July 29th, 2020

speaker, coach, consultant

Poem of the day


— Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
you want to blow my book sales in
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do

This was published in Bukowski's book "The Last Night of the Earth Poems" circa 1992

speaker, coach, consultant

Life from life

“If you're reading this...
Congratulations, you're alive.
If that's not something to smile about,
then I don't know what is.”
Chad Sugg, Monsters Under Your Head

Life flows through us, daily.

But of course, as the recent passing of Brian has reminded me, one day it ends. 

We all know this, right?

There is, of course, the full spectrum of life and living:

For some, they eat it up — it's lived at a million miles an hour.
For others, it's an insipid decline — a slow suicide if you will.
And for the rest of us, I'm not sure — hit and miss. 

In my younger days, I was on a mission but if it was not already clear, my proverbial ladder was leaning against the wrong wall(s).

Dumb! Plain dumb.


I'm not going anywhere? Oh sure, like the rest of us, I'm caught up in the vicissitudes of life, but I don't judge it good, bad or indifferent. 

It just is. 

To many people that sounds plain soppy, not exciting enough and, well, a waste of a life.

I get it. 

And I'd be lying if, sometimes, I'm not seized by my old egoic self who wants to accept another torturous mission: I was raised to believe that only if something was hard, real hard, was I actually living. You know the drill: blood, sweat and lots of tears. From where I sit, that raison d'être is still alive and well and truly kicking — e.g. 'think positive', 'JFDI' and 'persistence is your bedfellow for all eternity'. 

I don't buy it. 

To live doesn't mean to be burnt up with desire, lack or a need to beat life into submission. 

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My tweets

speaker, coach, consultant

I'm exhausted

So, today, it really kicked off. 

I've had to advise on Contracts (I don't know the total value but it's a lot) covering England, German, France, Spain and, yes, Columbia.

I'm exhausted and my tiny brain needs quiet — deep, transcendent quiet.

That's the thing with CV19. It's all coming at once, having been on hold these past few months.

No complaints. I'm lucky to have a job.