The tear-soaked mud…


How long the furrow that man must plough
How deep the mud so filled with dread
How sad the tears that fall to earth
Now mud that takes us when we’re dead.

And all along, and all along
The good man keeps his godly faith
But sad the man who feels so sinned
That he might rise as driven wraith.

And all those souls of bloodied gristle
Who smite the sinned by means so foul
Will feel the pain and share the fate
As when they fall the wraith will howl.

And when the good man falls to sin
As feet of clay oft make him do
The tear-soaked mud now draws him down
He’s now sin-free, yet what of you!

And all along, and all along
The furrow stays yet still to plough
For sinners yet to make their mark
A simple matter of when…and how.

©Joe Wilson – The tear-soaked mud…2016

Lord, why are we even here…

When I lay my head upon the pillow, Lord
And ponder this amazing world, I ask
What manner of creature did you think us
That You would set such an onerous task.
For surely we’re creative, Lord
We make such wonders grow
Advances in areas like science
There’s so much more we now know.
And yet, and yet, we kill ourselves
In wars and in the violent streets
There is no logic for these awful acts
So many dead bodies in blood-soaked sheets.
The wondrous planet on which life grows
We’ve blown up and torn it apart
We treat each other abysmally
You’d think we had no heart.
So why Lord, why entrust us
To care for our Earth this way
For we are turning what was green
Into infernal grey.

But I see you now Lord, I see you
You’ve acted with sleight of hand
You pray each day we’ll tire of this
For then we’ll understand.
But will it make us better, Lord
If Your faith in us is fulfilled
If at last our appetite is slaked
And no further blood is spilled.
It’s never easy to follow you, Lord
For You truly do move in mystery
But some of us work towards that peace
And to confine the horrors to history.
So I look more brightly to the future
In the hope that You’ll be our guide
In the constant search for calmer days
And Your companionship by our side.

©Lord, why are we even here…2016

Faith – or Armageddon next…



His hand reached out but was so oft ignored
Distrust of his different views made them wary
But the hatred of others and their vile resolution
Was brutal to see, but for him wouldn’t vary.

Each night he prayed to his Father for guidance
But his future was foretold, he would die
In the savage times then he would die on a cross
But His love and the Message, they can’t crucify.

He sits at the Father’s side now as of right
So appalled at what men do to each other
They fail in that most simple and basic of tenets
That each single man is his brother.

And yet such capacity they have for the gentle
They will love with such beauteous joy
They’ll delight in the love of their children
Yet with bullets and bombs they simply destroy.

They have written great theories about peace and war
Yet still man seems so driven to destruction
The authors of their very own Armageddon
Which approaches from out of their own construction.

These are the thoughts of just one concerned man
Many others have thoughts such as he
If the Father and the Son are as faith dictates
Why do they allow frail humanity to be.


Man is the author of his very own doom
With thoughtless disdain he heads for his tomb
Yet such in itself one could just tolerate
If he didn’t make others all share his sad fate.
And as one may take up his pen for to write
So many more take up arms to join in the fight
And as the blood of innocents spills deepest red
Innocent victims count for most of the dead.
But yet the one with trigger in hand
Would also like to understand
Why he can’t love and be at home
With his wife and children, or reading some tome.


The die gets cast by the hidden ‘others’.
Who can’t accept that we all are brothers.
It will go on — war is not yet done
Man may well yet reach his Armageddon…

©Joe Wilson – Faith – or Armageddon next…2016


I guess I missed you around today
My nerves were all on edge
I thought about you often
And of that infernal wedge.
But the fact is folk are dying
And I think you should do more
In fact, it seems to me sometimes
Your performance is quite poor.
What’s that I hear you say to me
What is it that I do
I guess you have a point there
Should I sit and watch like you?
You see,
I’m never sure that I believe
The things I hear of you
Such evil roams about this world
Folks don’t know what to do.
Some put their faith in you so much
But see those hopes get dashed
Where cultures and religions meet
It’s less than peaceful when they’ve clashed.
But who am I, a simple soul
I’m sure your plan is wise
Though man should suffer for his sins
It’s hard to look in sufferings’ eyes.

©Joe Wilson – Faith…2016

Who are we – we are one…

The ticking of the clock marks the moments
Since the last breath you took on this Earth
The seconds tick away just like teardrops
As you’re replaced by a much-wanted birth.
And on yet it moves, the cycle of life
Never-ending since the dawning of time
Yet what are we worth who slaughter so
Our such violent nature has no rhyme.

For what are we really, this so savage race
Who would trample down others without thought
Who would take to our weapons in a moment
When more peaceful solutions should be sought.
And yet – there are those with the patience of Job
Who’ve committed to peace all their days
Who would give up their life for another
We are humans with such complex ways.

So many are killing one another
It matters not the colour of the dead
For when you look at the bodies that lie slaughtered
You’ll notice the blood is all red.
And when families all gather to mourn loved ones
In the church of their faith amidst fears
The dead were all once of the one human race
And we all cry the same sad wet tears.

©Joe Wilson – Who are we – we are one…2016