The herd winds slowly home,
Nose to tail, unthinking! lost,
Frustration the daily grind
Staring and more dull staring,
Unquestion!
The reports come in,
Collection of incidents,
All roads blocked, all routes crawl,
Times have been better,
The short lived excitement of the clear run
Now lane swap looking for the extra yard
Attrition of the modern motorway
Trench warfare system.
Veneer of self determination
The traffic jam goes nowhere in a hurry and that is life.
the deep twilight
stillness before the night
millennium of silence
I hear the silent piano,
inarticulate virtuosity
played only for one soul.
Masterclass in deep relaxation,
as the mind escapes
the tempo falls and rises.
Sharp
Harmony injected into my shoulders
Pummel,
I can feel my face swelling up
Pounding
Nearly cry out
Chop
The futility holds me back
Relentless
Will this never stop?
Knead
Not sure I want it to end
Explosions
Naked, open fields, expose to the elements
Ripple,
Wave upon wave, carried in upon the wind
Deafening
Initially my eyes screw up but I learn to
Relax
We fear the shadows,
not for what lurks there
but for what we might do
if we wore that cloak.
The chilling Vaudeville mask,
fixed in constant mockery,
gives echo to our own hollow laughter,
gives mirror to our cynical eyes.
Behind the opaque glass of bureaucracy
we stand ready to pass judgement,
emboldened to a thousand anonymous noes,
yet troubled as we take our turn in line.
We might stifle a shudder
as the new bill is passed into law
but who would raise a voice
against the promise of security we all crave?
Tomorrow’s breakfast news announces
that we are the silent enemy within,
confirming our suspicions,
and so we nod obediently in guilty approval.
A pen takes pause before
it can confess to the unwritten page,
lest it note down some truth
and leave its author to apologise later.
Then, as each darkened screen comes to life,
relegating shadows to a corner of the room,
a bright young thing appears in High Definition,
insisting that she is heard.
“We have had enough of question time
and doubts that drive us into our neighbours’ homes,
over our colleagues’ shoulders,
merely to attend to our own insecurities.”
Beneath studio lights she continues
“The answers are all here – not there”,
gesturing from around her
toward the panel and their darkening faces.
“If I watch over your shoulder, but from the front
as you watch over mine –
or if we are back to back, even –
how should we ever be defeated?”
“Only if I turn my eyes,
look with suspicion at your heel
and cause you to mistrust my care,
then will we be caught unaware.”
“We were ever connected –
only the medium is new,
and that is poor excuse to warrant disconnection,
promote uncertainty, doubt and division.”
“Our community is stronger than ever,
in size and scope and skill
and we will support each other openly,
without need for dark places and closed doors.”
Applause like a hundred shuttered windows opening,
echoed by many thousand fingers typing,
is signal that a switch
has taken place.
The social networks are set ablaze;
a shared vision begins to form,
of mutual ownership at the speed of light,
rendering private fears into obsolescence.
We fear the shadows,
we act like strangers,
and then the daylight comes.
Be Bold:
the World is hungry for you
and those ideas will
eat you up inside
otherwise
Take Heart:
you may have planted
a thousand unfruitful seed
yet one will be plenty,
should it grow,
and it will grow, mightily,
lifting you with it.
Keep planting.
Be Brave:
snuff the tiny voice in you
that squeals
“I can’t…”
“..but..”
“..but..”;
it is killing you.
Dare.
Dare and we all win;
it’s not difficult –
you just find it too easy
to think it so.
There’s enough of you to go around,
and so
give it away;
your gift is meant for others –
that which is not consumed
becomes stale,
an unseemly ornament.
Reach out:
many a dream
requires a touch from another’s hand
before
it can be grasped.
Relish
your friend’s victories –
they taste sweeter than your own;
you have your reward already:
you feel alive again.
Unite
your passions,
your will,
your friends and well-wishers, all;
you will not fail.
Defy
the odds,
the naysayers,
the obstacles and unknowables;
your success will become certain
in time.
And so
Be Bold,
my friend:
it speaks of who you are
and everything you will yet become.
I can hear the 2nd movement of “Allegro Handel sonata as dur” resonating through the house, filling every corner with the rich flowing sound of trumpet. Glass of wine in hand I lean back, eyes shut, and soak it in. It is a particular source of pride. No CD, no MP3, just real live son in action.
Speeded up 5 x by mistake – tis by such flukes that great discoveries are made. This isn’t one of them but someone might want to confirm the bird species?
I have woken up
We sit obediently in rows
Occupied with our own musings
Watching the map of a flight path
That moves too slowly
Eagerly anticipating every small change
Frankfurt, Mainz, Bonn Cologne
Staring ahead at the curtains that separate
The poor from the privileged occupants
Of the business class cabin
The duty free trolley makes it’s way
Pushed by stereotypes
Aachen, Eindhoven, Utrecht, Brussels,
One hour to go and the drinks trolley
Interrupts the monotony
It is a disappointment.
I wonder if the man and woman
Sat next to me are a couple
They both have the same ebook reader
But have not said a word to each other
He orders a Ginger ale and sits there in contemplation
Watching the bubbles
Something to do, reads the list of ingredients
And squeezes the last drops out of the can
Looks a bit like Lenin.
