by Bob Hitching
It is your Holy Love I crave
So sacred, Holy, pure yet kind
To be for you a willing slave
To only you my soul does bind
This world has gone beyond disgrace
Total darkness, evil, sin there is no shame
There seems no room for sacred space
Mighty man in godless pride makes claim

But then
I see a tapestry that spreads
filled with silky golden threads
As I hear the sounds of demons gasp
Joined in chaos with no power to grasp
As truth arrives of what was torrid doom
Is Pregnant sky full of flowers that bloom
Lord, no nothing shall be denied thy consent
Your are hidden in shadows but never absent

Hidden not absent


BY bob hitching
I saw Homer Plessy
sitting on a seat
on a train
on a sunny day
On June 7 1892
He was a man of mixture
A mixture of a man
I saw the train Conductor
A fine Christian man
Who believed all Baptist truth
Who knew his Bible
He was a man of mixture
A mixture of a man
Forgotten ghosts were also there
Whose pain we can only speculate
Upon Homer Plessy they could only stare
Unable to assist knowing he would wait
Until Conductor Mix
And Jim Crow Fix
Would build a platform made of sticks
To either burn or lynch
Homer Plessy Mix upon the altar
To Pagan goddess who wore a pointed crown of stars
To show the world the way of power
And clothed in stripes with whip that Massa wields
Equal but different was her creed
Homer Plessy was different
A mixture of a man
Seven eighths white just once eighth black
But when weighed upon the scales of justice
The Pagan goddess made her claim
For harmony and order
For the sake of everyone
Homer Plessy must take a seat
His one eighth self must take his place
To the sacred Baptist space
For the goddess and her stars
And stripes of fragrant godly grace
Homer Plessy was a man of mixture
A mixture of a man



By Bob Hitching
I feel the barriers within my heart
A veil before my eyes of faith
Unexplained hardness
Undiluted doubt
Unharnessed pride
I try to force my mind to be
Filled with logic and certainty
But the wind blows
And all is swept onto the moors
Virolent no more
I hear the blackbird
I hear the church bell
I smell the wild flowers
I see the the field
the forest
The foaming waves
I Feel the forment
The yeast of the kingdom breathes
I kneel
This knowing is being not knowing
Like stacks of wooden sticks
Not used to burn a saint
Kindling to scorch the Nights of Doubt
In The Darkness There Is Light
Pure, Lovely Wondrous Sight
As Wide As the Heavens Above
As Deep As God’s Ocean Of Love
Majestic Gentleness
Almighty Kindness
Kingly Good
Noble Grace
How My Heart Longs To Dwell
Silent, Secure, Safe and Sure
In Holiness Like Nothing Known
Imagined Only With

By Bob Hitching
Within the quiet days of life
Unseen by those who live in death
My broken heart pours forth its strife
To mourn in pain God’s withheld breath
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine

Before the scent of hope divine
Why should I mourn I hear them cry
Embrace the night and learn to die
Gather leaves dried fallen love
Grasp what is yours from above
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine

Before the scent of hope divine
I fix my stare upon the noise
Of shallow graves of plastic truth
That cause bold man to play with toys
His quest alone to find new youth
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine

Before the scent of hope divine
What is this Gospel you declare
Learned technique words that you share
Quick Peace Quick Grace yet undisturbed
Your inward rotten self unheard
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine

Before the scent of hope divine
Stop the wheel this nonsense game
Withdraw your need to cast forth blame
Be still my mind seek all that’s rest
And hear God’s voice within your breast
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine

Before the scent of hope divine
You are beloved redeemed in Grace
It is His beauty that draws you home
To dwell within that sacred space
Unbroken undefiled shalom
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine

Before the scent of hope divine
The choice is yours this health embrace
No time for tears within the case
Made clear by love behind the veil
Hassidic beard beyond the Pale
No need for knowledge of the law
Walk in faith come through the door
Reject the lust of image made
Of Pixels crafted surgeons spade
To make you think that you have life
Beneath his stubborn haughty knife
Cast off the screen no more embrace
This spirit’s App this death filled space
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine

