Jonathan Beale- A Poem

Maundy Thursday

      

The first is now – its last afternoon 16.24 to-be-precise

Maundy Thursday – soap sales increase – not by much

And the exaggerated footsteps bound along

Echoing a tattoo

Of meaningful direction

The clock stares away:

Seemingly the moment has grown as an empty shell

Purposes grow and need pruning to become and re-become

The flat vision before an alter of sorts

Awaiting its truth

As we kneeling before

Watch facelessly:

The car park remains: each car poised as if ready to launch

The evening is clicking and trawling – ever nearer

An old couple shuffle to meet their Gasemene

The waiting and the waking hours made to rest

To leave the soul

Awaiting strength:

The night the day the black the white – good evil and the consequences

Sitting in a mammoth solitude engulfing not one man but a humanity

The bird song broke a truth

Cold silence

A new day events

Would unfurl:

The actions as we sit around – hateful: in blind self pity

We watch the clock dissolve what we have and our green minds

Erode what we have not

For they who

And do not see

The worlds will be: 

Bio

Jonathan Beale’s work has appeared regularly in Decanto,  Penwood Review,  The Screech Owl, Danse Macabre, Danse Macabre du Jour, Poetic Diversity, and also; Voices of Israel in English, MiracleEzine,  Voices of Hellenism Literary Journal, The Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Down in the Dirt, The English Chicago Review, Mad Swirl, Poetry Cornwall, Ariadne’s Thread and Bijou Poetry Review. He was commended in Decanto’s and Café writers Poetry Competitions 2012.  And is working on a collection for Hammer and Anvil. He writes about music, art, architecture, history, nature, science, cities, and the human condition.  He currently works in mental health in South West London. He studied philosophy at Birkbeck College London. He lives in Surrey England.