Simon the poet

feelings from a traveller along life's pathways

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Location: Watford, United Kingdom

I've travelled; I've lived here and there; always searching for something. And yet perhaps the one discovery of recent years has been the realisation that I have a strong clear voice inside. I listen so much to so many voices, some my own - despairing, angry, frustrated, scared. And I want to achieve so much! But what I'd really like is to reach out to you, call you to listen to your voice. And then who knows what might happen in this crazy world of ours. And I'd like to live on in your thoughts. Share what we have and who we are; what else can we do? We all have such strength and beauty and love - we just have to find the courage to show it - and to share it. Because that's where hope comes from. That's how I can face the future.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

taking a wider view

Recently a former colleague and fellow member of an informal alumni group published to the group a list of blogs by members. My initial reaction was not to add to the list. Why? Because somehow it was OK to share my thoughts and poetry with strangers and friends, but not with former colleagues. Until I thought of the work of a poet I like and admire - David Whyte. He targets the corporate world with poetry in a way I'd like to emulate. So, why not? Today I answered that. A few minutes ago I emailed my contact with the address of this blog. The view widens; another step.

Simon

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

what

What starts it
A look
A word

What excites it
A feeling
A breath

What sustains it
A touch
A sound

What deflates it
A chill
A doubt

What revives it
A hope
A smile

passion

when

When I fall in love
It’s easy and quick
Painless
Takes no effort at all

Until I find I have to leave
Then I can but grow out
Falling out of love won’t do
Doesn’t happen
It may take a year
Or more
But one day it’s gone

It’s like falling into a hole
And then having to climb out slowly
The long way round
And when I get back
It isn’t the same place
Looks familiar
But it’s not the same

Each time is different
And so much the same
Love to love
Hate to lose
And have to start over
Again and again