Before the scent of hope divine
Above the cares of mortal toil
Behind the hope within the soil
Beside the pilgrims steps of joy
Along the way true faith employ
Beneath the gaze of bread and wine
Before the scent of hope divine

by Bob Hitching
There is a place I go to flee from sin
A garden filled with flowers within
The everlasting arms of loving Grace
So precious when I fall to Satan's place
When self does rise to voice my right
And Calvary is blurred beyond my sight
Tis' in this garden I find the Holy Tomb
From death a wonder that flowers bloom
As sin sick soul is made to shine again
Cleansing, purging healing every stain
I cry in pain that such majestic love
should fall. Pristine power from above
Where is this place this garden so fine
Where beauty smiles like sun doth shine
It is in the valley of bones made dry by sin
Where withheld breath makes death within
A torrid place of horror consumed by hate
Satan's place of laughter his princely estate
Then why rejoice to come to such morbid place
Fear seems more the ethos of this space
The blood poured forth, the empty tomb
Ascended King who sends his breath
Turns satan's place no surety assume
To bring God's kingdom relief from death
Not a new and distant place
leaving creation-good to dwell in pain
thrust aside its value lost
Woe to this word
Woe to this lie
The Kingdom comes within usurper's place
Redeemed creation
Redeemed space
Made one in Holy merger
The garden filled with blooming flowers
Is where you are
Space made sacred by Royal blood
Is where you are
Earth Abandoned never
Is where you are


By Bob Hitching
From the smiling days of infancy when colour was not seen
To days of death that brought new ways of seeing he's unclean
Yancho Orshus sang the Blues but could not buy a band
so he tapped it out on wooden spoons his heart upon his hand
he sang this song to his grandma who would listen good or bad
For when Yanchi Orshus sang the blues the people they felt sad
He sang the blues in sadness
He sang the blues with tears
He sang the blues with gladness
he sang them through the years

I don't fear the skinhead with tattoos on his head
I don't fear the racist who left his brains in bed
I really fear the preacher whose doctrine's in a box
Whose skin tone must never match the colour of his socks
This preacher says he loves me he should tell it to the birds
He wants to take my picture more than listen to my words
He dangled money in my face then hid it in a cave
He wants my X mark on the box that tells him I am saved
He sang the blues in sadness
He sang the blues with tears
He sang the blues with gladness
he sang them through the years

The preacher knew the truth he said and Yanchi needs to prove
he could learn to tell the white boy tale put right here on youtube
So white boy preacher cleared his throat and sang his own song
He wanted all the world to know that Yanchi was all wrong
Yanchi's just a cigani whose heart is made of stone
he would sell his mothers liver if it helped him get a bone
He would not work if he had the chance he's lazy like a pig
He's better at making children so that welfare pays the gig
You can never trust a Cigan boy the Devil stole that power
He may pick you pocket he may steal whats in your tower
If Yanchi believes that Jesus whose skin is white and pure
This Cigans heart can be white inside, this prayer a magic cure
Pray this pray and stand with me whilst sacred selfies click
And if you put your X mark here I will buy you brand new bricks
Then Yanchi starts to cry as he sings the Blues again
Pouring out from in his heart is years of pent up pain
He sang the blues in sadness
He sang the blues with tears
He sang the blues with gladness
he sang them through the years

You see I am Yanchi Orshus and my job, sing the blues
To make my people know there are many other views
You see we Roma came from India where Jesus name was loved
Whilst white boys were eating raw meat and drinking blood
We sense the name of Jesus at the rising of the sun
But when we try to think like you it makes us wanna run
You hate all sacred symbols yet money is your god
We long to know our Lord Jesus but you beat us with a rod
And make us sing and dance to your new Plantation song
Then give us money if we smile ...White boy Preacher its all wrong
We must drink the love of Jesus from a cup that has his breath
A cup that's made of wood that comes from Slavery pain and death
You see Jesus understands us and meets us in our place
A love that has no margins and no borders to His Grace
He sang the blues in sadness
He sang the blues with tears
He sang the blues with gladness
he sang them through the years

So Yanchi sang the Blues all day and people they were sad
The Blues will make you face the truth news thats good or bad
But sitting in a corner were a little boy and girl
Yanchi's blues became to them the ringing of a Bell
where will they go together whilst listening to the bell
The leaders of an army that meet Jesus at the well
He gives them living water from a bucket made of wood
carved by slaves in chains from wood where Jesus he Stood
He sang the blues in sadness
He sang the blues with tears
He sang the blues with gladness
he sang them through the years


