Desperate for A Grave

 

 

He was sitting on my grave

And I was desperate to get back in,

I had been out all night

And the dawn was coming.

 

I had not been dead long

So I had not been used to this,

I had been so intent on roaming

That I didn’t consider the risk.

 

I could go and come as I please

But must be back before dawn,

Only one single rule to keep

And I had been forewarned.

 

The night that was in question

I had returned to my recent haunts,

I had no special mission in mind;

I just went for a casual jaunt.

 

I was already missing the place

And I stayed a little too long

But on returning to my grave

Everything was going wrong.

 

I had lost my vocal chords

And I knew he could not hear me,

And since I could see him clearly

I felt he could also see.

 

Don’t forget, I was not long dead

And I was not yet used to this

So I had returned to my old district

Quite unaware of the risk.

 

We were never to be seen

When we went on our nightly roam

Hence, long before the dawn,

We were to be back home.

 

 

I sat on a grave nearby

And enquired from the resident within,

Meanwhile the dawn was quickly approaching

And I needed to get back in.

 

I asked if it had happened to him

And what did he actually do,

He said never in a hundred years

And I don’t know what to tell you.

 

Meanwhile he sat on my grave

With me trying to get back in

Smoking cigarette after cigarette

And got my grave like a bin.

 

By this time the smoke was killing me;

I could hardly breathe

Which reminds me when I broke the habit

I had been quite relieved.

 

I could see he had some problems

For he was talking to himself,

And for a man who was not yet dead

He was really in poor health.

 

By the way it had been raining

And he was soaked through to the bone,

All the more reason why he should leave

So I could get back in my home.

 

Nor even suicide could help me

Since I was already dead,

And I could not even have a headache

For in my grave I had left my head.

 

And my body for that matter

So I had no physical pain

But this mental anguish I was experiencing

I would never leave my grave again.

 

Whereupon I heard my neighbour,

“That is why it’s never happened to me.

I’ve been quite content to stay in my grave;

I am free from roaming free.

 

 

Many have sat on my grave

But they have never troubled me,

I had had enough of life out there

And there is no more for me to see.

 

“Can I share your grave with you?”

I asked rather pleadingly.

“Sure you can, my young deceased friend,

As long as you bring your body.”

 

“But my body is in my grave

And for right now I cannot get back in,

And I must confess I can’t deal with smoke

The man is on my grave smoking.

 

“You are newly dead, I have perceived.”

“But how did you know that?”

Because your body is still intact;

Isn’t that a fact?

 

It is quite obvious to me

You have not accepted your death

And that is the very reason

That you got up and left.

 

And now you are afraid

That the dawn will catch you outside,

I bet that you have even considered

Committing suicide.”

 

“But how can you know this?

I have never spoken with you

You are spot on my aged friend

Now tell me what to do.”

 

“I’ve been around a long time

And I know what not to do,

I stay in my grave

And you should have done that too.

 

As to what you should do

I haven’t a clue,

Find somebody older and wiser

And get another view.

 

 

This conversation is now ended

So, please get up off my grave,

The living can sit there upon

But of the dead I am terribly afraid.”

  

So, here I am

With the dawn approaching

And this man is sitting on my grave

And unsuspectingly smoking.

 

I would give anything

Just to change places with him

I am desperate for my grave

And I just want to get in.

 

If only I could get back in my grave

I would never leave again,

Given this anguish I am experiencing

I would rather have pain.

 

I was restless in life

Now I am restless in death,

My body lies in my grave

And I have nothing left.

 

Desperate for a grave

The living has taken mine,

Now it appears I must roam

For the rest of time.

 

Stewart Russell © August 25, 2020

 

 

Some Don’t Believe

If you don’t believe

There is going to be a hell

Then believe this, my friend,

There’s one the Bible tells.

 

Jesus said more about it

Than he spoke about heaven,

We don’t have to dread it

If we’ve been forgiven.

 

There is a fancy I know

We can argue things away

But believe God’s word

It is here to stay.

 

 

Hell was created;

In the Bible you’ll find this

So it won’t go away

However hard you wish.

 

Interesting enough,

It wasn’t created for man

But for the devil and his angels,

This was the plan.

 

However, all who reject Christ

Will be cast into hell

And it is not a place of comfort

But a place of dread.

 

I have heard it said

Hell is right here right now:

Some manner of retribution

God has avowed.

 

Death will end it

It won’t forever abide,

Perhaps this is the reason

Some commit suicide.

 

There is a hell

That many go through here

But for this type of hell

It is man we must fear.

 

 

 

His selfishness and greed

Is responsible for this

But there is no comparison

If heaven we miss.

 

God’s great salvation

Is the only way of escape,

If you are on the broad way

Hell is your fate.

 

I know some will laugh

And call this baloney

But I say to all naysayers

Hell is a reality.

