Peter Lilly: Poems

The following is a poetic reflection on the Lord's Prayer... Father, Remove the weights that pull our eyes to ground so that we may begin with you, our all. In Heaven, Up: out of the minds reach, above all it is that may come between persons created for your unity. Your name, is so much more important than our names, even its sound is righteousness and light, may we not cheapen it with venal voices. Your rule, here it should be as tangible as there, equip and anoint us, so that we may be your ambassadors. My needs are simple, but as the affluent west cracks and splinters We trust you to feed your feeble servants. Forgiveness: The essence of salvation the only way for us broken pieces to retain heart and continue breathing. Enable it in us to forgive as radically as the pain pierced man of innocent service and ultimate authority. ...

These lies cast a thoughtful zeal from the heart of their origin and it convinced so many in the necessity of shadows, that is the necessity of corruption. It was some sort of impatience that drew its teeth across the shivering flesh of the already emotionally tortured, And so many twisted hands reach for the escapism of free-market capitalism that has the individual all wrong: Equating relational significance with collecting eroding materials in the makeup of glittered vomit. And so may twisted hands reach for the razor-wire scaffolding of communism which has community all wrong: Negating the significance of the particular and fashioning flesh cogs which will never rotate cleanly because we are persons, not machinery. Desperate people will grasp for any answers they can reach.  This poem is a call for care and consideration, it is written to highlight that there is more than left and right, conservative and labour, blue and red, ...

Layers fall like people's skin, yet the unstained smooth carpet is true beauty. Crises salt chasms of blackness into that frozen makeup, and you can see the bruised childhood whimpering between thick bravado and humour. Layers fall like people's skin yet these guises all smell like burning plastic. Winter preserves bare branches, ready for young leaves to simultaneously sprout as this white veil is pulled back by rain and sun, and the naked earth can breath with those green buds again. Layers fall like people's skin, yet unlike public rind the unstained snow is true beauty. Written in January 2013. Written while looking at the beauty of the snow and thinking upon those I work with and how deeply hurt many of them are... Snow covers the life of the earth and it's vegetation like the layers of masks worn by those who silently suffer. The snow is beautiful, but the deceptive masks are one of the biggest barrier...