By Bob Hitching
May this year be filled with faith that's born within the eternal place of Light
Where the dark is fearful to trespass upon the soil of your renewed clear sight
as the image of God reflects with lovely joyful rays
of sunlight found within the vector of eternal days
Look up and see Mount Zion's splendour
City of God so strong and yet so tender
And......along the way
don't forget to play
not games of co-dependent noise
rather like children with lovely toys
May all your Toxic relationships be purged
death to all those guilt ridden cancerous words
Where the Accuser comes to talk of your past
To say there is no hope ever for you at the last
Begone the mocker
Go down all lies that spell
a law of works that smell
of crypto faith like worms
that dwell within the dung
sprayed with religious glaze
designed to cover death
from truly seeking eyes
May this year be filled with Joy that's real
Not the Facebook kind designed to steal
Your inward truth and by showing lies
in images designed to flirt with spies
May this year be filled with Love
Actions conceived and born above
where personal gain and sordid pride
are cast adrift upon loves ocean tide
May this year be filled with sustaining Peace
a heart set free from bondage. A full release
Where freedom reigns through inward Grace
That makes your heart and soul a sacred space

Bob Hitching
The night is cold as Judas turns to Kiss the Cheek of Messiah born
The twists and turns of love and greed his beard of honour shorn
The last thread of human dignity by stealth
Caught between two loves Money and Self
What fills the mind of traitor for whom thirty pieces of silver has torn
The only hope of life now lost, hangs himself upon the tree of scorn
The deed is done and he feels relentless guilt
Soon in shame The Holy Blood of God is spilt
He calls his mother's name to take his pain as in his childhood days
When his mortal sin was broken skin of friends in silly harmless play
His mother is silent
No voice is heard
No comfort given
Just a memory
The Dove of peace whose form appeared
And God's own voice from heavens heard
The splash of water that changed all things
Forever all made new, incarnate music sings
For you it was not enough
you needed something more
You chose you chose you chose
to seek the way of mammons path
But Judas your kiss
A Noose around your neck
Silver laying on the earth
as alone you die in perdition
set in stone
sealed in blood
satanic covenant made
with love of money and love of self
Your Kiss has sealed your place to be


By Bob Hitching
Broken joy like a window cracked
The light flows in their patterns make
twisted memories against me stacked
Is it really truth, they say I am a fake
But joy when broken allows the light
to dance in mystery in places now with stain
Light of Wholeness true, shines bright
But light creeps in between the gaps of pain
to nurture depth, compassion Grace
Broken, Holy and oh so humble space
I want to cry Mama but she is not there
I want to snuggle to a place made safe
But now in silence just a cold glassy stare
I am discarded like urchin, low class waif
No one knows the truth but she I call dear
Who holds me when the night draws in
whose words make plain, make life so clear
Whose eyes of love show me where I sin
To tired to fight to old to try to cry in pain
Softly the words of scorn they come again
I shout because I feel, I rage because I love
But silence greets the words no gentle dove
Are we caught between the welsh two nights
Darkness and death our very human blight
Remember my soul, the broken Joy
that lets the light through its cracks
You are man, reflecting man, no toy
No empty Box car no siamese cat
Man who lets the light of God
Shine in the cracks of broken soul
after life's long walk in sadness trod
sprinkles of wonder
hands full of magic
into the air
Not caring where their landing place
Because the Spirit moves in ways unknown
But always shining light through the cracks of pain

By Bob Hitching
Speak softly when the tide has turned
and loss of faith their soul has burned
When all the hopes and dreams have failed
Only fragments, remnants remain unassailed
Speak gently to the suffering heart
Who once was strong yet now has passed into the pale
who lays upon life's floor torn apart
In ways that only he who has been there can feel the gale
Twas once a gale but now a tempest brews
when all that was solid is now just mist
The canvas of life colours smudged in hues
the ship of life no longer strong but lists
Broken we are and tired and often drawn
Like old dry branches they crack and snap
Long nights of waiting and longing for dawn
to tear away the scales of night, a finger taps
Empty container by the wretched waste of greed
Soon to be filled with plastic trash
That comes from people who now can only bleed
As life with no warning does crash
Be Gentle with our modern man, walk softly as he lays
Speak peace to woman in shapes of image to display
As mother hen spreads out her wings in open longing love
To take the poor, oppressed as stranded timeless souls
Have ne'er to turn fearing they will burn as ashes in an urn
Speak softly and with gentle words bring
kindness not judgment
Love not rage
Spirit not law
peace not fear

By Bob Hitching
I long to know the power of love
That comes from inner place of quiet prayer
To touch the life of him above
Away from sounds that cast their shadows where
Sin abounds despite the Grace
I can not, will not, try to die to inward pride and sin
And find His love a resting place
A battle to be what He desires, I long for deep within
I long to be childlike innocent and pure
To know cleansing by His Blood the cure
Standing among sinners with their lies
Hold my peace, be kind and not despise
But I am man, unworthy filled with rage
Standing pointing in judgement on a stage
I claim the mantle is on my life to give excuse
But I know within, this will not break the noose
Hung around my neck by pride and tongue
Waiting in silence as I know I must be Hung
Yet a voice cries from without
A voice that raises to a shout
Stop the inward glaring stare
Look to Calvary for it is there
Your sin your pride you outer boast
Is covered be He who loves you most

