The idea that life unfolds to a pattern laid down by gods or fate or whatever has never appealed to me. Whenever people – worse still, peoples – believed they had a pre-ordained destiny, it was bad news for indigenous races and minority groups. Modern science has replaced the model of a clockwork machine universe with something much more fluid and dynamic and, yes, exciting. My poem explores this idea of a creative potential that is the polar opposite of passive acceptance. Only as free individuals can we become one people.
Thinking Out Loud The particle collider in our head Holds fragments of the past that whirl around In circles, frozen orbits of the dead Through inner space. They never make a sound. When silence grows too loud we open wide Perception's doors and welcome in the new, Observing past and present worlds collide In teasing spiral glimpses - all too few - Of what's to come. They crash and burn, Though not before the camera of our mind Snaps every possibility in turn As if the future's there to be divined. But how could everything be stuck that way? We generate the world afresh each day.
a nomad in cyberspace 