Thursday, 11 December 2014

What will become of me ...?

What will become of me?

Of them?

Of us?

Of you who are reading this?

What will become of the blood and the bones that we hope will last when natural beauty has faded?

What will become of love not expressed, not returned, never seen the light of day? 

And love that is, that was, that basked in the shining sun?

What will become of the ones that could not be saved?

And of the ones that were plucked from the raging seas?

Winning or losing .... 

The world turns and turn we do in spinning space

And turn we must upon the perilous knife-edge of choosing

Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Belshazzar’s Feast

I set a place of forgetting at the table.
It was only after the meal that I remembered,
And then it was too late . . .

Published in Love's First Look, poems by SC Fordham (2010)


Grown in such inhospitable ground
Petals of pity trembling in battle’s breeze
Pity for all that’s lost, for all in the grip of blind force
Pity for every soul torn, for the weight of unrelenting remorse
Distressed soil of forgotten fields your home

The earth weeping the blood in which your seed is sown
Pick the poppy, make its death your own
Wear it close to your heart, walk on
But do not look for peace
It is the shoes on your feet

Published in The Cool of the Day, poems by SC Fordham (2009)

Monday, 10 November 2014

love is setting

Love is setting like the sun
So soon to disappear into the unseen real
To sleep, to dream of requite in the deep heart of an earth
That does not feel loss
That does not know longing
That does not hold life
In Truth
How long will the night to come last?
How long will this last light remain?
Time filters what strength is left through ancient fingers 
Whilst the world waits
Watches and waits for the first flickering rays of hope

Friday, 7 November 2014


The war goes on
One long battle from fall to fallen to now
It has not stopped
The delusion of progress has not yet halted us on our march
Has not yet unveiled her lying eyes
We see through them believing the next battle won will be the last
But it is not
Each fight contains the seeds of the next sown
True remembrance flown 

Click here for a list of current armed conflicts

Thursday, 21 August 2014


As brutality deepens with each night
And we turn away
Celebrity shines a light in our faces
So we do not have to contemplate
The utterly unimaginable

Many more are carried away by evil today than yesterday
Extinguished in ways unspeakable
Forcing yet more to live on the borders of pain and insanity

A wounded heart only a wounded God can heal.

Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Raiment of stars

The landscape has opened up in me
Causing me to see a light
Like a full moon casting
A path of silver
Inviting us to shed yesterday
And put on tomorrow

But Sorrow stays so close
By the side of the silver path whispering
"Stay where you know, my dears, don't go"
As the wind blows gentle and strong
And the stars come out to play
To sprinkle their dust on our shadows

Ah, how late it is, how late, my love
To step into this light
But there is a lot at stake
Hurry [we have come so far!]
Let us exchange our dark robes
For a raiment of stars

Tuesday, 8 July 2014


fire burns to ashes
wind blows the dust
air stirs the treetops
dryness weeps for water
life passes on

sorrow and joyfulness swing together
upon tomorrow's losses

so pierced

broken through the so soft surface with the strength of steel
causing water to seep from the pool of my eyes
breaking dawn what loss will you herald?
what sorrow will you incorporate into your day?
what thread will your dusk weave through the night so as to connect my piercing with yours?
when will the so thin thread glimmer silver in the fragile morning light
be pulled so tight so as to unite us in the grief of death
and the joy of returning so transfigured?

Saturday, 21 June 2014


should I become old I would that my paper-thin skin glows with some sort of luminosity

Friday, 13 June 2014

They say that there is kiss

They say that there is kiss
That will cause Beauty to stir in her deep sleep
Move her head, arms, feet
Her pale cheek to flush so slightly
Under the pressure of tender lips
Eyelids to flutter, then to open

They say there is a Prince called Truth
Full of Peace
In whose veins flow liquid love
He longs to awaken Beauty
To walk with her along paths of Goodness
And birdsong

Friday, 25 April 2014

Grieving Father

Do you think that you will not see her again?

Again to fix your eyes on that so familiar form and feel the warm rush of loving ...

Form, vanished one day so suddenly into the vain thin air.

Do you think that you will not hear her again?

That the universe does not hold the sight and sound of her, reverberating outside of your remembrance?

The knowledge Love bears all things is stored in an everlasting bank for you to withdraw today.

You bore her weight in life and in death she rested on your strong shoulder, made so through fatherhood.

24 April 2014