The English channel finally appears on the map
And I can see good old Norwich
Looks a beautiful cloudless day out there,
I miss the Internet connection
We are cocooned, insulated from the world
Revolutions and tsunamis go unnoticed
Their ripples do not reach thirty thousand feet
Dinners burn and children scrape their knees but we are oblivious
And completely unfocussed,
Lives revolve around new major decisions
Shall I get up to go to the toilet?
Is there a queue?
Man reads his book
Having memorized the inflight magazine on the outward journey
Bruges, Dunkerque, NORTH SEA,
Upper case copied faithfully from the monitor
147 miles to go, thats downhill
My ears pop and the couple have a nuzzle
He whispers something and she laughs
Two little girls watch a movie on what looks like an iPad
Open mouthed, blue and pink headsets
That keep the rest of us thankfully ignorant.
The captain pushes the joystick forward
Assuming they still have joysticks in commercial airlines
I imagine he is reliving the old days in the RAF,
Take her down Caruthers, enemy fighters at one o clock
My ears pop again and I wonder what book she is reading.
I will never find out. Also I don’t want to be disappointed
I don’t want to find out it is some trash novel, or highbrow history
Which would reveal something about her.
After three hours of non communication I want her to remain mysterious
Rush hour at Heathrow and we are in a holding pattern
30 minutes to landing
Aaah I looked, the book is called Bone Magic
Will have to look it up later
We bank again as the plane flies in circles
Eeeeoooww dakadakadaka got him that time Biggles
The fields down below are green squares
I see no plane plummet, plume streaming from punishing
Machine gun bullets fired by ace pilot
Perhaps they can see it out of the other windows
No matter
The nose lifts up slightly as the captain tries to hold her
The muscles on his face tense as he fights the G forces
Beads of sweat appear and the stewardess arrives with a flannel to mop his brow.
Ooh you are brave captain!
He regains control and the aircraft gets back on an even keel
The passengers all cheer and a woman names her baby after him
Someone on the row in front adjusts the air jet above their head
And the kids movie appears to have ended because
Juvenile American accents are now to be heard
Down below rows of ordered red bricks appear
Suburbia disappears in scattered cloud
I don’t suppose they are both reading the same book.
Newspaper read by man in front “Septic Sepp, FIFA in scandal”
I don’t want to know, I am in a cocoon dammit
Their model of ebook is called a nook.
Will have to look that one up
Probably a BOGOF or maybe 50% off the second if purchased at the same time, I don’t know
Woman on the other side of the aisle cuddles bloke
The daylight indicator on the map shows we are approaching the middle of the day.
Casablanca, Alexandria, food for thought, fuel for the imagination
Close those eyes and picture the palm trees. No breeze so no swaying although occasionally a coconut is heard dropping to the desert sand
God its hot
Ahah, cabin crew ten minutes to landing!
The plane perks up and the toilet facilities are no longer available
Remaining drinks containers (ok plastic ups) are collected
And I have to switch off…
The eagle has landed
BA675 non stop Istanbul to London Heathrow, 3rd July 2011
“Staff Only” ,
Door opens,
Team strides out,
Bag in hand,
Insulated travel mugs
Primed and ready to go,
That look of purpose,
Professionals with a job to do,
A train to drive,
Tickets to check,
The driver guard combo,
Immaculate turnout.
Passengers look on,
Couple with pink expanding suitcase,
Unshaven old man in grey suit,
Black Labrador dog at his side,
Make no comment,
Nothing registers.
I check my phone for messages.
The June sun brightens up the morning and
The train pulls in to platform 3
My thoughts are like fish with every scale filled.
My bright ideas twinkling on and off,
Sometimes remembered sometimes forgot,
New thoughts old thoughts fill my brain.
Some shimmering fishes fall asleep and don’t wake up,
Others dance and prance to not be forgotten
Alright yezzer, not much luck this morning though them Polish fellers caught a few bucketloads from the top of the breakwater. I don’t know what they do with them. Must sell em somewhere I guess. I don’t really mind whether I catch anything or not really. I just like being here.
In the debris of tomorrow
i will find you
and lift you from the dust
In the debris of tomorrow
i will gather gems you lost
and take them with us
In the debris of tomorrow
we will learn our value
and barter ‘gainst our worthless toys
In the debris of tomorrow
we will taste again
amongst the the dispossessed
In the debris of tomorrow
we will kiss scorched earth
and plant a new life there
In the debris of tomorrow
things that made us cry
will appear small amidst the tumult
In the debris of tomorrow
we will leave fear behind
and press onward through the dark
In the debris of tomorrow
fierce realities
will not part my hand from yours
In the debris of tomorrow
we will take a different path
In the debris of tomorrow
one good shoe
will fetch a thousand shillings
In the debris of tomorrow
iron and sweat
become politic
In the debris of tomorrow
magic and science
will be allies again
In the debris of tomorrow
forgotten tools
will regain their edge
In the debris of tomorrow
i will be your shield
and you will be my heart
In the debris of tomorrow
we will build a home for future kings
In the debris of tomorrow
honest friends
will be all we can afford
In the debris of tomorrow
there will be much to do;
we will have no time for sorrow
In the debris of tomorrow
faint-hearted sun will start;
the faded moon will close
In the debris of tomorrow
will we find god?
will god find us?
In the debris of tomorrow
there will be more questions than answers
In the debris of tomorrow
is kindness and hope
coated in soot and hunted for dinner
In the debris of tomorrow
is our untainted love
and a catch at a fleeting chance
In the debris of tomorrow
we will prevail
In the debris of tomorrow
is another day
