Questions

Why are we here and not somewhere else?

Could we be somewhere else at the same time as being here?

What is time anyway?

Why do we only experience time in a forward linear direction? 

Where has yesterday gone?

Can we really know nothing?

Does nothing exist?

Should we be moral?

Do acts of kindness have a motive?

Is God a 'he?'

If there is a God, why does he allow suffering, 

and why does he not intervene when evil takes root?

If God was a 'she', wouldn't she make a better job of it?

Is the most important purpose in life to find happiness?

Have we become less happy in this age of technology?

Who determined that "apple" meant apple and not raspberry? 

How can people believe in something without evidence?

Why do we trust our senses? 

Why do we assume the universe operates on logical laws; rather than chaos and that our perception of reality is true?

Why does humanity exist at this specific point in cosmic time?

Is the 'red' I see the same 'red' you're looking at?

Why do we assume there is a purpose to life?

Are happiness and love just certain chemicals flowing through your brain or is it something more?

Is there inherent order in nature or is it all chaos and chance?

Is it better to be respected or liked?

Is nothing something?

Are humans obliged to better themselves?

Why do we perceive ourselves as the same person over a life-time?

Is having a big ego a negative or positive trait?

Do we really have free will?

Does life require a purpose and goal?

Would you kill 10 people to save 100?

Is it easier to love or to be loved?

Where do thoughts come from?

Does evil come from within? If so, why?

Where were people before they were born?

How does gravity actually work?

Can achieving nothing make a person happy?

Does the law of attraction exist?

What is the voice in our heads and where does it come from?

Does observation alter an event?

If everyone spoke their mind, would the world be a better place?

What if there were two parallel universes?

Where does the universe end and; why?

Why does it always rain at the weekend?

And why don't you like plum jam?

Stable Roots

​I have no religion.

I’ve dabbled - Paganism for instance.

I like the idea of many gods

divinity in all things

Earth cycles

a soul living in every natural object - but I think religions are a bit like a "club"

and I am not a good "club" person,

so I stay clear of them.

​My faith is just how I was brought up

put simply; who I am

that is - within the love of a small family group.

My parents were only children

there were no aunties, 

no cousins

no sprawling branches

just stable roots.

I was surrounded by love and support

​I met my Great-Gran; 'Ada'.

She lived to be 99!

I have a photo including her complete with the then; whole of my family - these are my people,

this is my religion

my brothers

my parents

my grandparents

and of course; 'Ada'.

These people made me who I am.

They are my guiding principles.

​My upbringing wasn’t clouded by religious structure

religious boundaries

rituals or controls - unless you call love a "structure,"

unless you call warmth and togetherness; "boundaries."

I am grateful for what I have,

no amount of beliefs could have given me anything more.

​These principles I have passed onto my children

the fact that they will never have nothing - they will always have family

and family is their roots.

My children look out for each other,

in them, 

I see the love I had.

I see hope,

and most importantly,

I see that they have faith in each other.

(Haiku)

A cars speed goes up - 

or down, but the miles covered only goes one way!

Paris - The paper planes I launched

​A silhouette against a summer sky,

a textbook come to life

there beyond the car’s window -

filling the gaps in the vocabulary of a schoolboy’s French,

the reality of a schoolboy’s dream

Paris, there in front of me.

​The waiting ended.

Adulthood arrived with my brown suitcase and a choice

the freedom to finally make the step.

She was the opportunity,

my summer love,

the then "love of my life,"

and when she asked,

there was only one answer.

​I went - and I stayed,

trading the distant view for a typical Parisian apartment.

Up past the watchful eye of a concierge,

a winding staircase,

a simple room tucked under the eaves - a possible location for love to bloom.

​Living the Parisian dream,

fed by the scent of the nearby patisserie

and the occasional "two-franc" bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau,

the vintage matching our happy, naive age.

Happy; with the quiet courtyard below

and the paper planes I made to throw into the park below,

taken by the breeze - like the love for the girlfriend who brought me to this place,

love now a ghost from a previous chapter.

​This city stayed inside me,

claiming the space she left behind.

I stayed - with time enough to walk the streets,

to cement the memories

to which I often returned -returning to stand in the very park beneath that apartment window,

looking up to where the paper planes once caught the air.

​The paper planes I launched

are all long since gone,

leaving my heart still up there,

hovering over the rooftops,

always waiting for the next time.

Family Photo

Look at that photo.

This family is my family

The mirror,

that mirror now shares more than my reflection

hung on my wall it holds the light of those who are now long departed 

the silver backing 

the curve of its glass 

displayed the faces of those I love.

The warming pan stands sentry in the corner,

the heavy copper weight of the pan

​that I now have 

stood in my dinning room 

the curtains I looked in through as an adult

hoping for something familiar 

waiting for the past to snap back into place - but it didn't 

the air there now is different

the space is occupied by other people's memories 

instead of the warmth of my loved ones.

 

​If I could reverse time

might I just sit amongst the familiar hub-bub of an afternoon

watching the dust dance in the soft light,

listening to the cadence of those familiar voices 

the ones I hear in my sleep

feeling the solid reality of being

a small part of something greater

​mentioning nothing of the years to come

not warning them of the fading times ahead

just to simply be there

a witness again

to this orchestrated moment 

this day where everyone was there.

​Time is a road

long enough for some; not long enough for us

a road I've marked on a map

which I carry in my heart

its destination is now the stars

the stars I look up at

like the mirror I look into

the same mirror they looked into

and for a heartbeat - I feel them there.

Our Own Gilded Cage

We spend a lifetime 

feathering our nests

layering it with comforts and warmth,

selecting the perfect colours

all set-off with the hum of the technology the modern world demands.

We build this sanctuary only to pay handsomely to leave it,

because ​an algorithm suggests it's what we'd like.

It knows our age

and that we are comfortable in life

and thinks we could afford it - but it doesn't know us.

It feeds us a dream we don't want

of clear blue waters 

an idealistic, 

remote and off-grid log cabin,

a detox  - like the world we've carefully curated is now a mill-stone 'round our necks

"Get away from it all," is the message - but is this not our nest,

our world

the very air we have chosen to breathe?

​What bizarre luxury we have,

to find our own success

deemed to be inappropriate,

claustrophobic,

even insufficient!

Some - those living out on the streets

the ones failing to even find a nights sleep

lucky to find an uncomfortable sofa 

a friend of a friend of a friend 

those with nothing to escape from

those with only their rucksack and a list of failing options

they aren't looking for a dreamy horizon - more just the four walls we - the fortunate ones 

are told we are so desperate to flee from!

Maybe ​this exit is thrown at us

because they know we’ve forgotten how to inhabit

the prison we have created for ourselves.

Perhaps the "away" we crave isn't a coordinate, 

a location,

nor a perfect sunny coastline,

more a break from thinking - the restless mind that builds a world 

high in the clouds

then dies

starved due to its lack of oxygen - the beautiful reality it finally won,

killing it!

We just might be the architects of our own gilded cage - one that follows us wherever we go.