Submerged - #LikeMinds 2011 Series

Today some of the most creative and forward thinking people in the UK will descend on sunny Exeter in preparation for tomorrow's annual gathering of the #LikeMinds conference.

Ahead of my talk on Friday morning I thought I would give you a little preview and invite some feedback on a poem I have written for the occasion, which (depending on your feedback) I am thinking of using as my opener.

In a year that has truly seen social media, the recommendation economy and technology make the headlines this is a little reflection on how I still feel we need to strive to truly be US in the digital space. As my friend Bex always says - what we do online is not some 'virtual' world - we are people on a offline. It's all about perspective isn't it.

Hope you like it - comments welcomed (be gently brutal - Ta).

Submerged

Is news now only what's trending not what rules bankers are bending or what MPs are spending or heartbreaks simple words are mending or crying in the night from voices with no way of fending for themselves

is my truth just what I create or seek to orchestrate like a mad conductor on the run away train of the latest perplexing meme. Or delinquent dream of a different way of thinking - is the extent of my imagination brink-ing? or is it only beginning , seeking to break the 140 character horizon. If so then why do we find ourselves sinking?

drowning in noise whilst searching for a signal drenched in wi-fi & 3G waves hoping to find a single route to what I crave. hoping to link deeper but avoiding any depth. Maybe I need to watch my steps.

Is my over connectedness disconnecting these words from my heart have i been so busy busying that I really failed to start searching for all the answers in all the right places

are my-space's really just books of faces twittering in the silence where no one truly finds. Maybe all I really want is to discover some uniquely - Like Minds.

An ode to the Boris bike (Poem)

The dazzling lights of boris' bikesThat twinkle and sparkle under canopies Of silver and golden light Encased in glass atop of spires Remind me that autumn is here.

As cranes flight by With wings held aloft Down serpentines lowly spine The graceful birds break the stillness As I feel it in my thighs.

We see tonight that summer is gone The gravel speaking of hibernation And the toppling conquerers Drip from the boughs In the expanse of Jekyll's nemesis.

Fat Coke and a Wispa

Here's one I jotted down in a 5 minute break this afternoon. It's funny how easily we are distracted isn't it? That's kind of what this is about. If you sit in front of desk for anything over an hour a day then I think you will be able to sympathise with the sentiment expressed below.

Fat Coke and a Wispa

A blurry post lunch surf Filled with new tabs, But never a refreshing browser A multi-touch ride of swiping and typing Through the hazy noontime web Waiting for the afternoon to be over Or at least punctuated By a fat Coke and a Wispa Reshuffling playlists of wistful melodies That just remind us it's not yet over Log out, shutdown. Reboot. Start over.

Over to you...

How do you combat boredom, procrastination or a stagnant day?

the slushpile

Here is a little ditty I wrote this morning attempting to get the attention of a little poetry publishing house. If you are that publishing house and are now reading this - then haha... It worked.

the slushpile

some would question
whether this is wise
to somewhat ruin the surprise
of what is to come
when you look round the corner
and see the lyrics buried
in my tiny eyes.
but reach out I must
to cast my wears
upon the slush pile
with the rest...
...why is there no rest
for those who would rather toil
than smile.
so here is my work
the chicken scratching
of my finger tips
that may be worth
a penny to the masses
and if it turns out not
they can come after me
with their fiery whips.