In Chelsea Old Church

In Chelsea Old Church

(December Evensong: 12 Haiku)

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In Chelsea Old Church

At Evensong on Sunday

I hope, pray, repent

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For the coming year’s

Dates – work, duties, dreams – love’s loose

Change of comings, goings:

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I’m not quite sure who

My confusion of spirits

Would be praying to

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Jesus seems quite far

Our Father even farther,

Holy Ghost most lost

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In faith that is ours

To find by quaint disbelief’s

Dark dusty corners

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Darknesses of this

Church’s memorialised pasts

Framing spaces where

A handful of us

Sit, stand, kneel, sing and mumble

In twilit hangovers

There’s darkness that turns

As the world turns its seasons round

To joy and gladness

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In the shadows, clouds,

Disintegration delights

Dismantling sadness

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In meadows, poppies,

Gardens by the Thames that bloom

Long centuries long

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Before Thomas More

Prayed, sang here with Erasmus

Wisteria grew

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On the Embankment –

Once a low shore – cars now crawl

Past flowers, me and you.

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Omm

Note: This poem describes a time when I lived down the road from Chelsea Old Church, along Cheyne Walk, where what is now a busy road on the Embankment (the A3212) was a sleepy village shore in Sir Thomas More and Erasmus’ time. More worshipped (and was upbraided for singing) in the church and added a chapel to the south or river-side of the building which, unlike the rest of the church, survived World War II bombing. The church was rebuilt in the 1940s, retaining many of its original features and fixtures – it’s a powerfully atmospheric place.

I used to join Evensong regularly to contemplate the week ahead.

This year, most services have been cancelled – I hope they will soon be able to reconvene, and these twelve haiku (one for each Christmas Day) are humbly dedicated to that outcome.

The painting is by Henry Pether (1800-1865). His father and brother were also painters, known as the “Moonshine Pethers” for their addiction to the hooch and liquors they illicitly brewed in seedy stills on the banks of the river moonlit scenes.

Another of my poems with links to this part of London, Ghosts of Cheyne Walk, was published here last year.

My upcoming book, Migrant Shadows – Sicilian Haiku, will be published by Mad Bear Books in early 2021 – with all profits going to support refugees.

ghosts of cheyne walk

one night in London

I saw the ghost of a child

behind my old house

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dressed all in white

from another century

in the basement well

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I watched a while

– she was absorbed in herself –

diffusing through light

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a veil of darkness

her little body lit up

void translucent shades –

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face expressionless,

quite absent, as if her spirit

had drained her hereness

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flowing past in light

like the sun’s in moony night

shining chimera –

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I could not read her

state nor story from her looks:

she stayed still, mute, slight,

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radiating calm

acceptance between us. I waved –

then went up to bed.

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next night, another

ghost came through the bathroom wall

into the sitting room

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whilst I sat talking

with my ex-girlfriend’s mother

sure I was mad, drunk

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visions and sirens

called me, but maybe it was

the ghost of our love

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the evening after

I’d seen that blank ghost daughter

in not to be light.

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Omm

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freddie omm’s Sicilian Haiku, published by Mad Bear Books in September 2024, also features ghostly presences, albeit in Sicily, not London.