Thus I Wrote

You're never alone, if you've something to share

Archive for the ‘Prose’ Category


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How did you justify
Stealing and killing
From those who own
But are unwilling?

You used religion
And science to say
They are below you
In made up ways

And now you use arrogance
And discrimination
To control equals or betters
Even in the same nation

Jokes are used
To hide behind

And statues are used
To glorify the pillage
They poison the nation
& weaken it with spillage

The spawn of public schools
Like Eton & Harrow
Brutal and shameless
Monsters of sorrow

But inherited wealth
Can’t be repeated
Change must come, cos
The future can’t be cheated

The past can hold back
Or help evolve to find
New ways that include
New ties that bind

Written by thus.i.wrote

June 12, 2021 at 11:04 am


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Like you I serve
My selfish needs
But our different values
Sow different seeds

Is climate change
Valued by you?
Or is it too long term
Too indirect for you?

Is a short term fix
More what you choose?
A zero sum game
You win…we lose

Different values
Could serve for good
But the future looks darker
Maybe more than it should

Now I’m grateful when
On the road I find
Those who are giving
Those who are kind

Written by thus.i.wrote

June 9, 2021 at 8:11 am

Posted in Poems, Prose

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I’d no safety net
No guiding light
A feeling of disconnection
The need to fight

Unprocessed feelings
Didn’t know how
Humour and anger
Am I better now?

I got up, I got out
Only way I could
One rung at a time
Fire and blood

Waited for change
A new tech wave
Everything I had
Everything I gave

No inheritance
No history
Move fast & bury
My anxiety & my worry

Never knew myself
Difficult to say
Lost relationships
Along the way

Life is the journey
Not the end
Now what’s next
Around the bend?

Written by thus.i.wrote

May 30, 2021 at 6:01 pm

I Vow to Live it Well

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I had a dream. I was on an escalator taking me into the future. I could not get off. Or go back.

My fate, my destiny was fixed. At the end was darkness. I was glad to wake up.

My challenge in the present is to distract myself from that paralysing vision. To live the best I can….for as long as I can.

I have my relationships, those I love. These are my priority.

I am “retired”. But I choose not to accept this as I feel that to be alive means I must add value. I must make things better. I must fix things. I must reinvent myself.

I’m creating a home. I’m learning a new language. I write and compose music. I travel.

But I yearn for more. I am restless for more.

I consider the problems of the age – Inequality, Housing for the next Generation, Climate Change, Innovation, Productivity, Communication, Politics and Democracy. Can I help create a new Politics? Can I help reduce Inequality? Can I help produce new Climate Change policies? Or are all these but distractions. In the end I am on the escalator. In the end I will add little value except perhaps to those I love.

I have dark days. I have good days. But what is life without struggle?

I remember a line in my song “We are Not Alone“…
“ I did not plan for this but now I vow to live it well”.

Written by thus.i.wrote

March 1, 2020 at 1:07 am

Posted in Prose

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A New Beginning of Sorts

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At 61 I chose to live on the top floor of a big house on the top of a hill with a view of Alexandra Palace and the Sky. There was no lift and three flights of stairs from the street to the top floor.

I could walk to my partner’s flat down the hill to the left and to Crouch End village down the hill to the right, both within 10 mins.

Following my illness I had gambled on my health being good for at least 10 years into the future. I had chosen to position myself ready for the next challenge. I had chosen to reinvent myself. The future was uncertain with only the ultimate end clear. My recent past was turbulent.

I chose a base that did not require too much work. However, while it had much that was new, there was still much to do. It took more time and effort than I had anticipated. It would take a while before I would feel safe. Before I would consider it home.

Written by thus.i.wrote

February 29, 2020 at 7:58 pm

Posted in Prose

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The King

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Unassailable in his tower
Of financial and political power
He will still die
Just like you and I
Slowly or quickly
He will become sickly
He has not the pace
To win this race

He rages and works
Against the future that lurks
Against the decay
Coming closer every day
He wants some meaning
Why is death intervening?
But he’s a small pawn
To a life that goes on
He held a baton a while
While he ran his mile

We are born and we die
Against our will, so we try
To exert some control
To create a role
In the end there’s no doubt
There’s no easy way out
Before we leave we check in
Every last thing
We fall into the unknown
As we were born….alone

Written by thus.i.wrote

July 5, 2013 at 5:52 am

Posted in Poems, Prose

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The Struggle


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

This poem was a favourite of Nelson Mandela who struggled and conquered much more than you or I but our struggles are personal and real to us and no less difficult in that regard.

I see that we struggle to be part of the great flywheel of existence but sometimes are spun off and struggle to get back on again.

But I see that struggle is part of the human condition and part of the essence of being alive. Such a particular struggle is the downside of freewill, democracy, growth and change.
And we would not willingly give those up so we must  accept the downsides also.

Our struggle is for a limited time.  We take the baton run for a short time and pass it on in the great race of life.

Our relatively short lives seem to make no sense except to contribute to the development of the human race in its growth in consciousness to some unknown end. The human race has some sense of a journey that is going somewhere.

On an individual level there appears to be not much good about growing old and dying (perhaps on a species level one can see the rationale of growth and renewal). Perhaps the awareness of limited time gives us humility, a feeling of shared experience and an added focus and impetus to do things.

At the end of our struggle is old age and death. Death is a scary thought and one we all face in private. Its so big that we often avoid it . In fact our society seems to make a thing of avoiding it.

There are many models that try to make sense of our existence and what drives us, none of them that are satisfactory to me as in the end there are more questions for me  than answers.

I am reminded of the wonderful film – Blade Runner.
Tyrell (who made Batty) says to Batty(A humanoid robot, who has a very limited time to live):

“Revel in your time”.

It seems apt.

While we are here I feel we must strive to be the best we can be and to do the best we can do.

Written by thus.i.wrote

November 7, 2012 at 12:23 pm

Posted in Poems, Poetry, Prose

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