At The Bombed-out Church

by stephen smith

Sunday 13th October 2013 9:58 pm

At The Bombed-Out Church (Liverpool)

Burnt rafter stubs pock blast-nudged brick,

Wan plaster scabs an irrelevant pattern,

Choir stalls are stripped to their roots

In a barren tiled floor, All blown to blazes

by Nazi bombs. Emptiness

Is the memorial to pious songs.

Cold is the wind through the nave,

Warm the fusion of your hand in mine,

As we avert our eyes to the ravages of time,

Gamble with pains, win golden moments

In the vacuum where faith once was.

There is rain water in the unscathed font,

Perhaps an omen, random as omens are,

That this thirst for love will yet be quenched,

Though energy fades and desire

Is answered with this riddle:

Through loss of fear may we come to pleasure,

Is then fear of loss, of our joy the measure?

Comments

Isobel

Tue 15th Oct 2013 14:11

I've read this poem several times but found it difficult to comment on.

The poetry is lovely - it speaks for itself.

I like the play on the word 'loss' at the end. I think very many people in contented life styles must wrestle with the same riddle. Contentment isn't the same as extreme happiness - which in my opinion, not many people manage to find or hang on to.

I think I'd call that kind of happiness 'the holy grail' - but not in its religious sense.

Dave Bradley

Tue 15th Oct 2013 08:13

Much to like in this Steve. At one level it is about the search for love. But that seems to be subtly interwoven with the search for meaning. The randomness of omens - does that mirror the randomness of German bombs? The poem seems to express a determination to hang on to the possibility of love even if life seems meaningless and everything is subject to decay. It is courageous in facing fundamental anxiety unflinchingly. Saint Lukes is a great place to pick for that kind of exploration

darren thomas

Mon 14th Oct 2013 13:38

"Emptiness

Is the memorial to pious songs".

I knew I couldn't stop reading the rest after reading that line. Enjoyed this Steve.

Laura Taylor

Mon 14th Oct 2013 11:16

Ooo - very intricate, very clever!

I am of course familiar with the location, but love the way you subtly interweave the personal relationship aspects with the physicality of the church.

Last two lines are killer. I will say, unashamedly, that I found true love only a few short years ago, and the fear of loss has only been with me since then. I have never felt it before. It terrifies me. I LOVE how you have expressed the duality of those feelings.

Brilliant piece Steve.

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At The Bombed-out Church

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