THE BEATITUDE POEMS

(here are three poems that made up the middle section of our Fitzroy morning service... we were looking at the Beatitudes so we started by reading them from TNIV and ended by reading them in the Message. In between we had Lucinda Williams song Blessed, my poem Blessed Are The Arrogant and two poems written especially by Fitzers Chris Hunter and Scott Jamison)

CROWNED by Chris Hunter

God's are the barren
For theirs is virgin land
 
Crowned are the broken
For they will be mended
 
Blessed are the malleable
For they will fashion a new kingdom
 
God's are those who delay
For in fasting they will feast
 
Crowned are the light bearers
They will see truth
 
Undamned are the soulclean
For they have room for God
 
Blessed are they who sabbath
For they will reside in God
 
God's are the ruptured right
For theirs is a place for everyone

BLESSED ARE THE ARROGANT by Steve Stockman

On these charred streets of Belfast

There are scars on minds and hearts

The only thing we together

Is to rip one another apart

It’s hard to find the chinks of light

In this God forsaken place

If he doesn’t bring his judgement down

It’s an even more amazing grace.

         

And cursed are the peacemakers

For they might compromise

Cursed are those who mourn

For they might apologise

Cursed are the poor in spirit

For they might confess and regret

And cursed are the merciful

For they might forgive and forget

And cursed are the meek

For they won’t ride their high horse

But blessed are the arrogant

For they will maintain this curse.

 

On these broken hearts of Belfast

There are spoken open lies

No matter what your fancy dress

The truth can’t be disguised

We belligerently spit in the face of God

This miraculous peace time space

If God don’t bring his judgement down

It’s an even more amazing grace.

LISTEN by Scott Jamison

This is how it’s going to be

Broken hearts will be held together

Grief will be out of a job for good

Pride will know the cold side of the door

What is right will be devoured

Bread will be broken with mercy

Purity will be the porchlight

And peace will be its moth and those

Who have known the back of hands

Will know every lifeline of my palm

This was how I had always planned.

 

 

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