Life is a Crime Syndicate

Everyone has bad days and it is at these times that I generally flee to some close friends for reassurance and comfort. Occasionally, when times are really bad, reassurance comes in the form of the age old expression, “Just take one day at a time”. A piece of relatively useful advice. Relative in the sense that it assumes that you will only have to deal with one particular day at any one time.

I try to take one day at a time.

But sometimes, on rare occasions, several days attack me at once. Like a well organised crime syndicate. Albeit, a crime syndicate composed of members whose preference is to sneak up on their targets, generally around twelve noon on a Sunday when a person is normally relaxing, and unapologetically bludgeoning their unsuspecting victim into unconsciousness with a splintery, wooden plank.

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Life is simple. It’s living it that is extremely frustrating. So I am wondering … have you ever wanted to just magic life? Just a little? Just to make it somewhat easier?

Stuff needs to get done. You have no time. You find yourself in a stressful situation. You find you can not cope with all the stressors of life. It all seems too difficult.

You wave you hand dramatically and … all problems are magically solved!

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I Persist

This is a bit different poetry than one would expect to see in a published format, primarily because it is a soundscape. Soundscapes are pieces which are considered in terms of their component sounds and are usually associated with musical compositions.

The spoken word can also be conducive to a soundscape as the individual phonemes which make up words can be said in many different ways; vowels can be morphed, consonants stretched, syllables adapted to create a specific mood.

To help your reading and enjoyment I have included the poem in both grammatical English and soundscape forms. The best effect when reading the soundscape is by reading it out loud; words are spelt phonetically (how they should be said), bolded syllables represent emphasis, multiple letters indicate continuation of the sound, punctuation guides the speed of reading.

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Across the frozen wasteland of speckled space,

Which reaches into the infinity of tomorrow from the land of the now;

I fly alone,

Passing others’ lives.


Soaring through the icy mists of detritus from imploded failure,

As they collapse into harmonious structures beneath a guiding stars light;

I watch life appear,

Nurtured under harshness.

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