HOW NOT TO WRITE #1

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YOU KNOW IT’S THE WRITE WAY

WOODEN

We live our lives, but is it true,
the way we behave, me and you?
Do we have the choices to make,
or is it just one big fake?
We live in a world of consumer choice,
but images of this and that, they foist
upon our minds to get us to buy,
this and that, you can’t deny;
Things are made for ever and ever,
risking nature’s splendid endeavour;
providing for our every need,
or is it just our insatiable greed?
But have you noticed we’ve become all the same,
society and people becoming lame,
with wooden lives and wooden hopes,
Oh, we really have become dopes,
with wooden needs that affect our health,
and wooden ambition grounded in wealth,
as we’re all left on, the wooden shelf

(c) Anthony North, May 2008

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A TRANSFORMING PEN

Variations of just four letters make up the entire genetic code of DNA. Everything that can be in terms of biology – the total diversity of life – is captured in so few little letters. But life is more than DNA. It is also mind.
And mind is expressed best through variations of the letters in the alphabet. In the English alphabet, that is 26. So just imagine how much greater the variety there is at the writer’s fingertips?
From pen to keypad, writers transform what is in the mind, to paper or screen. A unique alchemy occurs, making thoughts real. But the writing process does not end there.

No, it is far more magnificent.

Looking at the history of the world, whenever a major transformation occurs, you can usually find a book. From the Bible, to Marx’s Das Kapital, to Newton’s Principia, transformation is the result of literary endeavour, whether good or bad.
They say the pen is mightier than the sword. Nothing is more true. And as writers, we belong to the most noble of crafts. So as we write, we should remember this, and be happy in our endeavour. For we deal with the true code of life.

© Anthony North, May 2008

TRANSFORMATION

You think it through, you write it out,
a majestic craft, there is no doubt;
a person will read, planting a seed
of change that will never recede;
His actions are imbued by your word,
coming first, and never second or third;
Your thoughts are out in society,
made real, made true, growing just like a tree;
the thought branches out, noble and great,
defining other people’s fate,
as through your mind, your pen, your quill,
you transmit, to all, your will,
as your noble craft,
you do fulfil

(c) Anthony North, May 2008

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IN SEARCH OF HAPPINESS

To be happy is the goal of us all. But is this a viable state? Indeed, is it really what being human is about? Or does the state of happiness just allow us to be complacent about things?
Looking to human history it seems clear to me that things only change when people are frustrated. This is, of course, a state of unhappiness, and drives change. Hence, you could say that the process of social evolution requires us not to be happy.

This seems a depressing picture, indeed.

However, it need not be. Existence is not only about our advancement. It is also about our contentment. And whilst this is counter to things in terms of society and history, it is certainly achieveable in love.
Love seems to provide stability in happiness. It is nurturing, and as long as complacency doesn’t enter the picture, it is the engine of family life, a definite counter-balance to the ravages of society and history. So this thing called happiness seems to be a multi-faceted thing.
Indeed, I think we can even be happy with our frustrations. I’ve written before that it is often a journey in life that is more important than its conclusion. For once complete, what then?
We are, as a species, curious about everything. We have a desire to know, and in wanting to know, we are driven on, thus confirming social evolution, and being happy with our frustrations.

© Anthony North, May 2008

THE FAR SPACE EXPERIENCE

Blast off! Gravity building! Face contorting!

It felt like death,
as we broke out of the world and floated,
high above the planet.
I looked down, watching the world from up high,
as if disconnected, as if some other being,
as if I would never see this planet again.

Power on! Engines engaged!
5
4
3
2
1

The hyper drive rocketed us through …
… what?
Was it space? Not as we know it.
Was it existence? Am I here to tell?
They said it was a wormhole, the theorists,
but to me it was like a tunnel, pressing upon me,
dark as dark can be,
as if I was dead

And slowly, amazingly, omnipresently, the light.
Did it question why I was here?
Did it make me look back upon my life?
Did it decide if I could go on or not?
Or was it me?

Stillness! Brightness! Omniscience!

It was a sun, or it was a particle,
or maytbe a super-string;
or maybe it was nothing at all;
or maybe it was God Himself,
but I had had my far space experience,
and it beckoned me on, to existence anew,
safe in the knowledge that I’d exist forever,
but never, again, visit the ones I love,
lest they come this way, too

(c) Anthony North, May 2008