Joshua Emboldened
Poetry
Joshua Emboldened
This poem is deliberately provocative.
It gives a voice to the voiceless,
recognises that lives matter,
that sexuality is very much a part of every community,
and is many-faceted,
rendering specific religious texts from all sources irrelevant,
renders the clichés LGB, LGBTQ and QLGT already a last-century concept…
It takes, though,
a very, very long time
to evolve into normality.
Evolution is constant and ongoing.
The portraiture, too, is deliberately set on the jawline
in memory of the painting that once hung high up above my head
in my apartment in Liverpool,
out of sight of the tongue waggers
but always viewable by me, and home for more than twelve years on the city’s Waterfront.
My home was an apartment on a 999 year lease in a Grade One Listed Warehouse built by French soldiers and sailors awaiting repatriation after Waterloo.
Hence the name ~ Waterloo Warehouse.
The painting is now in the ownership of my closest friends,
beautifully and, yes, discreetly displayed in Lancashire
away from the tongue waggers.
To the reader who might be asking what this means,
try and imagine hiding the portrait of your spouse or partner
for fear of backlash.
Composed in 2011 and Updated October 2025
In defiance
His desire is to serve men.
To impress upon them their superiority.
He does so knowing that he is no underling.
Those days have gone.
He is powerful and sexual.
His sexuality and sensuality
Are the sum total
Of his Uniqueness,
His Universality,
His Appeal to older men.
In his four decades
human nature has testified
its many faceted assemblage.
He is confident,
Aware,
Wise,
Mindful of that old dictum
Man’s Inhumanity to Man
He understands and delights
in the respect given to older men.
He delights in them.
He knows it is his task.
His duty.
His role.
His gift.
He delights in opening up himself
Observing silken thighs
Gleaned and gorgeous
Smooth
And leading into the entry
To his inner being.
He is the delight of men
And he delights in men.
He thrives on their intercession
Through their semen
Their essence
Their glory.
And he in turn gives his essence
And empowers men.
He is the master of his fate
He holds the key to diplomacy
Denied many - granted to few,
And he has that key.
Its name is Choice.
He observes his life,
He recalls the past,
To things that went awry,
To writing off men in light of youth,
And hurting souls of men his elders.
Now he teaches them.
He leads by example.
And young men look to him
To see how he turned loathing into love.
But hearken well this warning.
His eyes range throughout the earth
Searching out those men and women
Who would do, and indeed do
Terrible things
to Children, Young People,
Men and Women.
In the night hour
these perpetrators catch only
a glimpse…
Wings, to them dark and menacing,
Death passing over.
He is without mercy.
What did That Person say?
Whoever harms these children,
these little ones,
For these criminals
It would have better
that they had not been born.
They will not survive the wrath awaiting them.
Nor can they seek refuge in eternal death.
No.
For them, Oblivion.
Constantly aware
but without any means of communication.
No way back.
This, he determines, is his life’s purpose.
His Universe is his Sexuality
His Sexuality thus provides his Sensuality
His gift back to the Universe is his Sexuality
And thus he becomes
Complete
Whole
Humble
Beautiful
Above all, he holds firm his Faith.
Aware of a Shimmering,
He is aware, too, that
Nature is Supreme.
He can easily see The Higher.
He can readily reach out
and touch the extended hand,
the soft evening breeze-like touch of the Hand
The charge emanating therefrom
and through him
From the Creator.
He stands on the front,
The tide almost hypnotic below him,
The occasional taste of salt on his lips
Salt cleanses him.
His mindset is firm.
One day, I know not when,
I shall from death return to life …
that Quantum Leap.
Ian Bradley Marshall
Liverpool
5 December 2011
All Rights Reserved
LIVERPOOL
© 2011 Ian Bradley Marshall
Digital Artwork by IBM unless otherwise credited
Updated by me, IBM, 26 October 2025
Liverpool
Merseyside
Underground Pool
There is no fear here
Underground Pool
There is light
Underground Pool
I look upon the heart, not upon the
outward appearance
Underground Pool
Passing Overhead
In the night hour
these perpetrators catch only
a glimpse…
Wings, to them dark and menacing,
Death passing over.
Underground Pool
Here, we have freedom
Eyes that range throughout the Universe
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.
