation

Sorry dear, I have this pain,

Right across here, and here the same.

It’s probably nothing, don’t make a fuss.

I can see the doctor, I’ll go on the bus.

I’ll be all right in the morning.

Blue lights flash, and sirens wail,

The patient looks bad and very pail.

Race against time, race against time

Bet it’s a bloke who’ll say he’s just fine,

That he’ll be all right in the morning.

No, I’m really quite well, it’s just this pain

That’s giving me hell, makes my energy drain,

Im fine, Im fine, I’ll be all right.

It’s just my chest, it’s rather tight.

I’ll be just fine in the morning.

Attaching leads, legs arms and chest

Taking a reading, it’s all for the best

Irregular beats in troughs and peaks

We really should take you before it’s too late.

Or you’ll not be fine in the morning.

I’m sure it’s not as bad as you say,

It’s just a pain, I’ve had it all day

I’m really tired and I can’t stop yawning,

But I’ll be all right in the morning.

Yes, I’ll be all right in the morning.

We’re taking you in, there’s no more to say,

It’s the NHS, so there’s nothing to pay.

It’s one of the marvels of our wonderful nation,

We’ll just take you in for some observation.

Or you’ll not be all right in the morning.

Your wasting your time, and the doctors as well,

There’s really no problem, I just fainted and fell.

Observe all you want, there is nothing amiss

Though my breathings not good, comes out in a hiss.

And I’ll be all right in the morning.

The sirens are on and the blue lights are flashing

Through wide roads and lanes the ambulance dashing.

Call in to resus, to alert of our coming

Keep him alive, though the odds are quite baffling

No, he won’t be all right in the morning.

There now, we’ve made it, there was no need to fuss,

Though the pain is much worse, like I’ve been hit by a bus.

I told you I’m fine, all the doctors they lied,

Now the room’s growing darker, I think I just ……..

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© joseph r mason 2020

In response to Eugi’s weekly prompt “Observation” July 6th 2020. https://amanpan.com/2020/07/06/eugis-weekly-prompt-observation-july-6-2020/