It’s been a while. Off doing other things, pausing a while, all sorts of vague, platitudinous excuse-y stuff.  Time to ramp it up a little.

The following was scribbled in a poetry workshop that happened in 2003. The event was sanctioned by my then agency, DDB London, and run by the wonderful Paul Feldwick. We spent three days in Buxted Park, a hotel combining extraordinary beauty with Fawlty Towers chaos. I loved it.

We were encouraged to think about the idea of freedom to fail. Ahh, I thought…

UPS AND DOWNS

I’d rather fall
When aiming high
Than die
Not having tried at all.
I’d rather, falling,
Know beneath
Await no shredding, vicious teeth.
I’d rather fall
However fast
And know my vertigo
Outcast.
Not that falling should be bliss
But if you never fall
Get this:

Ups without downs
Aren’t ups at all
They make the landscape
Empty.
Small.