Thursday, October 23, 2014

Spike II

I Choose to Forgive

Though the cuffs of my jeans are muddied
from the dirt you have dragged me through,
I choose to forgive.

Though the nails of my fingers are bloodied 
from the fighting you've forced me to do,
I choose to forgive.

Though no book or belief I have studied
can make sense of the path you pursue,
I choose to forgive.

Though the walls of my heart are broken
and the centre of my self is black-bruised
by the lash of the lies you've spoken
and the wounds of the words that you've used,
though I huddle, a tear-trembling tragedy
stripped of the power to trust,
blocked off from all who might help me
by the guilt that came wrapped with your lust,
I choose to forgive.

And this act alone
breaks the cycle.
This act alone
rights the wrong.
This act alone
ends the evil.
This act alone
makes me strong,

heals blind hatred with soft sight,
kicks the darkness into light.

I choose to forgive.

Gerard Kelly

Watercolour on paper

Sunday, October 19, 2014


The world seems to be going crazy at the moment, the continuing rise of brutality in the Middle East is casting a shadow over everything. The growing ebola crisis is causing a general nervous drawing in of breath amongst those of us in countries still untouched by it. The relentless insistence of everyday life thankfully draws our gaze from the news on our screens as we have to engage with earning money and 
providing for our family.

But then of course there is anchovy bread ( I mean the fresh variety). This is the time of year when anchovies swarm down from the Black sea into the Bosphorus causing a fish bonanza. You can fry them and eat them bones and all, you can bake them with rice, you can even find them in bread! I was buying one such 'loaf' the other day and I was met with a monologue about the prophet Noah, fish and something to do with Turks being related to Noah. I've never quite understood the propensity of certain of my dear friends to monologue about religion. It can be endearing to listen to at times as long as you have an escape route when the tea grows cold. 

I have to point out that anything to do with anchovies brings a look of utter revulsion to the faces of my teenage kids.

Watercolour on paper

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