“He knows nothing; and he thinks he knows everything. That points clearly to a political career.”
To propel our profile, populist,
an easy enemy assists,
a tag as target, ire fire,
some specious speech to steer a cheer,
enhance first glance, our own career.
I’ve heard it preached priests, journalists,
built business as in politics,
in facts, I’ve seen it everywhere,
artists, poets, dramatists,
confession, profession, gutter, tower.
And in those spheres I’ve stumbled, saints,
some standing, contradiction signs,
those written off, beyond our ken,
not recognised, or met before,
defying well-worn labels used.
I tire of hearing, millstone priests –
preceded kingdom, prostitutes –
but celebrate more, making mark,
column writers on the scent,
Striding strong against the stream,
willing witness, well-weathered rock,
whatever creed, wherever need,
these fail to fit convenience –
by grace both greeted, guided on.
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church due to Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, most recently The Sweetycat Press, The Parliament Literary Magazine, Mad Swirl, Grand Little Things, Stone Poetry Journal, Poetry Potion.
His blog is at https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com/
He is, like many, a nominee for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net this year.