 

God does not operate

After the fact,

Oh no, my friend,

He’s not a God like that.

 

That god is human

Spelt with a common ’g’,

Certainly not Almighty God

That exists eternally.

 

God is not reactive

As humans tend to be.

The entirety of life’s future

Is God’s history.

 

 

History is different though

From His story,

God’s narrative is man’s redemption

In the Bible that’s what we see.

 

A narrative of hope

But also, one of dread:

Heaven for the spiritually alive;

Hell for the spiritually dead.

 

I will be too busy

Shaking hands with friends

Was what one critic said

Of his destined end.

 

He doesn’t believe

But this doesn’t change the fact

That hell is a real place

And there's no way back.

 

Stewart Russell © March 16, 2024

 

Repentance Versus Remorse

 

 

 

Repentance leads to action

 It’s not just a feeling,

When pursued with purpose

It brings about our healing.

 

Remorse is gross passivity

It is the guilt complex and all

But all it ever makes us do

Is to brood about our fall.

 

Judas is a case in point

You would recall what he did,

He betrayed his loving Master

And then ran away and hid.

 

Trying to reverse his action

He returned the filthy lucre,

Its allurement and its charm

Had suddenly lost their power.

 

Refusal to accept the returned funds

Drove him to suicide,

His human attempt to make amends

Led to his demise.

 

Surely, he was sorry,

Of this there was no doubt

But though he showed much remorse

He still counted himself out.

He never availed himself

Of the chance to return to Christ,

He brooded in his own remorse

Hoping that would suffice.

 

Judas never repented of his wrong

And finally hanged himself,

Having betrayed his loving Master

He had no uses for his wealth.

 

Of course, he had hoped

That he could have them both,

If only Jesus would have broken free

He would still have had his post.

 

Peter and the other disciples:

They repented of their sin,

Before, they had followed afar off

But they all returned to him.

 

Peter was a special case:

He had denied the Master,

But the Master rose as he said he would

And singled out Peter after.

 

Remorse is kind of strange:

It’s like, “sorry it didn’t work out”

But quite unlike repentance

There is no turn-about.

 

Repentance leads to action

Remorse is passivity,

Repentance brings restoration

Remorse is futility.

 

The responses of Peter and Judas

Are expressions of these two,

Repentance and remorse:

Which of the two grabs you?

 

Stewart Russell © August 2020

It Is Appointed

A man cannot shorten his life

Or himself longer life give,

There is an appointed time

For every man to live.

This is clear in the Word

Read it for yourself

Even though many a man

 Constantly ruins his health.

How about suicide?

Is not such premature?

That was the time appointed

Do not God’s Word ignore!

I do not fully understand

But what I do know

Hebrews chapter 9 verse 27

Assures me this is so.

This verse speaks to time

Definitely not to manner

For while man may decide how

The time is a different matter.

The manner will vary

In so many different ways

But there is a time appointed,

There’s an appointed day.

If you are reading this

Your time has not yet come

But thousands will die

Before you are done.

If you complete reading it

Then you were not one

But you could be gone

Before the light of dawn.

We give credit to doctors

For prolonging life

We surmise a lot

And our speculation is rife.

If he hadn’t done such

 He would not have died,

If only someone was there

We sometimes decide.

History will show

That at that appointed time

The deceased passed away

Whatever we opine.

We hear about people

That had cheated death,

 Clearly whoever that was

Still had time left.

If it were his appointed time

He would have gone

And rather than rejoice

We would have mourned.

Our actions are set,

Every move we will make

And so too the consequences

To every decision we take.

“What a fatalist he is!”

That’s all right with me,

I know I still have a chance

To influence my destiny.

You can accuse me

Of a definite contradiction

But everyone has a choice

Re: the critical decision.

I am not powerless

Concerning my soul’s salvation,

I can choose life and live

Or I can choose damnation.

God the Sovereign One

Has given us the choice

To accept or reject Him

When we hear His voice.

  

For one thing is certain

In this poem He has spoken

And given your power of choice

To His voice you should harken.

For death is an appointment

Whenever it comes

And we will give an account

Re: what we do with God’s Son.

Whose death was appointed

Before the foundation of the world

And prophesied at Genesis 3:15

In God’s Holy Word.

Foreordained before the world

And manifest in time,

Jesus the Saviour came

To die for sinful mankind.

In the Lamb’s book of life

Names are written there,

None will ever be blotted out

Or suddenly disappear.

Once a name is written there

It is the Saviour’s claim

And though that one may die

That one will live again.

Each clock that’s been wound

Will come to an appointed end

If you’re reading this poem

There is still time my friend.

Time to make that decision

That will determine your destiny

Time take Christ as Saviour

And for all eternity.

Stewart Russell © July 2018