The Future Is Bright

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The realities of a ‘post-truth’ world
Are hard to distinguish from those
Of the pre-truth world
Worlds where we are bombarded by images
Of things we neither want nor need
Although
On reflection
Maybe we might need them
And we do quite want them
In fact, we can’t live without them

But iThink iKnow what iNeed
Though Apples are not the only fruit
Just look in the Amazon
For a Galaxy of alternatives
An Xperiance like no other
Knock here to use the Windows
If you want to escape the Androids

What do you think Alexa?
Or should we ask Siri?
Maybe Cortana?
But no-one asks Cortana.
Any more than anyone ever asked Jeeves

WikiLeaks will show us the way
To the whole truth
Or at least to aspects of the truth
Or an interpretation of the truth
The truth that will sell the most papers Continue reading The Future Is Bright

Poetry In (Loco)Motion

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I wrote this on a train
It was poetry in motion
The train was running late
Which filled me with emotion

The emotion, though, was joy
For I was late as well
My tardiness well-timed
I didn’t have to dwell

Better still, I got a seat
An unexpected perk
As I headed to my course
And an afternoon off work

I didn’t hold much hope
That my course would not be dull
But at least the journey there
Was semi-reasonable

So I took out my pen
And wrote this little ditty
While heading at high-speed
On a train into the city

Con-For-Us

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The conference is a noble thing
A day when experts confer knowledge
In allocated slots
To us know-nothing mortals
Who have had the nerve
Up to this point
To work without their wisdom

Although in truth
There is little conferring of knowledge
Or new knowledge at least
Just a purgatory of PowerPoints
Regurgitating redundant recommendations
Everyone has heard before

But in amongst the allocutions
Of stuff we all already know
Sometimes we can dare to dream
For a keynote speaker
With enough charisma
To make the blindingly obvious
Seem like it wasn’t really so obvious

And if the conference
Is a sham
A lie
An illusion of innovative information
If it is indeed a con
It’s a convivial con

It’s a con-for-us

For while orating the obvious
Might be the order of the day
It is still a day
Away
From our average day

And if we’re lucky
A free lunch
Continuous coffee
And maybe some sweets on our table
Will help us pass the time

Every Silver Lining Has a Cloud

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It was almost daylight
As I drove to work this morning
Almost a reason to be cheerful
And almost optimistic
About the fact that winter
Is almost over
In a few weeks I’ll be waking up to sunshine
To longer days
To vitamin D
But my inner pessimist
Couldn’t help but point out
That I’ll no longer be able
To blame my bad moods
On Seasonal Affective Disorder
And I may have to acknowledge
That I am, in fact, at times
Just a bit grumpy

Pedantic Romantic

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Roses are red
Violets are blue
Except (of course)
That isn’t true

Because a rose by any other name
Might smell as sweet
But a rose by any other colour
Would still be a rose
And a rose can be many colours
Though the colour known as ‘rose’
Is a kind of pink

And violets are really not blue
The clue is in the name
Because a violet by any other name
Would still be the colour violet
Which is really more purple
Than blue

Podiatric Problems

cold-feet
I’ve got cold feet
Less because
I want to withdraw
From an undertaking
To which
I have
Perhaps ill-advisedly
Committed
And more I think
Because it’s January
And I’m wearing neither
Socks nor slippers

Still, I sometimes wish
That the UK government
Had experienced slightly cooler feet
Than they clearly did
When committing to
An ill-conceived referendum
Several months ago

Oh Dirty Mug

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Oh dirty mug
Tea-stained and forlorn
How long have you sat there
Unwashed
Perchance unloved?

And though my need is great
For a beverage warm
And comforting
To refresh my soul
I shall once again
Eschew you
Ignore you
In favour of your
Cleaner brethren
In their ivory tower
(Or off-white kitchen cupboard)

Though take comfort
Dirty mug
In the knowledge
That once used
A clean coffee cup
Itself becomes
A dirty demitasse
A grubby goblet
A vitiated vessel

So soon
You will languish alone
No more

Work-life Unbalance

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I think that I might have a problem
It’s not something I can ignore
It’s taking over my life
It’s starting to become a bore

I seem to be spending too much time
Earning my monthly pay
I do quite like to have money
But there must be an easier way

I think it would be so much better
If I could just not go to work
And still be paid the same wages
That would indeed be a perk

I don’t want to seem like I’m lazy
Nor have my intentions misread,
But some days it would be quite nice
To not have to get out of bed

And really I would find it easy
To fill up the time I’d have free
I have bookcases of unread novels
Many films I’d still like to see

So perhaps we could try a new system
Cos right now I’m feeling harassed
And I just think I’d be a lot happier
If working hard was a thing of the past