It's Time To Resurrect This

"There Are Too Many Saviours On My Cross"

A dramatic spoken reading written and performed by Richard
Harris on his album, "Slides" copyright 1971 by ABC Records.

This was written with regards to the fighting in Northern
Ireland which was particularly bloody around that time.
I think its application is much more universal.


There are too many saviours on my cross
lending their blood to flood out my ballot-box
with needs of their own.

Who put you there?
Who told you that that was your place?

You carry me secretly naked in your hearts,
and clothe me publicly in armour, saying
"God is on our side,"
Yet I openly cry
"Who is on My side? Who, tell Me who?
You who buried your sons and crippled your fathers
whilst you buried My Father in crippling His Son."

The antiquated Saxon sword, rusty in its scabbard of time,
now rises.
You gave it cause in My name,
bringing shame to the thorned head that once bled for
your salvation.
I hear your cries in the far-off byways, and your
mouth pointing north and south,
and my Calvary looms again, desperate in rebirth.
Your earth is partitioned but in contrition
it is the partition in your hearts that you must abolish.

You nightly watchers of Gethsemane,
who sat through my nightly trial delivering me from evil,
now, deserted, I watch you share your silver.
Your purse, rich in hate, bleeds my veins of love,
shattering my bone in the dust of the Boxside
and the Shaghill Road.

There is no issue stronger than the tissue of love,
no need as holy as the palm outstretched in the
run of generosity,
no monstrosity greater than the anger you inflict.

Who gave you the right to increase your fold while
decreasing the pastures of My flock?
Who gave you the right? Who gave it to you, who?
and in whose name do you fight?

I am not in heaven,
I am here, hear Me.
I am with you, see Me,
I am in you, feel Me,
I am of you, be Me,
I am for you, need Me.
I am all mankind, only through kindness will you reach Me.

What masked and bannered men can rock the ark
and navigate a course to their own anointed kingdom come?
Who sailed their captain to waters that they troubled
in My font, sinking in the ignorant seas of prejudice?

There is no virgin willing to conceive in the heat of
any bloody Sunday.
You children, lying in cries on Derry streets,
pushing your innocence into the full-flushed face of Christian guns,
battling the blame on each other,
Do not grow tongues in your dying dumb wounds speaking My name.
I am not your prize in your death,
you have exorcised Me in your game of politics.

Go home to your knees, and worship Me in any cloth,
for I was never tailor-made.
And who told you I was? Who gave you the right to think it?
Take your beads in your crippled hands.
Can you count My decades?
Take My love in your crippled hearts.
Can you count the loss?

I am not orange, I am not green,
I am a half-ripe fruit, needing both colors to grow into ripeness,
and shame on you to have withered my orchard!
I, in my poverty, alone and without trust,
cry shame on you and shame on you again and again
for converting Me into a bullet and shooting Me into men's hearts.

The ageless legend of My trial grows old, and the youth of your pulse,
staggering shamelessly from barricade to grave,
filing in the book of history My needless death one April,
Let Me in My betrayal lie low in My grave,
and you in your bitterness lie low in yours,
for our measurements grow strangely dissimilar.

Our Father, who art in Heaven, sullied be Thy Name!

All Australian Boys Need A Shed

We have had a busy week. Lots of things to do around the house. Tony is building a studio for himself up in a double garage we have.

As you enter our property, about 100 yards off the road, off to the right side we have a double garage that is extra long. Next there is Tony’s original shed, also double garage wide sized, then a path towards the back of that shed. Behind his original shed is my old art studio with a kindling wood shed attached to it. We use my old studio for storage. To the left of those sheds is an area where most of the fire wood is stored.

Past the path is a single garage that is actually yet another shed for Tony, also extra long. Here he repairs things and stores tools. Next to that is a small shed that is called ‘Lin’s Smell Works.’ I start plants there or strike cuttings. Tony has a small water tank attached to the back of that shed which lets me have a direct water source piped in to the shed.

These sheds don’t look like master pieces. Like many country Australian sheds they are put together with old timber Tony scavenged by tearing down other buildings. Windows we found at salvage yards suffice in these sheds. They are big and old and they let in loads of light.

Tony loves to restore old furniture that’s why he needs a clean area. The other sheds work for sculpting, carving and storage. This new area will allow him to work ‘clean’ and provide a special place for him to pursue his music.

One of the funny things I learned about Aussie men was that ‘all Australian men need a shed.’ In fact, I was told this. It amused me big time when I first got here. Then I realised that it is a big part of Aussie culture. A place where men can be men and women enter only on request. I don’t enter Tony’s sheds unless he requests my presence. He generally stays out of my studio in the house and my ‘nurturing shed’. He does need to enter the studio when he wants a DVD or video or book as I have them all on this humungous bookcase he built me. It takes up a full wall and I need a ladder to get to the top. Lol.

On top of Tony building his new shed we are completing what I like to call, ‘Our work in progress.’
This is our home. It started out as a small cottage.
Every nail has been hammered in to it by my husband.
One it consisted of two bedrooms a living room/dining area and a small kitchen. One bathroom and an exterior laundry shed.

Now you enter into a huge enclosed barbie area. Loads of windows bring the outside in. The floors are oak and walls are pine. There are two doors leading inside. One leads to the sunroom. A huge entertainment type area with loads of windows and two sets of French double doors. The back doors lead to a small deck which leads to a lovely little laundry with it’s own deck. The second set of French doors leads into the main part of the house. We have a dining table that seats 10 out there, a couch and chairs. It is a really lovely place to entertain. No TV out there. Just a stereo system and cds galore.

The main part of the house consists of a kitchen
I love, small dining area for just the two of us, living room, study/bedroom, master bedroom, and my studio which is also really a bedroom. There is also a bathroom with a mural by yours truly, shower/bath etc…

Most of the floors are oak with area carpets, one area is real tile in Santa Fee colors, and the walls are pine. There are vaulted ceilings and loads of color. We have exposed beams. It is a comfortable sprawly kind of place. We are comfortable sprawly kind of people and it suits us. This place wouldn’t suit everyone. You need some imagination and creative bent to enjoy it.

I have brass plates, copper, pewter, original paintings and photography on the walls. Our kitchen has Cyprus pine counter tops. A pain to keep clean sometimes but I love them.

The house is built with love and imagination. Nothing traditional about it. We love it because we have built it together after Tony’s initial structure. It has taken 11 years to make it what it is now.

The property is landscaped but more in the cottage garden style. Lots of trees. All kinds. Most of it is left for the wildlife to thrive in. There are just under 6 acres. It is a little slice of heaven.

As much as we love this place it is too much work now. Tony has Chron’s Disease. He takes it a day at a time. It won’t kill him but it has changed his ability to work flat out. Raised his frustration level. I have a permanent problem with my foot that can’t be corrected and limits me from wandering as I once did.

It breaks my heart but once we finally have the place exactly as we imagined we are going to have to sell.
It’s now a fact of life.