By Bob Hitching
Judas the man filled with sin and malice
With Satan's breath kissed the Son of God
Grasping to take by force heavens palace
Rather finds Holy foot on head was trod
As victory for evil begins to dig its own grave
Homeopathic Blood is shed the world to save
Betrayal comes again in many forms, many ways
speaking lies claiming truth naive minds to play
Molten lava within the earth where image reigns
Is plastic profile become such foul deadly stains
What is it I cry about the flag and band
That seems to spawn the devils hand
As perfumed posteria deceives the bold
As truth itself is willingly exchanged, sold

ZWINGLI To the tune of Bohemian Rhapsody
By Bob Hitching
Mama, I just burned a man,
Put the sticks around his feet
Lit the wood and watched him weep
Oh Mama, now it’s hard
I guess I’m low and feeling down
no more Baptists left to drown
Oh Mama,
What Can I do, I need to bring Glory to our God
Taking God’s word to all the world
rid the earth of those who choose
to disagree with me they will loose
Oh Mama

By Bob Hitching
We would see Jesus who was God born as man
Worshipped by shepherds all part of Gods plan
He came to earth to save us and redeem us from sin
Destroy the Devil's work His new Kingdom begin

We would see Jesus who healed blind and lame
Welcoming sinners and healing mens shame
Loving the lonely the outcasts the poor
Making his life and love a wide open door

We would see Jesus who died on the tree
Suffering in agony that we would be free
All my transgressions my sin and my pride
I leave them for ever at His wounded side

We would see Jesus dead and laid in the grave
Raising to life again from death us to save
Breaking the chains of sin and making the way
For our resurrection on that coming great day

We would see Jesus seated upon Heavens Throne
Building His Kingdom now stone upon stone
Leading His Church today, His standard raise
Until all death is gone and all peoples praise

By Bob Hitching
Walk quietly through these streets of public pain
Judge not but in your silence feel their shame
Make no quick demands make no noisy claim
In wretched darkness listen for haunting rain
Speak softly now the night has made its claim
Upon memories tired and whose loss proclaim
Vanquished in the dark, life's cruel sadistic game
Hope laid ruined mocked by ever and unending hell
Looking for some way out
Some place to hide
Some home that's safe
Some cloistered wooded mossy hollow
I smell the earth 'tis clean and warm
A place to die in peace that's real
Smile instead and
Pray with gentle kindness
Listen with patience
Learn with love
And hold their withered hands with Joy
Light a candle
Sign the Cross
Kiss the cheek
Then utter words of hope
Gentle hope
Quiet hope
Solid hope
Hope that wins

By Bob Hitching
I can see him limping down the road
His name is White Boy Urban Green
He's lost but doesn't know it, dirty he thinks his clean
His world is made of virtual, his heart he thinks is gold
He goes to bed with earphones always miming something bold
He loves the whale, he hates injustice, He calls for equity
He buys the Post and and reads it with perfect sympathy
He's always fully committed to woman of his heart
Until a new one comes a long and he needs a brand new start
He prays to all the corners of the spirit world he knows
To Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, Grandma Buggins and Auntie Flo
He's sure there is a heaven he knows there are no hells
and he found God in the catalogue of saints with smells and bells
He's Gay and Straight he's boy and girl a mind beyond repair
He knows himself on Tuesdays but on Thursday he's in despair
On Monday he's vegetarian and Wednesday he eats meat
He's sober when convenient some times drunken in the street
He is you and I together He is all of us in one
he is your next door neighbour, your postman and your son
He is black and white and brown and red and yellow and in between
He is everywhere around us everywhere he can be seen

Helen of Troy
By Bob Hitching
The union of all that is frail and untouched
Tis you the woman whose name and Troy
Become as one yet belong not in bonded place
Why are we tempted and teased by knowledge
That can not be known
Become one with
Knowing as being
Did you go upon the horse of Paris
And hold his waste and rest your head upon his back
Or were you strapped and held with bands of bondage
Dragged against your will to be his plunder
Another Cresius plucked for lust alone
That we can not know
Yet somehow in the mist your face appears
Dante brother paints his Dante sister
With such tender gentle kindness
Your myth becomes another myth
Your smile tis grace unwoven like the clouds
That move with the softest of breath
Until the day is tired no more
And earth itself smiles towards the east