Uniquely human


The chief function of poetry



Ok, not the most upbeat subject for a Friday, but one does not pick and choose when these things come.



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Emily Dickinson

I finished reading a selected work of Emily Dickinson’s poems. She wrote over 1800 poems in her lifetime, although only a handful were published while she still breathed. I found it helpful to read about her and then read her poems. The understanding of who she was as a poet helped inform her poetry at least to me. Armed with this new information, I will have to reread the collection and maybe add a few more to my library as well. I also bought her letters, which look like an interesting read.

I like reading in the first person, especially confessional novels, travel literature, poems, letters, personal essays. Im empathetically sensitive and find reading in first person allows me to build a deeper rapport with the writer, to feel what they felt.

Poetry is coming alive for me again. Why deny my affections?


Going back to uni

I took the boy back to uni yesterday. In fact, both kids went back to uni. Brit to study for her finals of her first year and Devon to finish his final module and prepare for his last show before graduation.

I remember when graduation day was approaching for me. We were super excited. We had spent the prior 4 years virtually living in a kind of benign prison full of rules and regulations and discipline. And with anticipation of our last day behind the wall, we could barely contain our excitement. We would finally get to be free.

Where we sacrificed the party atmosphere and freedom of a regular university, we gained a sense of purpose and walked straight into the job we had been preparring for four years. No job hunt for us. No uncertainty about finding employment. Not like our counterparts at civvie street university. They had to write resumes and go on job interviews and fight to get a job most likely not related to their degrees.

I wonder what life will be like for both our kids. They have all of the lifecycle ruth and I have travelled to come. Making a life.

How do you make a life that’s fulfilling? I can’t help but think that that is the question that led me astray. Perhaps it would have been better to ask different set questions, less philosophical and more practical.

I got trapped inside my own head.

I decided yesterday that I really do need to add aerobic excessive to my fitness routine. But I certainly don’t feel like running. It just seems to destroy my knees and if I’m not cafeful, my Achilles tendon. I decided I’d give cycling a go again. In Germany, for a time, I had become an avid cyclist/mountain biker (which is what I really liked). And a few years ago I bought a new mountain bike after I finished a long gruelling contract at Homeserve, with the intention to ride a lot, but somehow never did.

And now I want to return to the saddle to get my aerobic conditioning. 

I only road for 2.3 miles yesterday, but it seemed to take a good whack out of me. The good thing about being bone tired at night when I go to bed is that I sleep very solid and sound. So much so that I end up waking up at 3:30 am fully rested. Of course, I then have to fight to get back to sleep least I throw off my whole sleep patterns for the day.


Just another wormy hell

So it’s the start of the weekend. I actually have a couple hours more of work to do before I call it a day. I’m jumping between two projects. One is building a learning portal with my good friend and CFO Steve Davies of Clarity4D. The other is a creative project i’ve launched on Instagram. I’ve been inspired to return to writing poetry. I recently caught wind of the vibrant poetry community growing on Instagram and I want to be a part of it.

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If you’re a regular reader of this blog, i’m sure you’ve notice the poetry related posts beginning to seep in. And if you’re a long-term reader of the blog you’ll know that this is a return to form.

Completely on a tangent here, but i’m being blown away by Roy Hargrove on the trumpet. If you haven’t heard this guy before, check him out. It’s like the perfect kind of jazz to groove to while writing.

So yes, you’ll be seeing more poetry here, both my normal stuff (short prose poems) and some more experimental stuff. We’ll see how it goes.

This morning I was thinking about the fear we live in. And how most of that fear is a product of conditioning by a system designed to keep us subjugated through the application of fear in the most subtle and insidious of ways.

For example:

– The fear that we aren’t achieving enough.
– The fear that we aren’t good enough.
– The fear that we aren’t smart enough.
– The fear that we aren’t rich enough.
– The fear that we aren’t thin enough.

And the list could go on and on. In most cases no-one is brow beating you with this stuff. It’s just sewn into the fabric of our society. You see it on your TV. You hear it from your teachers and your so called superiors. You see it on the cover of the magazines you read or pass by in the shops. It’s in the books you read and the news you watch. It’s on your Facebook feed and the tweets you read. And it’s in the stories we tell each other.

It’s all around us.

And we really don’t question it that much. We accept it as par for the course of being human. The problem as I see it, is that we kill ourselves to be rid of the fear by satisfying the false conditions to make the fear go away. So I’ll work longer and harder to achieve more. I’ll starve myself to be thin enough to count. I’ll work more to earn more at the expense of my friends and family just for a shot at being relevant.

I wonder what it would be like to not be covered in this fear? Too live a life of pure joy. Pure joy being the absence of all of these fears, in which we can do something for the sake of itself with no attachment to outcomes, but as an expression of love.

I know that’s not how the system is designed, but it’s sometimes fun to fantasize about a fear free system.

Anyway such talk isn’t meant for Friday afternoons. It’s time to start thinking about beer and pizza, my friends. So…



your voice



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