A Thousand Dimensions ~ Eastertide ~ A View ~ Part II of III ~ Good Friday, Liverpool 2011
A Thousand Dimensions
Late Evening
Liverpool
23 April 2011
There is much traffic
in the Estuary tonight
as the smog alights
and casts its net
upon the coastline.
The heavy smell of cordite,
or is it scrap metal,
from the Huskisson
or Canada Docks
on the Port of Liverpool?
The mighty Fort George
lies at anchor,
its conning towers
capped by the smoggy yellow;
late night revellers
looking in bags and pockets
for their Ventolin inhalers.
The ducks and geese are loud
in the basin below the window
where earlier sat a seagull
eyeing the food on the coffee table.
The ship’s engines now just
a distant hum
but another ship approaches,
shimmering lights,
a trawler,
and behind it a flotilla
heading upstream
to Ellesmere Port.
A Tanker with tugs to
port and stern
another on the bow,
a mighty tanker
the length of this warehouse
twice over,
on the Waterloo Dock!
Waterloo Dock
… a mighty tanker
the length of this warehouse
twice over,
The Pier Head stands empty
but bathed in lights,
Her Majesty’s Canadian
Ship of War
slipping its moorings
on Maundy Thursday.
The great clock
on the Liver strikes
One past the hour. . .
and despite the smog
a pleasant night.
Recollections of another darkness.
A spiritual pollution.
A different smog.
When the Universe gasped
and the Host of Heaven
gazed on in hapless awe
as Salvation bore the stripes
and yielded opened hands
and crossed feet
to the spite-driven nails
of fallen man,
a Crown of Thorns,
and with a deathly hush
the powers of darkness rush
ever so briefly in
savouring an even more momentary victory
as Salvation yielded. . .
then made a Universal Declaration. . .
It is finished!
and smite them asunder.
7 April 2023
All Rights Reserved
© 2023 Kenneth Thomas Webb
The Original was penned on 23 April 2011
A Thousand Dimensions ~ Eastertide ~ A View ~ Part III of III
The Culmination of Events
Leads us to this On Easter Morn
That Great Refrain from Childhood days
that still thrills me now
He is Risen
Except that I really do find myself wondering
when I consider just one of many massacres,
and a place called Babyn Yar in a ravine
just outside Kyiv September-October 1941
What went on there even broke some of those who did the killing.
I could write more, but that would only set our teeth on edge.
7 April 2023 KTW
Ken Webb is a writer and proofreader. His website, kennwebb.com, showcases his work as a writer, blogger and podcaster, resting on his successive careers as a police officer, progressing to a junior lawyer in succession and trusts as a Fellow of the Institute of Legal Executives, a retired officer with the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, and latterly, for three years, the owner and editor of two lifestyle magazines in Liverpool.
He also just handed over a successful two year chairmanship in Gloucestershire with Cheltenham Regency Probus.
Pandemic aside, he spends his time equally between his city, Liverpool, and the county of his birth, Gloucestershire.
In this fast-paced present age, proof-reading is essential. And this skill also occasionally leads to copy-editing writers’ manuscripts for submission to publishers and also student and post graduate dissertations.
